Three little monkeys

These three boys have been so amazing during our entire experience with the twins and Brigid.
Like, really amazing. We have had such a big upheaval in our family from my eight weeks of bed rest, two hospitalizations, and several weeks in the NICU, and they have done such a great job adjusting to each situation.

Sometimes, people ask me if they know what is going on. They know everything except for the fact that Fiona remained in my stomach after she died, came out when Brigid was born, and was buried. I figured I'd spare them the thought of that. But they know everything else.

In fact, in church the other day, a lady who had seen me pregnant a few months ago and then didn't see me for a while asked, "Where's the baby?" Jack and PJ did not skip a beat telling her the whole saga, taking turns talking with each phrase: "Well, we had two babies, but then Fiona died, and then Brigid came out, but it was too early, and now she lives in the hospital, but she's our baby sister!"

I was in tears by the end of the story, both at the flat-footedness of their response and at the innocence of it. I still don't feel like this is really happening somehow. I don't really feel pain about it, but sometimes, when I think about all that's happened to me in the past three months, I can't believe how overwhelming it is. I cry a little for myself, as if it were someone else I was feeling sad for.

But then I get to spend time with these guys.

Jack is learning so much. He's like a sponge. I love to hear how his mind works...and he's always saying what's on his mind, so it's easy to hear.

There are often ants out on our deck and the other day, he saw them and said, "Oh hi, guys."

Then, to me, "They're my ant friends. They know me." Like, "It's okay, Mommy. Don't worry, I have it under control."

Oh, okay Jack.

Here he is holding his old buddy, Hercules.

Then, there's my Peej. He is my little buddy. His smile melts my heart. He's a little bit of a mama's boy, but not so much in the way that I can't leave the house or take a shower or use the bathroom without him crying (anymore). It's more that he just likes to be where I am. And I like that.

We call Thomas our Baby Monster, because at just 16 months, he is 30 pounds and 35 inches tall. He loves books. He is a joker. He is learning to say so many things. He says "thank you" every single time you give him something. He is incredibly easy-going. At the start of my bed rest, before we'd hired someone to come and help us with the boys every day, we had several volunteers coming in to help us - a new person each morning and afternoon. I counted that in one week, nine different ladies went to Thomas's room to get him up from his naps. Some babies might balk at a stranger coming in to get them out of bed (to say nothing of nine strangers), but not Thomas. He didn't bat an eye, and was likely excited to see each of them. He is so sweet.

These boys are medicine. They are like a salve for my wounds. They make me smile when I'm sad, make me laugh when my heart is heavy, perk me up when I feel like I can't put one foot in front of the other for one more day. I am so grateful for my three little monkeys and can't wait to see what wonderful big brothers they are going to be to little Brigid.