Inside Jack's head, I imagine the dialogue went something like this, "Two. Two. Not one, two. Only two, is she sure? How well did she look? Maybe it was only one but she saw it twice, she didn't seem too bright. Two. Maybe two boys, or a boy and a girl, no, I know, two girls, of course, why wouldn't I have two girls? Two weddings. Right, two college tuitions, and of course, grad school. I should have known, her cousins are twins, serves me right. Two. Quite strong? Two, really? How about that? We can do this. Two!"
Of course he actually said very little, staring at a point somewhere in space for an extended period of time.
My inner voice said "Two. Two. Two. Two! Really, two! One of each, or maybe two boys, or maybe two girls! Two? Of course there are two, we should have known, maybe I did know, yes, I could tell, I knew, Moms know. Two! Oh, two, are they alright? Will there be enough room? Of course there will be. Two to lose. Stop, they are fine, she said strong right, that's what she said? What did I eat for breakfast? Where is my husband? Is he here? Did he hear her? There he is. Why does he look like that? I'm terrified. I'm excited. I can't do this. Of course I can. We can do this. Two!".
Oddly neither of us, in that moment, considered that two meant that both would head off to kindergarten on the same day five years later, and eighteen years beyond they would move on to college at the same time. Somehow in that instant we both missed this key point, and while I wouldn't change one thing, I do, for the first time, envy my friends who started with one and moved on to two. When they wave good bye in a few weeks there will still be one holding tightly to their hand. Three weeks from today my hands will be empty, both raised and waving madly at two backpacked adorned figures waddling away from me.
Two, what a blessing, I wouldn't change one thing.
