Over two years ago, I was sitting in the waiting room of our fertility clinic. It was one of the 14 days of consecutive blood draws and ultrasounds during the egg retrieval phase. They do this to check your hormone levels and see if your follicles are numerous enough and large enough to “trigger” the release of eggs–hoping to get as many mature, healthy ones as possible.

There was always something comforting about those waiting rooms. When other patients would come in, though I didn’t know their stories, it always felt like we had a kinship. We had both endured something to get to a family.

As I sat for the few minutes before I was called back, a husband and wife entered through the doors, carrying two infant car seats. The woman checked in and went to the back, and the man came and sat across from me, rotating the car seats and revealing four beautiful eyed staring back at me.

He pulled them out of their car seats and let them sit on the ground. Two girls with the same light hair and blue eyes, the same mini ponytail hoisting their few strands up and the same little denim outfits. I caught my breath. It was not often that you’d see children in the office.

I unapologetically stared, tears welling in my eyes. I looked at their father and began to ask, “are they–?”

“Yep, they are Conceptions babies!” He grinned and chuckled, “we weren’t planning on two, but we just got lucky I guess.” He looked down at them with a warm smile.

“They are perfect,” I said with a smile. I swallowed the knot twisting in my throat. It wasn’t anger or jealousy, it wasn’t the bitterness I was used to feeling at the sight of little ones, it was something much sweeter. Hope.

I was called back to the blood draw lab where I continued rolling the idea back and forth in my mind–twins. I smiled. Twins.

I called Anthony after and told him about them. “I know I’ve always said I’d never want twins,” I said and I nearly heard him nod on the other end. Anthony had always wanted twins and had been vocal about it since we started dating.

I remember telling him, “I have no control over that, and it’s not like it runs in our family.”

“Well,” I said, knowing I may never live down what I was about to admit, “I don’t think I’d mind so much.”

I look back to this moment often and how incredibly complex and yet simple it is when God prepares your heart for something. The interaction couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, but it gave me a sense of hopefulness and readiness for being a twin mom that only that experience could have.

Just remember, His plan is so much bigger than ours. We could not begin to understand the significance of even the smallest details that He orchestrates. I didn’t know it then, but He planted a seed of confidence and even an unexpected desire for multiples that I had never had before.