Your Hands Are Full

It happens every time we are out. People are inevitably drawn to a twin stroller. They lean in and ooooo and ahhhh. "Are they twins?" They are. "A boy and a girl?" Yes. Their eyes then fall on the 3 year old hovering protectively nearby. "Oh my goodness! Your hands are full!"

We nod our agreement, smile, and make our way on. Because yes, our hands are so very full. And we can't explain just how full. They don't know that we hook our son up to a tube to feed him six times a day. That we watch the contents of his stomach bubble up into a syringe after we've fed him in order to remove gas from his stomach. That we watch obsessively for signs of abnormal behavior because a baby can't verbalize that his shunt is failing. That we are at therapy appointments three of the five business days of the week in order to help our son learn to swallow without aspirating, learn to hold his heavy head up on his own, learn to use his motor skills. 

They also don't know what it feels like to watch your three year old touch his brother's head and coo how cute he is and that he loves him. To see that unconditional love displayed. To watch that three year old take hospital visits and therapy appointments in stride and accept it as part of being this little boy's big brother. To lay the twins down next to each other and watch them gravitate towards each other. To link arms as they lay on a blanket next to each other. To watch each of them hit their milestones, your son meeting some of them before his non-special needs sister and to swell with pride at the fight you see in him. 

Yes. Our hands are full. And aren't we so lucky they are?