When my twin girls were in the womb, they were distinctly different. One kicked while the other one stretched. One got the hiccups, and the other was terrifyingly still after meals. 

This earned them a paired nickname.

Mackenzie, with her feisty kicks, strong-willed need to nestle in my ribcage, and her unending series of morse code punches, became known as The Bear. Tough, and roaring into the wild, wild world, she made her presence known. She hasn’t stopped in the 9 months I have known her. She can wail, she can scream in joy, and she is usually the first one to express a need or a complaint. She is, as her red hair would suggest, as hot-blooded and passionate as her mama. The name Mackenzie has a strong, intense ring to it. Scottish in origin (like her mama) the name demands attention – as does its namesake. She is unforgettable, unyielding, demanding significance. She will not be overlooked. But boy, can this girl hibernate. She has a sweet tenderness and peace about her when she finally decides to sleep. Her middle name, Rose, was chosen by her Daddy and it fits that she is both feisty with thorns and delicate with beauty. 

Olivia, on the other hand, was an entirely different baby in the womb. She is The Bunny. Relaxed, languid, and calm, she would occasionally stretch the full length of her body (giving her sister no other option but to retreat under the aforementioned ribs). This would end in a sweet shuddering collapse into the comfort of her fetal curl. She was born in silence, encouragingly kneaded into the steady consistency of breathing. She simply made noise when she was ready. And her cry was small and timid, desiring comfort even more than food. She needed special care for warmth and seemed to need a gentler, kinder safety in her snuggles as only a mama could deduce. The name Olivia somehow implied a simple beauty, and curious, unassuming nature which fits this baby perfectly. And Jean, though deceptively old-fashioned, is the name of my maternal Grandmother, and my mother’s middle name. But Olivia takes more than their name, and takes from these incredible women a totally different level of personality. It means she is decisive, intentional, talkative, and incredibly curious.

I don’t think I really understood what would happen when they came into the world. I made guesses and hoped to fully understand them someday. But I am a realist and I am aware that no mother can truly know her child because they are always growing and changing. The greatest piece of advice I was given was by one of my nurses at the hospital. She said, “Just remember, they are completely different babies.” Until then I assumed they would have all the same needs, and the same likes and dislikes. They would grow together, so to a new mother that made perfect sense.  I was naively unaware of the fact that they would truly be so different.

Then a new set of concerns emerged.  Would they like each other? Would they like me? Would I be able to meet both of their individual needs? It suddenly became a beautiful challenge to know them more deeply. I began to notice how their differences challenged me and gave me energy for each new thing. They find ways to exert their differences. They even comfort each other in tears. 

I didn’t understand how you could love two children equally and possess a love for them that is completely different. It's not like how I love summer and winter. Or how I love Tex-Mex and Thai food. Both, equally, for different reasons. But it's so much more possessing than that. It's wonderful and terrifying. 

Then it hit me. Jesus knows my girls deeply, inside and out. He will always meet them where they are, how he made them, with everything they need. He loves them better than I ever could. As this truth unfolded for me I recognized that he loves me this way, too. His love pours in equally and as beautifully for me as it does for my brother and sister in this world. Broken and bruised or walking directly with him, he loves us each. He knows us each individually. To Him we are a bunny or a bear. Or maybe even a T-Rex.

We are beloved by him, with a deep all possessing love that caused him to give his own child to pay for our sin. I pray my children will know his love and salvation, but just like their mama, it may take having children of their own to really understand the depth of love required for this kind of sacrifice. That is why I am only the mother of two sweet baby girls. Only the God of the Universe because of his greater purpose could give his child over to death to give us new life.