Snippets of Silence

It’s been awhile.

I haven’t forgotten. Ive thought about blogging almost every single day. Of writing down my thoughts or the important things I’ve done. The milestones my three year old has reached. The fact that I’ve had twins.

TWINS.

My jaw is permanently on the floor over that one.

The reality is my pregnancy was the worst. Well, maybe not the worst. It really could have been a whole lot more awful, but to me, in the never-ending pregnancy moments, it was the worst. And when you’re hugging your toilet bowl 24/7 for 5 whole months, the last thing you feel like doing is writing about it. Or, get dressed up and do a photo shoot for that matter. Heck, Im pretty sure I wore the same puked on pajamas for days on end for awhile there. The first 20 weeks I could not get off the couch because of how ridiculously sick I was. Like, all day, every single minute feel like you’re going to vomit and die all rolled into one lovely little package. And then following that first 20 weeks, I was so huge, I could hardly walk without feeling like my pelvis was going to split open. I slept on the couch for three months because my own bed made me cry in pain. At least the couch and the twelve extra pillows (that’s right, TWELVE) gave my poor body some semblance of comfort….until I had to roll over. Anytime I had to get up throughout the night, which was a lot when you have two bouncy boys doing gymnastics on your bladder, I literally had to roll off the couch. Like, hit the floor with my knees because I couldn’t sit up.

All these women I would talk to during this time would keep saying, “It will all be worth it!” ” You’d do it all over again once you see those sweet boys’ faces!” I wanted to punch those women in the teeth. And I still do. Because, I did see those sweet boys’ faces. And while I wouldn’t take it back for anything in the world, I DEFINITELY would NOT do it all over again! Having multiples is no joke.

I don’t write this for pity. Or even because I feel like you need to know, but I write it because over the last 10 months of not blogging, something has really been nagging at me.

Realness.

Realness in a world where everything we see has been altered.

I walked by a “store” in the mall last week that was just a bunch of tiny rooms you could go into to experience “virtual reality.” What?! Why?! Why would I spend my hard earned money to go into a tiny room with some goggles and pretend Im somewhere else?

This is the world we live in.

A world where we’re glued to our phones, scrolling through our friends lives. Except, they’re not our friends lives. They’re snippets of their day, portions of the best things they experienced, the “after” photos to the “befores” that they never posted. While they allow us to follow along in the lives of those we are close to or to those we’ve never met, they also distort their realities. While I’m all for following along and participating in the daily Instagram feed, I’m also realizing that what actually connects with me, isn’t the filter over an already gorgeous rainbow, but the vulnerability of those who have chosen to step outside of this facade and make me feel like someone understands me at my level.

It’s the openness of a woman going through depression and her desperate attempt to find wholeness. It’s a friend’s honesty in their struggle to success. It’s the spoken questions about life and faith and adulthood and pain and sorrow and happiness and contentment that make me feel like I just might be normal. That I’m not somehow falling behind and failing because my life doesn’t add up to all the amazingly wonderful things my friends and acquaintances seem to be achieving on a daily, hourly, and momentary basis.

And so I share with you the reality behind my silence, lest you had taken that silence as simply an unshared blip between wonderful moments in my life.

I was sick. I hated being pregnant. In a world where women are supposed to love their pregnancies and have this youthful glow and constant smile on their face, I was pale and deathly, impatiently waiting and secretly hoping (though also praying against) that these babies would come sooner than expected. What a horrible thing to feel… and an even more terrible thing to admit… that the very thing I had hoped for and earnestly prayed for; to be pregnant, was the very thing I was wishing every day to be over.

The thing is, I know, that as terrible as I feel to admit that, Im not the only one. So ladies, if you’re having an incredible pregnancy, congratulations. I’m truly happy (though perhaps, a little bitter) for you. But if you’re not feeling this whole pregnancy thing, that’s okay. You’re not a horrible person. It does not mean that you love your babies any less. My boys are my entire world but that still doesn’t mean that I had to enjoy the ride of getting here in order to truly appreciate them as the perfect little humans they are.

I admit this to you today because I want to be real.

I vow to be authentic in a world of counterfeit.

I want you to know that you’re not alone.

You’re normal.

You’re beautiful.

You’re a real life filled with wonderful moments and bubbly feelings that are often flecked with feelings of failure.

Just like me.

Photographer: Katy Winterflood

Make Up:  Nancy Dutiaume of The Artist Groupe

Hair: Charlene of The Artist Groupe