The Miracle of the Mighty Twins
If 2023 was the year of Zechariah, God remembered me, then 2024 became the year of learning to trust Him with every step. My anchor in that season was Proverbs 3:5–6: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek His will in all you do, and He will show you which path to take.” I had to lean into that truth and have faith like never before.
In January 2024, we decided to try one last time for a baby. The decision was wrapped in prayer, and from the start the pregnancy was different. I was put on blood thinners right away because of the clotting disorder we had discovered after Jonah. It was both terrifying and comforting to know that God had prepared us with answers we didn’t have before. Even so, every injection felt like a fresh reminder that my life and the life of the baby were not in my hands.
Early on, God gave me a dream. In it, Jeff and I were parents to twins. I woke with a certainty that it wasn’t just a dream, but a glimpse of what was to come. I remembered the number six, four babies in Heaven with my mom, and now two to be with us. The dream became a promise I held onto, even when circumstances grew hard. And it was right. All early blood tests pointed to twins, which was confirmed in my first ultrasound.
But in those first weeks I carried a lot of fear and doubt. “Why bother,” I thought, if we are just going to lose these babies too? My church anointed me with oil and prayed over me, and I felt immediately lighter and freer. The fear lifted, and for a time it felt like a normal pregnancy.
That moment changed me. I began opening my Bible every single day with a goal to read it straight through, something I had never done before. The more I read, the stronger my faith became. Scripture became my daily bread and my lifeline, and even now, I am about to finish reading the entire Bible for the very first time. That shift carried me through the rest of the pregnancy with a confidence that God was with me and with these babies no matter what lay ahead.
Around 20 weeks, I started having a sense deep inside that the babies would come early. At 23 weeks the OB noticed cervical shortening but did not seem overly concerned. Still, we canceled our out-of-state baby shower planned for the end of June. We didn’t want to risk being stuck far from home in the NICU for months if the babies came that early. We made that call on a Friday, and on Monday morning of week 26, my water broke. By Tuesday morning I was in labor and delivered by emergency c-section under general anesthesia.
At just 26 weeks, my body could no longer hold the pregnancy. I went into labor early due to cervical shortening and PPROM. Our twins came rushing into the world far too soon. They were impossibly tiny and fragile, and the NICU became our home for four long months. Those weeks stretched me beyond anything I thought I could endure. Between monitors, alarms, feeding tubes, and endless pumping, hour drives each way to the hospital, maintaining our jobs… sleep was scarce.
And that all ramped up once they were home. Most nights I survived on two broken hours at best. Both babies struggled with severe, life-threatening reflux. Isaac especially faced battles I could not have imagined. He underwent two surgeries at 6 months of life, and we spent Christmas in the PICU wondering if he would survive. The weight of fear pressed in from every side. But God. Over and over, that truth rose up and carried us when we had nothing left.
Ava and Isaac became my tiny warriors. They fought with everything in them, and somehow God gave us the strength to fight alongside them. The NICU and PICU taught me new levels of surrender. I could not control oxygen levels or feeding schedules or medical complications. All I could do was trust the Lord with all my heart, refuse to lean on my own understanding, and believe that He was guiding our path even through the valley of shadows.
Looking back, 2024 was both the hardest and most miraculous year of my life. The dream God gave me came true in ways that still leave me in awe. We brought home two babies who had stared death in the face and thrived.
Ava’s name means “life.” Isaac’s name means “laughter.” They both demonstrate those truths every single day.
The path was nothing like I would have chosen, but the Lord was faithful. He showed us which way to walk, step by step, breath by breath. And now, as I write these words with toddlers at my feet, I see that His mercy has carried us every step of the way.
