Suddenly, there was a flurry of activity, including a drape being yanked over to block Sarah’s view. I remembered reading approximately ten to twenty-five percent of twin births resulted with one being born vaginally and the other by emergency C-section.
The drape meant even though the odds were on our side, statistics had let us down.
When they had insisted I wear sterile garb, I thought it was just a hospital regulation for delivering in the OR—I never thought for a moment they’d actually have to cut Sarah open.
Please God, let him be okay. I didn’t want to leave Sarah’s side, and I couldn’t discern how much she was hearing.
Heidi Murkoff’s book stressed it was important to stay calm, even though everything would start to move quickly. She advised in the case of an emergency not to worry. Was the woman mad?
I willed myself not to enter panic mode. Holding Sarah’s hand, I said, “Everything’s going to be fine.”
“I feel something, I think,” Sarah said as if in a daze.
I peered over the drape and saw the horizontal incision. Serious mistake. Yet, I couldn’t stop watching. There was graphic, and then there was seeing your wife’s stomach slit open like some perverted medical experiment.
Forcing my eyes to Sarah’s worried face, I reiterated, “Everything’s going to be fine.” I never thought acting was in my future, but maybe I should give it a go, because right now I deserved a fucking Oscar for pretending to be cool, calm, and in control. I leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I love you. You’re doing great.”
Unlike Olivia, Fred was eased out of Sarah’s belly.
“Here we go, Freddie,” said the OB.
Our son was here and was deathly quiet.
The OB clipped his cord, not even bothering to offer the scissors to me.
He was bustled away to a side table. Three pairs of blue-gloved hands pounced on him. A tiny oxygen mask was put over his mouth. A neonatologist, a man whose name I couldn’t remember, had been waiting in the wings in case he was needed, and he now joined the group.
“Come on, Freddie,” one of them urged.
I glanced over to the other bed where someone was measuring Olivia’s head with a tape measure. She was so tiny and fragile. I dabbed a tear on my cheek. She was turning pink, as if coming to life, but Freddie remained blue.
The man placed a stethoscope on Freddie’s chest. Others patted him and wiggled him about.
A machine beeped, and the male doctor chanted, “Come on. Come on, come on, little one.”
Please God, I know I never talk to you, but if you’re there, please help my son.
The neonatologist continued repeating, “Come on.”
Four individuals waited anxiously at our son’s side, fierce determination on all of their faces.
I glanced at Sarah. The doctor was stitching up the incision. Someone was messing with her IV. Concern showed through the exhaustion in her eyes. I forced a confident smile, which she reciprocated. Shit, Sarah deserved the Oscar, because I knew she was in hell worrying about Freddie, but more than likely didn’t want to alarm me.
“He’s beautiful,” I said, trying to convey everything was A-okay.
She didn’t take her eyes off me, unable to see Fred. Stay calm, Lizzie. For Sarah. And your son.
“There… he’s perking up.” The man cradled Freddie’s head in one giant palm.
Olivia was swaddled up in a blanket, and before I could process what was happening, I was cradling my daughter, both eyes still glued on Freddie.
Freddie started to pinken, and Sarah called me over to her side.
Everything was happening so fast. I had hoped Sarah hadn’t heard the commotion surrounding Freddie, considering the burst of action and the drape blocking her view. At least I prayed she didn’t.
“Hi, Olivia. I’m your mom.” I slowly walked to Sarah, afraid I’d break the fragile creature in my arms, and held her out for Sarah to see. “This is your other mom. She’s your super mom, considering what you and your brother just put her through.” I kissed the top of Ollie’s head.
Sarah cried and motioned that she wanted to hold her. I handed her off as if I was transferring the most delicate object on the planet. Sarah nuzzled her. “Is Fred okay?”
“Of course he is.” I glanced across the room. “He’s turning the most beautiful shade of pink.”
I wasn’t lying, much to my relief.
***
After being transferred to the room, and what seemed like an eternity, Freddie was placed in my arms. “Hi, Freddie.” Tears trickled down my face.
Thank you, God. I owe you one.
Olivia wailed, and Sarah beamed.
“Boy you have a set of lungs,” she whispered. “Look at your brother—quiet as a mouse.” Sarah nearly tripped over the last part but forged on. Was it for her benefit? Olivia’s? Mine?
“I want to hold him.” Sarah made room, and I placed Freddie into her cradled right arm. “There you go.”
Freddie seemed peaceful, nestled into Sarah’s warmth.
Olivia’s tiny mouth opened and closed, her pink tongue poking in and out.
“I think we know which one will be the troublemaker,” I joked.
Sarah smiled. “They’re perfect. I can’t believe they’re here.”
