I have been on bedrest since December 8. I've had lots of contractions of sorts since around week 15, and as time has gone by, they increase both in frequency and intensity. I've had the official diagnosis of preterm labor for at least a month now, as they found that the contractions are doing the work they're supposed to (just not so soon!). I spent 5 days in the hospital at the end of January. For now I'm very happily and gratefully waiting out the rest of my pregnancy at home in bed. Home, in the company of the people I love most and in the comfort of my own space. I've almost made it to 32 weeks. The babies could come at any time. I could be sent back to the hospital at any time. It's all a lot of waiting. . . and things change from week to week. Carrying twins has become a physical challenge, and being bedridden for week after week an emotional one.

I've had my share of "why me" days, especially earlier when it would have been much more dangerous for them to be born. Why should I have a complicated pregnancy now, when the other 3 were largely uneventful? Why am I having problems, when most other twin moms I know (including my sister) carried their twins without much ado, and delivered them safely at or near term? Why am I stuck down when I have 3 other children who need me, and I want to be a mommy to them?

But as time goes by and I connect with other mothers who are or have been on bedrest, my "why me's" have changed.  Why have I been so blessed with the feeling that something wasn't right- and the mind to push the doctor until he found out what? Why have these numerous blessings been handed to me throughout this pregnancy that have prevented some possible scary outcomes? Why do I deserve this big, wonderful family and ward family who have cared for me and my family all this time, and continue to ask what they can do- and do it? Why am I blessed with 3 little daughters who are wise and strong, compassionate and understanding, and coping better than I do most days? Why do I deserve this incredible husband who carries my load and his, and still always greets me with a smile and a kiss? Why have we been graced with his new job that will allow us to stay in Boise where our family and dear friends are? Why are my babies big for their gestational age, when I don't grow big babies? Why have I and my babies been so watched over and protected, why have I made it so far with them still in the womb where they belong, when so many suffer tragedy and loss- or birth much too early, and endure the lifelong effects of that. Why me?

I don't think there is even an answer. I am no more deserving of my Heavenly Father's love and care than anyone else, that's for sure. All I can do is thank Him, and when my season comes, try to give and serve as I've been served.

There is a profound beauty in this: our little Amelia, and our little (probably) Harrison, are being brought safely into this world because of an amazing network of love and support and willing hands. They are already being protected and cared for by all of the grandparents, aunts, uncles, friends, church leaders, and neighbors who will continue to love and nurture them as they grow into the people they're supposed to be. That, to me, is the greatest blessing of all.