I knew this day would come

I knew this day would come. 

Last year, quite like this year, it was around Valentine's Day that we got through a week or two of influenza and sickness in our house.  Then we were hoping that, at some point, the Lord would answer in the affirmative our request for a new family member. 

We were overjoyed to learn around this time last year that He had! 

Even as I struggled through the exhaustion and nausea, I knew that in about a year, there would be a day, a glorious day, that would be warmer than expected.  It would be a break from the frigid temperatures and sickness and cabin fever, and we would break out beyond our four walls and relish the sunshine. 

I remember searching for a bargain - the diamond in the rough, the choice carriage, the perfect pram - that would carry my new babies to the park.  Because there wasn't to be one addition, but the Lord had ordained two additions to our family!  Twins!  Again, we were overjoyed!

I ordered the double stroller - my second double stroller, but we use them so much, and with twins even more so - a gift from a loved one as excited and overjoyed as us. 

As I hit "Buy Now," I knew this day would come.

The double stroller arrived, and we all looked at the pictures on the outside of the gigantic box.  It was exactly what I'd hoped.  And it was heavy.  Too heavy for me in my exhausted, expecting state to lug it to the basement until that glorious day when it would be needed.  Chase hauled it down the stairs and stowed it away.

It was shortly afterward that we found out that we wouldn't, in fact, need the double stroller for our twins.  At least not for that gloriously warm winter day I'd been anticipating. 

A strong, steady heartbeat next to the the gaping silence of dreams shattered.  We had lost our Thomas.

Memorial Day weekend last year our basement flooded.  This, immediately after we'd found out about little Thomas.  He wasn't even named yet.  And I splashed through the giant puddle in the basement to shove and lift the stroller, still packed safely in it's box of dreams, to dry safety.

And I knew this day would come.

I have walked by it, moved it from one spot to another, considered returning it, considered selling it, considered giving it away.  But when it really comes down to it...  I want it. 

I want this stroller.  I researched and looked and considered and spent pregnancy-induced insomnia hours weighing the benefits of this stroller over others.  I wanted this color - my favorite, and more rare so as not to get it confused with others at the park who already have the same one.  It pushes easily - I know because I've tried out a friend's.  It folds compactly.  It has decent storage, and all of the other features and functions I knew I would need... for twins.

November 2nd brought the birthday of our twins - Juilana first, then Thomas.  We brought her home first, then him.  Tucked her into her bassinet first; then tucked him into his resting place at home, with lilacs to blanket him each spring.

And I knew this day would come.

We made it through the fall, the holidays, the winter, until February 1st without a sniffle or a cough of any concern.  Then the fevers started.  It was 14 days of fevers, chills, aches, sore throats, coughs, runny noses, and general sickness spreading from one to another until 5 out 7 family members had succumbed.  Finally, on day 15, the last victim awoke free of the fever.

The sun was out.  The wind was still.  The day practically begged that we break free of our prison and leave our sick beds behind.  So preparations began.  Socks, shoes, jackets (for that's all that was needed), and a stroller.

I lugged it up from the basement and set the box in the kitchen. 

The day had come.

The kids helped me open the box, dump out the contents, assemble the wheels, brake, and accessories.  They joyfully climbed in, buckled and unbuckled the straps, and then asked, "Is this for Julie and Nolan?" 

"Yes," I answered, "If Nolan wants to ride in it, he can, but I bet he'll want to ride his trike." 

After a pause, I went on, "When we got it, I thought we would need it for Julie and Thomas, but since we lost Thomas he won't get to ride in it, I guess." 

The kids continued their inspection of each feature and part, nodding in agreement with me.  But their minds had moved on while mine lingered. 

If Thomas were here along with the others, would I have the energy to take them all to the park, even with their dad's help (he came along too today)?  If Thomas were here, would we have made it till February 1st without sickness?  If Thomas were here, how would I have managed the last 2 weeks where someone(s) (including me for 2 days) was sick and sleep was so rare?  What would that have been like with twins to nurse?  Could I have nursed twins this long?  ...

But the "what if___" tunnel is not one to travel down very far.  So I stopped myself and wheeled the stroller out the door. 

Children atop bikes waited patiently at the end of the drive as Chase and I loaded up the new stroller with all manner of superfluous necessities.  The diaper bag sat in the seat next to Julie.  What I wouldn't give to have had a baby, my baby, Julie's twin, sitting there next to her. 

But I knew this day would come.

As my heart both ached for our loss and celebrated the life we get to enjoy, I turned my face to the sun, and we set off for the park. 

Today is not what I hoped it would be.  Today is not what I wanted it to be.  Today is not what I dreamed it would be.  But today has come and gone.  And while I still don't understand, today was good.