Thursday, March 3, 2016


“This month (March) shall be the beginning of months for you; it is to be the first month of the year to you.” Exodus 12:2

Diane Marquart Moore with her great granddaughter Kate Romero
I’ve always maintained that if everyone had the opportunity to hold a baby for about a half hour each morning, the world would become a better place to inhabit – and I’m able to add to this sage counsel that if everyone had the opportunity to hold twins each morning, they’d take a twofold mellow attitude into the world that day. I know because I had one newborn squeakbox under each arm yesterday morning — my great-granddaughters Kathryn Ann and Lillian Celeste Romero, and after holding them, I felt like I had just drunk a big cup of “Mello Joy”.

I had read all of this stuff about equations, models, and designs for showing differences and similarities in twins and looked at complicated scientific drawings that predicted behavioral differences, but when I saw those innocent faces framed by silky black hair, I decided to love both of them the same… despite any variations in personalities. Kate weighed in at 6 lbs. 3 oz., one minute before Lillian, who was slightly smaller at 5 lbs. 11 oz. Kate may be the most dominant of the pair because in ultra-sound pix taken before birth, she seemed to be sitting on Lillian during Kristin’s (their mother) entire pregnancy. However, I feel certain they’ll be “same-same” about loving each other.
Kathryn Ann and Lillian Celeste Romero, twin newborns

On March 1, “the beginning of months” for them, the skies were overcast when the day began, but by 9 a.m. a brilliant sun had appeared. I looked out of my window and saw oak leaves fluttering in a south wind and intuited that the twins had blown in. All would be well. A few moments later, their grandmother Stephanie called to announce their arrival. I went into the living room and picked up Robert Louis Stevenson's A Child’s Garden of Verses that I had bought for myself years ago and opened to my favorite poem entitled “Happy Thought:” “The world is so full of a number of things,/I’m sure we should all be as happy as kings.” I spent a few hours thinking about all the children’s books I wanted to share with them, “sitting safe in nursery nooks,/Reading picture storybooks.”

When I visited Kate and Lillian yesterday, they were swaddled in blankets and lying on their backs. They seemed to be totally relaxed about their entry into the world, living up to their names, both of which mean “pure” — free from discordant qualities (which means no all-night crying sessions, right?) and free from contamination (so I hope no one in their room turns on the news containing political posturing this week!).

Alex Romero with newborn sister
Here they are, waiting for all those arms to hold them… and one snapshot of big brother Alexander Charles enfolding one of them in his arms, excited about the miracle of two girls appearing in his life. He’s unmindful that he’ll soon have to share his toys and endure two girls following him to soccer games and places that he doesn’t want them to be. There’s even a snap of me in a happy moment bent over an infant that some people deem as “the first object of our compassion.”

A picture is worth a thousand of my words this morning, so I hope you’ll enjoy looking at the miracle of Kate and Lillian and will help me welcome them into a warm and cheerful world.

Photographs by Dad Martin and Victoria I. Sullivan

1 comment:

Margaret Simon said...

Congratulations on the twin great grands! Wow! What a miracle! Anne showed me a picture at church last night and then this post. I long for this day in my own life.