I'm Banded

Right now I am sporting two very fashionable bracelets--two paper bands around my right wrist, the kind that someone straps on you which must be cut off when you want to be free.

They are the kind you get in the hospital if you're the person (besides the mom of the newborns) who has access to the babies and can be with them alone while Mom showers or whatever.

I am the banded aunt-in-law to a young woman who just gave birth to preemie twins, boy and girl. Mom and babies are coming to live in our home when they leave the hospital; therefore, I am like next of kin, in a local, female, married-into-the-family, live-with-you way.

I am banded. This is monumental to me.

First of all, I'm scared. I'm scared about the whole thing, about a little family coming to live with us and all that that implies.

Secondly, I'm nervous. Nervous about losing sleep because 2 tiny newborns MUST be put on a strict schedule, and Mom is going to need help at 3:00am. I believe when one accepts the bands, she is expected to step up. Gulp.

Thirdly, I'm having mild anxiety attacks during the night and first thing in the morning when I wake up because--what if I fail--in any sense of the word--fail to help the mom, fail to do something essential for the babies, fail to remain loving, calm, cool, collected, fail to be wise, fail to represent how a person of faith behaves when she is stressed. So much at stake.

And then, I pick up one of the twins. And all of the periphery concerns, current events and hand-wringing seem to fade into a blurry background.



Can you tell that as I write this there is a knot forming in my throat choking back my tears and that my heart is speeding up? Because this is how I feel when I look at this pic even after having been with them all day yesterday and today.

I do not know how this will work out. It could be a colossal disaster. But it is happening out of love for the mom and her babies. May God step in and fix the things I screw up. (Please, God--just show up! HELP!)

So I am banded and bonded already, and they are just now 24 hours old.

Scared but hopeful.

Lost but trusting.

Anxious but committed.

Mostly, though, I just feel banded, not only at the wrist but in my heart as well. Not only to babies, but to Mom.

2 Chronicles 20:12 "Oh, Lord, we do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you!"

So, Welcome to the world, little ones. This is your crazy old Great Aunt Linda writing about you on her blog, which will someday seem as antiquated to you as the telegraph does to me. Just want to say, "You are loved." And thank you for the blog fodder I know you are going supply me with, beginning with the outrageous amount of poo you supplied us with today.

Brother on the left, sister on the right.