For years, you don’t talk about the baby stuff. I have good friends whom I’ve known for over a decade and we haven’t shared birth stories.
But now, Perran and Carenza have started asking.
It’s good to be able to say yes, I breast fed you.
It also brings back what a disrupted, chaotic time it was.
“I’m not sure what your first words were, though I do remember you both trying to say flower.”
“I’m not sure when you walked – just before your first birthday.”
“You were born in the middle of the night. I’m certain of that because it was dark.”
The tag from the hospital falls out of a photo album and reveals that, in fact, they were born just after midday.
In for a penny, in for a pound. I confessed how for several years I had mistakenly celebrated their birthday on Feb 9th instead of Feb 5th, until my friend Gina prompted me to check by saying – actually the ninth is my birthday and I’m sure I would have remembered if you’d had your twins then.
They stare at me with unblinking eyes. If their own mother can get their birthday wrong…
It is clear that I have taken confession too far and rocked their world.