Connecting The Dots

Her life was in upheaval. How would she ever make sense of it?

- Danita Jones Madison, Alabama

I SAT IN MY PARENTS’ DEN—IN MY mama’s old chair—watching my dad wrestling with my almost-two-year-old twins. He would playfully toss one away from him, and then the other would come around and attack him from behind, giggling. It was impossible not to smile. But I was still confused and angry about the string of events that had brought us here. God had some explaining to do!

Less than two years earlier, against my better judgment and without my doctor’s knowledge, I’d come down to Alabama, where my parents lived, to produce and direct a show that my production company had been commissioned to perform. I was 32 weeks pregnant with the twins, but one thing I’ve learned working in the theater is that when opportunity knocks, you answer.

My husband, Paul, and I already had two other kids, one-year-old Layna and five-year-old Ethan, and they came with us. We drove straight from our home in Columbus, Ohio. All the while, I was reassuring Paul that it would just be a short visit. I’d do the gig, Mama and Daddy would have a chance to bond with their grandkids, and then we’d go home.

I was in this very spot—in the den— when my water broke. Six hours later, the twins arrived for their surprise birthday. Immediately they were whisked off to the NICU, where they stayed for the next 14 days.

PAUL HAD TO GET BACK to work, and Ethan needed to get back to school. Even after be-ing released from the hospital, the preemies were too fragile to handle the eight-hour drive to Ohio, so I stayed at my parents’ house with them and little Layna.