June 21st (Father's Day)

Tomorrow is June 21st -- a date that means so much to us. In fact, I'm posting this a day early just in case I'm overcome with emotions tomorrow. So forgive me for acknowledging you prematurely.

After all, June 21st was the twins' due date. And it was also the exact day we conceived Paxton. I realize that may seem like TMI for outside readers, but when you're doing injections, you pretty much know when you ovulate down to the hour. The fact that we conceived on their exact due date was pretty much a one in a million situation.

And it just so happens that such an important date is marked as Father's Day this year. Not sure it could feel more appropriate.. A date that means something in relation to all of our babies.

This is not your first Father's Day, but it is the first one where you get to hold your son, play peek-a-boo, and "talk" with him all day. It's the first one where you get to really feel like a father with a son to raise. And I am so happy for you.

Still, the importance of being a "father" can't be summed up or adequately celebrated in one day. A relationship as strong as father and son will be ever-changing -- evolving as you go.

I hope, on this special day, you have the time to ponder the years that lie ahead. As hard as I try, and as much as I'll teach him, there are some things a son will take from his father... Things I could never show him. All the lessons you'll teach -- on purpose, and by accident. These are the things that come to my mind this year, if I may make a few requests.

He may listen to your advice, but he'll follow your example. Show him how to be a man. Strong and gentle. Show him how to treat his mother. How to fall in love -- and ideally how to stay there.

Be his friend. Talk about life, sports, and girls. But be his father first. He will look towards you for rules and boundaries. Let him make a mess, but then make him clean it up. Encourage him to take risks, but reassure him you'll catch him if he falls.

Let him see you fail. He will think you're infallible for awhile. It's okay. You're supposed to be his hero. But his role-model will also show him how to stumble, and then recover. Teach him that flaws don't make you weak or define you. Giving up does.

And there are some things I just can't do. My knowledge of football is limited. My knowledge of farming is non-existent. And peeing standing up? Writing his name in the snow? That's all you, dear.

And when you're playing catch or touch football in the yard, and I yell at you both for tearing up the grass or garden... remind me that we're raising a son... not a lawn. I'll get it. <3

I can teach him to say "Dada" -- but only you can show him what it really means...

From Jasper, Bodhi, Paxton (and Bristow and Nori too) -- Happy Father's Day!

Father's Day

Just as Mother's Day has come and gone, Father's Day has become an equally raw and uncertain day. My husband and I have to wade through the murky waters of these holidays, with no idea how to be, and definitely not feeling as if we can truly celebrate anything.

We have just begun meeting with the fertility doctor again, hoping that my body and my hormones will be ready for another go around in a month or two. As anticipated, a baseline ultrasound was required, to make sure all my innards are still where they are supposed to be and functional. The problem was that it was done in the exact same room in which we first learned we were having twins, and where we first heard their heartbeats. As I laid there staring at the ceiling, tears were silently falling from my eyes. The tech was completely unaware, since they thankfully keep the room fairly dark.

But afterwards, as I made my way down the hall to sit in another office to wait on the nurse to go over results/costs/etc, I felt like I couldn't breathe. Being back in this place where it all began, knowing that their due date was only two weeks away, and that Father's Day was looming.. was just too much for me to hold in.

So I sat in this brightly lit office trying to pull myself together, taking a deep breath as the nurse popped in. But as soon as she asked innocently, "How are you doing?," I lost all composure.. blurting out "Not good at all," as tears burst from my eyes like a leaky dam. This breakdown went on for several minutes, with me apologizing and the nurse attempting to assure me it was okay. "You've been strong for too long. Eventually you have to let it out," she said.

She was right, but it didn't make me feel any less embarrassed or weak at that moment.

As we left that day, I started to question why I fell apart to such a degree. Sure, the location was a huge trigger. But something was clearly still lingering. A constant burdening ache just waiting to bubble over.

And sure enough, it still comes back to the guilt. The feeling that the whole situation, from beginning to end, was my fault. I was still overwhelmed with the feeling that I'm the reason my husband doesn't get to celebrate Father's Day in the way he should.

If all had gone according to plan, my husband would have two newborns at home today. And it breaks my heart, because he so deserves that experience.

For his part, though.. he has been amazing as a husband -- and a father. From sharing in the excitement of every appointment to the moment that he held them, he was is a dad in every sense of the word.

Ever since he gently supported our son and daughter in his hands, I have seen him in a new light. There is something markedly different about someone being my husband and someone being the father of my children. I didn't know at the time that we could be any closer or grateful for each other, but this year has been one of great loss.. and subsequent growth.

So to my husband, thank you for the support and comfort. Thank you for our beautiful babies. And thank you for loving them and caring for them in every way that you could. The man you were in those moments will be the man I forever see and love.

Happy Father's Day.