I opened Instagram a minute ago and I knew what I was looking at before it had even loaded. It was still blurry, but I can spot a twin ultrasound through a thousand fragmented pixels. With three taps in a matter of seconds, I had unfollowed the unsuspecting twin mom to be.
It’s been well over 2 years, but I still can’t look at twin ultrasound photos. Especially the early ones that are so clearly those two dark circles floating in space. I can’t handle the Baby A and Baby B labels. I do everything I can to avoid them.
I wonder if it will ever be easier? Will my first reaction to twin pregnancy announcements ever just be happiness? Will I always have to fake it? Will I ever not need to appease myself with the prepared dialog inside my head about how much better life is with just one kid?
Only time will tell.
Part of me is grateful for this reminder—however uncomfortable it may be. Time does not necessarily mean healing. Acceptance does not necessarily mean peace. Small does not mean insignificant.