Like all grand traditions, it began with little ceremony.

Storytime was followed by prayer time, which was followed by cuddle time. And then Daddy did his blanket ritual where he’d toss it up and over two giggling little girls until his arms fell off before he was allowed to stop. And then Mommy and Daddy said goodnight and sweet dreams and made their quick exit, remembering, as always, to leave the door open and the toilet light on.

Daddy would read his magazines on the can. Mommy would take her shower. And then Daddy would take his shower. And Mommy would go downstairs and play her video games or read her remaining 73 blog feeds.

For months now, that had been our routine.

Until yesterday.

After my shower, I’d closed my room door behind me, and as always, I’d looked across towards the darkened room where my two daughters slept.

But yesterday, I felt something tug. Like a wind with my name, it whispered and took my hand. I was led silently to the door. And when I peered inside, my heart swelled.

My children. My beautiful, perfect children.

For no other reason than the need to reaffirm that they were mine, I stepped in to hold them.

As I picked Skyler, my 21-month old ex-preemie up from her cot, her face instinctively snuggled deep into my neck, tucking her right arm underneath mine, as she had always done since she was an infant. I sat down at the edge of Rae’s bed, and stretched my fingers towards my older daughter’s hands, until I felt Rae’s fingers close over mine.

And there, in the dark, I hummed what Lokes calls my ‘Chinese New Year song’, this nonsensical yet soothing tune I’d started humming the day I became a mother on June 6th 2002. This bizarre, wordless, yet comforting little tune I’d made to lull my babies to sleep.

There we sat, holding on to each other.

Mother and children.

My daughters and me.

Holding on to the love we felt for each other that words alone will never be able to describe.

And I didn’t ever want to let go.

When I was 26, a fortune teller told me I was born lucky.

Yesterday, I realised that I am the luckiest person I know.