Summer Babies

Hot August, the heat index in central Mississippi in three digits, up to 118, too hot to breathe, to play outdoors, so hot the streets are buckling. So hot that when Jillian goes outside her face quickly turns as red as a tomato on the vine.

These summer pictures of the twins make me forget the heat — cool clothes, cool colors, very cool children.

Jillian (“Jillie”)

Hardy (“Mr. Hardy,” named for his great-grandfather…and me)

It’s a Girl! And a Boy!

“We” just finished an ultrasound on this the day before Thanksgiving. I say “we” because I got to be there via conference call and witness the event with my son and daughter-in-law.

Baby A is a girl…no doubt about it. Baby B is a boy. “Unmistakable” came the comment from the one holding the wand. Baby B was kicking Baby A, and she was swatting him back. Reflex, I’m sure.

So now we can buy pink…I already have…last April or May, I bought a precious pink outfit, when in vitro was first discussed. And now I can pull out those tiny blue and white oxfords!

We can call them by name. Winston Hardy. Jillian Autumn. I have a little blue suit my mother-in-law made 65 years ago for her son — Charlie, or Winston, his alias — so I will pull it out and wash it by hand and get it ready for a picture!

A boy, a girl. It’s Thanksgiving!

Heeeere’s Winston!

The Twins!

The Twins!

These are my grandchildren-to-be. One baby is on his/her head, and the other is lying flat on his/her back. “One is looking at the other’s butt,” my son said. They are three inches long. I’m pretending one’s a boy — Winston Hardy — and one’s a girl — Jillian Autumn. Winston and Jill. We won’t know for sure until the next ultrasound, the day after Thanksgiving.



Nicole has just completed her first trimester. Her birthday is Election Day, and she is getting maternity clothes — and she already needs them.

Amazing how these tiny things can bring such hope, in a time when hope has not been my partner.


Twins. Two healthy babies. Two strong heartbeats.

Due late April.

Did I say twins?