Let’s see.

Elijah is now almost 11 weeks old.

Seven years ago, when Anna was 11 weeks old we probably conceived Noah. I’m not sure about my math but it was pretty darn close. All I know is that Anna was in her bouncy seat at a very young age when I took a pregnancy test that turned out positive.

I was totally and completely caught off guard. Brian was totally and completely caught off guard. Our dinner had just been delivered, in one hand, a slice of pizza, the other, a positive pregnancy test.

I remember driving to the drug store to buy another pregnancy test, in case the last one was defective, and crying because I had JUST started drinking diet coke again and I had to give it up. Again.

And also crying because OhMyGod. I was pregnant.

The kids are less than a year apart, that first year was one of the most difficult times we’ve ever had to endure. We never rested, we never had time to ourselves, sacrifices were made. Every single day.

And in return, we have two kids who truly are the best of friends.

Even on their bad days? They have each other. The way they know each other and comfort each other is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.

Yesterday, I watched them sitting together on top of their slide in the backyard, eating their ice cream cones, looking nearly like twins, surveying the neighborhood and having a conversation.

Individually they are incredible. Together, they take my breath away.

They don’t always get along. But when they do it’s awesome. And in the next few years I know their relationship will certainly have it’s trials and thunderstorms.

But twenty years down the road, I know they’ll always be grateful that they have one another. It’s an amazing gift.

How can we not give the same to Elijah?

{Edited to add: No, I am NOT pregnant!}