They are less than 6 months apart.
Everywhere I go people ask me if they are twins.
I smile and say, “Not quite.”
They glance back at me, puzzled, and his little ears pick up the new word.
“Twins!” he exclaims.
I laugh and keep walking.
They are brothers in every sense, except that they have different biological parents.
They share a room, books, toys and clothes.
They share memories and siblings and for now…parents.
They share the same hazel eyes and sandy brown hair.
“It must be challenging raising another child that is so close to your son’s age,” she says to me as we are washing dishes side by side.
I tilt my head sideways, thinking.
Is it?
It’s challenging when they are fighting over the same car, the same book, the same car seat, the same seat of the double stroller.
It’s challenging when one does not want to sleep and pokes the other awake; when they both need to be potty trained.
It’s challenging when I need to go shopping and there’s only one seat in the cart so one toddler has to walk, the shelves easily accessible to his eager hands.
It is challenging when my son learns to shout “No!” and throw himself down just like his little playmate.
It’s challenging when they get in each other’s way and hit each other and scream at each other and both end up in an angry, sobbing heap on my lap.
But those moments just feel like parenting.
They are tricky, but not impossible or unlike any other young family’s experiences with two children close in age.
What I think about more is how incredibly full my heart feels every day watching the two of them play.
From the time my son was very small, my husband and I always knew we wanted him to have a brother.
It feels like a boy should.
Someone to play hockey with him, wrestle, and generally make a ruckus with.
And though it may not be forever, right now my son has a brother.
I love to watch them play side by side.
They dig in the mud, stomp in puddles, run in that unsteady toddler gate chasing each other.
They topple over the back of the couch and giggle uncontrollably as they grab each other’s feet and pull one another to the ground.
My son adores his ‘big’ brother and follows him everywhere.
It doesn’t matter that he gets shouted at for wrecking the carefully lined up cars or pushed to the ground for touching a sandcastle.
It doesn’t matter that he gets water dumped on his head in the bathtub or snacks sneakily stolen from his bowl.
That one little boy has changed his life.
His life is so much more interesting and full of joy and life since O has come to stay.
While his big sisters go off to school, there is still a buzzing little ball of energy flying around the house; creating, exploring, chattering and laughing.
Love only multiplies.
This I am reminded of over and over and over again.
I try not to think about what it might be like for my son to lose his brother, because this is a reality for us as a foster family.
But even in that, I believe that these moments are worth any pain we may face down the road.
It is Little O who helped my son make the most progress with his motor skills and speech after his surgery.
It is Little O that taught him how to ride a bike and blow bubbles and pull the cushions off the couch.
It is Little O that makes him burst into that contagious belly laugh that fills up my heart with happiness.
It is Little O that prays for him every night.
When one more comes we don’t lose, we only gain.
Love only multiplies.
When you think there might not be enough, suddenly your heart expands and you realize there is more than you had before.
It doesn’t always happen overnight…for a while you feel like strangers are in your home.
But suddenly, you look back and can’t remember what it felt like to be 5 instead of 6.
Suddenly, the days he’s visiting his Grandma are oh so quiet.
Suddenly, you see how full and fun and happy your life is because of that extra little person.
And this is the beauty of love;
It only multiplies.
Little O filled a gap we didn’t even know we had, and we are grateful every day for his presence here with us.
Little O shares a lot of characteristics with one of my daughters…and this brings challenges to their relationship.
They both have a whole lot of feisty, spirited life tucked inside of them and it takes a very small spark to start a huge fire!
However, it was this child of mine that missed him most when we spent a week apart from him.
“I miss him so much, Mommy,” she would say to me every day.
Without him there, we felt a little incomplete.
And it is he that can bring the biggest smile to her face when he runs to her with his little arms outstretched, begging for a hug before she leaves for school.
Love only multiplies.
If you’re afraid that there might not be enough to go around,
that your children might suffer,
that you might not be able to love the way you want to…
remember this.
Love only multiplies.
“May the Lord make your love increase and overflow for each other and for everyone else, just as ours does for you.” [1 Thessalonians 3:12]
-AF
Adoption, Mommyhood & the Rest 