***
“Where the hell are they?” Tie’s voice echoed down the hospital hallway.
“If we don’t find them soon, I’m leaving.” I could practically picture Peter’s pout.
“Oh, are your niece and nephew interrupting your golf game? 201… 203.” Tie’s cheery face appeared around the doorjamb. “We’re here!”
Maddie stifled a laugh. Sarah’s grin showed her true feelings, but it had nothing to do with Peter and Tie. She was exhausted from having given birth to two babies less than four hours ago. I sat in a chair next to Sarah’s hospital bed, with Freddie cradled in my arms. Maddie, standing by the window, held Ollie. Sarah and I had decided not to have anyone else in the room during the delivery, but Maddie and Sarah’s mom, Rose, had been at the hospital the entire time.
“Oooh… I want one.” Tie made a beeline for Maddie, her arms outstretched.
Maddie caught Sarah’s eye, as if to ask permission to hand over the innocent bundle. Sarah gave a slight nod.
“You’re so tiny and beautiful,” Tie cooed.
Maddie looked Peter up and down. “Does Gordon Gekko know you’re raiding his closet and hair gel?”
Peter was clad in a blue-and-white striped shirt, red suspenders, and a polka-dot tie. His hair was slicked, as if he’d dipped a wide-tooth comb in super glue and brushed straight back. If Peter were caught in a category-5 hurricane, not one hair would budge.
He snarled at Maddie.
Tie jiggled Ollie in her arms, smiling. “Don’t pay him any attention. I pulled him out of a meeting.” She nuzzled her chin against Ollie’s fuzzy head.
“Not just any meeting. A board meeting.” He straightened his tie and fiddled with a silver monogrammed cufflink.
Tie rolled her eyes and turned her back on him. “What are their names?”
Maddie inched next to her and tugged on Ollie’s fingers. “This is Olivia, and Lizzie’s holding Frederick. They already have nicknames. Ollie and Freddie.”
“Hello, Ollie. I’m your aunt Tie-Fannie.”
It was hard not to laugh at her pronunciation.
Not missing a beat, Maddie said, “But you can call her Aunt Tie.”
Tie bounced on the balls of her feet. “Yes, you can. And Freddie.” She glanced over to me, indicating she wanted to hold the delicate child in my protective arms.
I didn’t want to let go, but Sarah’s forced smile and determined eyes demanded I let the spaz hold my son, even if he hadn’t been able to take his first breath on his own.
Maddie scooped Ollie from her hands, and Tie waited expectantly with open arms.
“Be careful with this one.” I re
luctantly handed off Freddie.
Maddie studied me in that way of hers, trying to suss out the reason behind my comment, but she soon shook it off and attempted to thrust Ollie into Peter’s arms. “Hold your niece.”
Peter backpedaled. “Uh, I don’t know how.”
“You don’t know how to hold a human being?” She scoffed.
Peter bent forward. “It’s so tiny.”
“It’s a she. Ollie.” Maddie smiled at Olivia and hoisted her up to get an eyeful of Peter. “Ollie, this is your uncle Peter. He acts like he owns the world, but he can be a nice guy about as often as you witness Halley’s Comet.” Maddie placed Ollie in Peter’s arms.
He frowned at Maddie and then stared down at my daughter. “Hi… Olivia.” Peter looked as natural as Attila the Hun might look holding a baby on the battlefield.
Sarah and I exchanged a look that communicated, Good grief. Would it kill Peter to call our child by her nickname?
“Hello.” My father’s voice was softer than usual as he edged into the room.
“Hi, Charles,” Maddie and Sarah said in unison, causing my father to smile, sort of—what passed for a smile.
A smiling woman in her early fifties stood next to him, her arm looped through my father’s. Her other hand held a gift bag with two teddy bears poking out.
“You must be Helen,” Sarah said. “Thanks so much for coming.”
“Thanks for having me.” She put a hand out for me to shake. “Lizzie?”
I nodded, confused as to how she’d recognized me so quickly, and clasped her warm hand. Maybe she noticed the family resemblance, or had my father shown her pictures of his children? Quite possibly my wrung-out appearance screamed I was the other parent in the delivery room.
“It’s nice meeting you.” I waved to the bed. “But Sarah is the hero of the day.”
Sarah motioned for them to bring it in for a hug. I glimpsed a look of relief on my father’s face. Leave it to Sarah to put everyone at ease, even after the trial she’d just survived.
Dad sidled up next to Peter and asked, “Who’s this?”
“Olivia,” Peter’s tone softened, and his stance grew more relaxed. Maybe there was hope for him after all. “Here.” He handed Ollie to her grandfather.
