I am an only child. Growing up, I didn’t think much about it; I didn’t exactly relish the position, but I never remember asking Santa to bring me a little brother or sister for Christmas.
As an adult, though, what I wouldn’t give to have a sibling…to share stories from childhood…to carry on family traditions…to be there to support each other in good times and bad...to have someone who has known you your entire life. I look around at my friends who steal away for weekends with their sisters, and have their brothers over for cook-outs, and I have to admit I’m a little envious.
And so as an adult, I always hoped I would be able to have at least two children. I never dreamed that I would win the lottery and have not just two children, but TWINS!
I sometimes joke that I feel woefully unqualified to raise twins. I don’t have any experience with sibling rivalry, and I never really had to share anything! I had my parents, and my room, and my birthday all to myself.
But when I see my girls together, I am filled with so much joy. Whether you call it God’s plan, or fate, or just dumb luck, I’m so thankful that they have the gift of each other.