Twins and More

Peace on Earth^R7

Donna Milligan Meadows

"Peace on earth, good will to men" sang out from the stereo. I usually love Christmas carols, but peace on earth had absolutely nothing to do with me this Christmas. I hadn't felt any peace since August when I had heard the doctor say excitedly to me, "Donna, it's triplets!" My mouth had dropped open as I gazed at him with unbelieving eyes.

They were due in October, and suddenly we were catapulted into a frenzy, having only two months to get ready for three babies instead of the one we had thought was coming. We already had two children. Melissa was three-and-a-half and David was two. They had begun to understand, as much as very young children can, that soon a baby was supposed to emerge from Mommy's watermelon tummy and they would be a big sister and a big brother. How do you even begin to prepare them for three helpless infants? We went into panic mode.

"We need two more cribs, Randy. How will we ever fit three cribs into this ten-foot-by-ten-foot room?"

"Do you realize how many diapers we are going to need?"

"Can you breastfeed triplets?"

"Will we ever sleep again?"

October arrived along with three very healthy babies, two boys and a girl. Our lives became a whirlwind of activity, with feeding, bathing, feeding, diapering, feeding, consoling, feeding, crying (it was usually me doing the crying), feeding, tending, feeding, feeding and feeding. "I can get through the next minute without screaming," I would often tell myself as I heard one of the babies start to cry again. Somehow the days passed until it was December and time to think about getting ready for Christmas.

We had some wonderful Christmas traditions, our favorite being a family get-together on Christmas Eve with my parents and my sister and her family. How could I ever prepare for a family party with five children under the age of four? "Please put the tree up in the living room for me," I begged my husband as I sat each baby in a swing and one toddler temporarily on each end of a couch, as far away from each other as possible.

I'd get a few decorations on the tree before having to pluck a crying baby out of the swing. "Melissa, please don't throw the ornaments," I begged as I used my free hand to grab the back of David's shirt to keep him from climbing into the just-emptied baby swing. I wondered if a decorated tree was going to be impossible as I stood looking at the total confusion in the room. After a few moments of contemplation, I called to my husband. "Randy, set up the playpen. I've got a great idea!"

It looked quite strange to see a Christmas tree in a playpen, but it looked beautiful from outside. No one could tell just by driving by that our decorations were quite unusual. I don't remember where we hung the stockings. I gave up completely the idea of baking Christmas cookies. We didn't hang any lights outside, and I can't imagine how we ever got any presents purchased, let alone wrapped. The presents did fit nicely in the playpen, too, out of the reach of busy little hands.

I saw my family drive up on Christmas Eve and stuffed a few toys under the couch. It was pretty much chaos throughout the house as my sister's little girl joined our two little ones. "Santa's coming, Santa's coming," they chanted while running in circles around the room. One of the babies kept crying. I couldn't imagine what was wrong until I suddenly realized that I had fed his brother twice, and he had missed out on his dinner. Where was the peace that you hope for at Christmastime? I didn't think I would ever feel peace again.

We ate dinner, and as my mom got the kitchen cleaned up, we tried to corral the kids. "It's time to tell the Christmas story. Please quiet down! And stand still," I begged as I tried to use old towels to dress Melissa and David up as Mary and Joseph and my niece as a shepherd girl. I'm not sure which baby boy was the infant Jesus, but the other made a great sheep dressed in his snowsuit, and Melanie made a beautiful angel, dressed in her blessing dress. "Shhhh," I hushed the kids as Grandpa began to read from the Bible.

And then a miracle happened. The babies completely quieted down, and the older children turned all their attention to the quiet words and listened with rapt concentration to the beautiful story of the baby Jesus being born. As I looked around at all of the adults in the room, there were tears on everyone's cheeks. The spirit of Christ was in the room, and the peace I had wondered about earlier had arrived.

Most of that Christmas is still a blur, but I will always remember with great clarity the overwhelming calm I felt as I listened to the Christmas story that night and watched my beautiful children experience the feeling of the spirit of Christ in their hearts. I knew then that peace on earth was possible, for it was in my home that night.

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