When I was a little girl, I had dreams of one day being called “Mom” by adorable twin sisters named Denim and Lace.
Those days have long since passed. When we went in for our first ultrasound and saw just ONE little bean on the screen, I can’t tell you the relief I felt.
Just a few weeks previous, before we even knew we were having a baby, I was invited to my aunt and uncle’s house for a family lunch and got to spend some time with my Mom’s side of the family. The topic of babies came up, specifically related to somebody we know having twins recently.
Under my breath, I mutter, “Ugh, twins. My worst nightmare. I’m so glad twins don’t run in our family.”
Grandma felt the need to chime in with words of doom.
“What are you talking about? There are a lot of twins on the Prewitt side.”
My mom’s family proceeds to regale me of tales of twins upon twins, twins both giving birth to twins, my brain spinning at the mathematics of it all.
So secretly, when I found out I was having a baby, I was repeating the mantra for several weeks before our ultrasound “There’s only one in there, there’s only one in there…”
Here’s the deal. Twins seem awesome. If I were pregnant with twins, I would embrace it, “ONE AND DONE!” Unless they were twin girls. We’ve covered that already. Two girls = attempt for a third Baby Dub.
But I want to be able to focus my maternal energies on as few beings as possible. Add another baby to the mix and I start to think of scenarios in which one twin eats the other in utero, or the identical twins I know who married other identical twins and how weird I thought that was. I just want to be able to focus my attention on one thing at a time, right now specifically on the question “Boy or girl?”
Which we find out in less than 2 weeks, by the way!
So while I am happy and delighted and intrigued by others I know who have twins (especially boy-girl perfect sets, I would have been jazzed if we were having those!), I am glad I’m not having twins.
They do run in the family.