Twins are the best thing ever.

Seriously. I am not kidding.
Every once and a while (aka: several times a day) I look over at my children and think, "Some poor saps only get one baby at a time? What do they do? They must be so depressed, and lonely and their kids don't have a best friend, and what if your husband is holding your baby during church? You just have to sit there and listen? When you could be HOLDING A BABY INSTEAD? How sad!"

I know that some people read that and think "Becky is insane," but I also think that thinking twins rock the freaking world is a pretty normal response (or else being terrified out of your mind of twins) or people wouldn't run (actually RUN) up to me in grocery stores and yell "OH MY GOSH, I've always wanted twins!" and people wouldn't stop me and say "Twins? How old? I have twins, too. Aren't they FUN?" 
Because that's the thing: twins are fun.
And twins are amazing.

And people who have twins are amazing.
Not to toot my own horn, but my body made two babies. At once. 
Sometimes, like today, it just hits me all over again and I want to freak out.
One of my good friends, Cecelia, was 35 weeks pregnant with twins yesterday, and I got this terrifying text from her:
"I'm freaking out. Please say prayers for me. I'm at a 6. Just got to the doctor because I thought it was more cramps. No time to make it to a hospital with a NICU. I am hysterical and needing some good thoughts."
And I am usually not very good. When I receive texts or calls or emails like that, I usually stay where I am, and maybe bow my head a bit and offer a quick prayer like that. I feel guilty about that.
But yesterday I panicked, remembering my own terrifying birth and the need my babies had of the NICU and I instantly dropped to my knees and sobbed out a prayer begging for peace, and health and for everything and everyone to be fine.
And I called and texted a few more people, and kept praying, and I felt a bit of peace, but I was still scared.  Because I've learned that the peace that comes from God saying "It will all work out," doesn't always mean "It will all work out how you want."
Less than an hour and a half after the first text, Celia texted me again "The babies came super fast. I'm not sure of the exact weights but they are doing great. I had no drugs and am in a daze, but happy. Thank you for the love!"
Followed by this picture, and the caption: Ezra and Elliot. Just hanging out. Being Buds.

And I lost it again.

Amazing. Celia, babies, God. Amazing.
And my babies are amazing. I can't stop wondering and marveling at them.
Grey learned to whistle this week. WHISTLE! Amazing.

I really cannot think of another word to describe them.
Oh, and I visited another set of twin boys in the NICU this week, and (by the way) they were amazing, too. They were so strong. So tiny.
But they weren't that tiny. I just remembered when my boys were so small, and how hard it is to have babies in the hospital.  Their mom is another super mom.
I've gotten to just babbling, haven't I?
Well I'm not quite finished.

Someone (a mother of twins) said to my mom, "I'm sure your daughter is an amazing mom, because moms of twins are amazing."
And I look at the many women around me who have twins and think "No kidding."
On a nearly daily basis people say to me, "How do you do it?" and I feel cheesy saying things like this, but I believe that you rise to the challenges that you face. You don't know how strong you are until you need to be strong. And you might have your hands full with one baby, but you too could handle twins.
God would just put you into the refining fire, and bring out another super mom.
(Not to imply that moms of one baby, or many babies who aren't born at the same time aren't super moms. Many of them are... I'm just on my own twin train of thought today.)
Anyway. You can read Celia's birth story on her blog {Babies Are Simple} here.

And I'd actually love if you left your thoughts on the topic in the comments, and maybe even a link to your birth story (or that of another super mom that you know of.)
Because seriously, ladies? We freaking rock. Moms are the bomb.
And also, so are twins.