You shared a womb.  
You shared a room.  
You shared a bed.  
You shared the bath.  
You shared my arms.  
You shared my breasts. 
He has straight white-blond hair. 
You have curly golden hair.
His eyes are blue.
Yours are green.
His shoulders are broad. 
Your shoulders are narrow. 
You are a twin.  
You are a person. 
You are my heart. 

 You were different from the beginning.

You were together, but separate.  I loved you both from the first flutter felt. Inside of me, I could have told you which baby was moving and which one was still.  

He loves building and dissecting, cars and mechanical things, lightbulbs, remotes, and cub scouts. He is daddyʼs right-hand man.

You love designing and creating with colors and fabrics.  “I like your earrings” you boldly told your preschool teacher.  You feel perfectly pretty in pink.  

I am so sad. 
I am sad because people think that you are broken or sick.

I am so angry.
I am angry about the judgment that you face, that you will face.

“Our world gets sicker every day.”  
“Boy!!! The Devil is on a rampage!!!!” 

The Devil?
          REALLY?

They don't know you.  
They haven't lived in your skin. 
They haven't lived in my skin. 
They haven't held you as you dissolved into tears because you think that you hurt another person.
They haven't heard your tender conversations, questions, and expressions of love for a God unseen. 
They haven't listened to the sweet rhythm of your soft breaths as you drifted off to sleep. 
They haven't prayed for you on buckled knees.

They haven't watched you and your brother grow into two

 perfectly lovely
perfectly different
children.
“Congratulations on the birth of your twin boys” they told me. 
You tell me you want to be a girl.
I dressed you in blue  
But you love pink.
My darling child, live as your honest heart exists.
I will be your champion to help you find your joy; whatever it may be.

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