Dad, much to my surprise, full-on smiled. Helen grinned, too, making me wonder how long she’d wanted to be a part of the Petrie family. Should I warn the poor woman?
Freddie started to fuss in Tie’s arms.
“Come to Mommy, Freddie.” Sarah waved Tie over.
Nestled on Sarah’s chest, Freddie opened his mouth and clumsily licked his hand for a moment, as if searching for something.
A lactation consultant in zoo animal print scrubs entered the room, taking in all the people, balloons, and stuffed animals before setting her sights on Freddie. “Oh, good. He’s hungry.” The woman stood by Sarah’s side and untied Sarah’s gown, exposing a full breast.
I stood in the middle of the chaos, dumbfounded.
Maddie and Tie migrated to Dad and Olivia, joined by Helen. No one seemed flustered by the feeding taking place five feet away.
The consultant gave Sarah instructions and encouraged Freddie to latch onto the nipple.
Rose entered without much ado, nodding to those whom she knew before hightailing it over to her daughter and grandson. She and the woman exchanged a few words and continued to encourage Sarah and Freddie.
I glanced around the room. Only Peter’s mouth was forming an O. We locked eyes briefly.
“Can I get anyone anything?” He scouted the room frantically, and I considered that it was probably the first time I’d ever seen him wanting to be ordered about.
“Coffee for me.” Tie smiled knowingly. “Anyone else?”
Everyone but Sarah nodded.
“Uh, I’ll join you,” I said.
“Cool,” he said. Then I think the situation sunk in, and he straightened. “Elizabeth.” He motioned for me to walk ahead of him.
We walked in silence for several minutes until we located a coffee cart near the hospital wing entrance.
“How many do we need?” I asked.
“You’ve always been terrible at math.” He shook his head, but his tone lacked its usual condemnation. “Let’s see. Tiff, Dad, Hel—” He held three fingers in the air, as if hesitant to utter her full name. “Maddie, you, and me.” He continued to hold six fingers in the air. “Sarah can’t, right?”
“Correct, but don’t forget Rose. And I prefer chai. Six coffees and one chai.” I whirled about and rattled off the order to a teenage boy with floppy hair and acne.
Standing to the side, waiting for the orders, Peter shifted on his feet. “How does it feel, being a parent?”
“Surreal. I know I had months to prepare for it, but today, when it was happening, it was…” I didn’t finish, not knowing how to describe what had occurred hours before. How could I tell my brother, whom I wasn’t even close to, about Sarah’s legs in the air, the blood, the amniotic crud, the screaming, pushing, crying, and moaning? It was like a war zone, with my wife and babies in the midst of everything. And all I could do was stand by, helpless.
“A little late for cold feet.” He laughed, stopping abruptly.
I shrugged. “Sarah was absolutely amazing. I could never do that.”
“Well, you’re on the hook now. Save your pennies for two college funds.” He laughed again, but his stare drifted to the sliding doors at the entrance. I remembered Tie’s comment that she’d prefer a surrogate. Was she kidding? It was hard to tell what to believe when it came to Tie—and to Peter, for that matter. However, considering the expense for us getting pregnant, I wondered whether he would worry about the cost of a surrogate. The bottom line was the only line that mattered in Peter’s world.
His iPhone buzzed, and he glanced at the screen. “Uh, congrats.” He ran a hand over his hair, which made a crunching sound.
Had Tie texted to remind him to congratulate me? Or had Maddie? My money was on Maddie. I put a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks, Peter.”
How Tie managed to drag him out of the office on a Monday morning was a mystery. It shocked me, although it was a shock I probably could have lived without. Despite that, for Peter, he was being relatively pleasant. Would me becoming a parent and Peter becoming an uncle shift our relationship into different territory?
“Here you go. Six coffees and one chai.” The pimpled teen gestured to the cups crammed into two cardboard carriers.
When we returned to the room, Ollie was latched onto Sarah’s nipple. Helen held Freddie, with Rose clasping his fingers. My father had an arm ringed around Helen’s waist. I’d never seen him do that with my mother. I blinked several times before I let my eyes focus on what mattered.
Sarah smiled down at our daughter.
Daughter.
Son.
Wife.
How did this happen to me, an independent woman? Yesterday we were two, and now we were four.
A shudder ran through me.
As if her sixth sense had kicked in, Maddie flung an arm around my shoulder. “You look exhausted,” she whispered.
“Don’t be silly. Sarah did all the work.” I handed her a coffee and motioned to the sugar and cream packets in the middle of the carrier.
She leaned closer. “Sarah said you were amazing. I’m proud of you.”
My nostrils burned, and my vision blurred. Sarah watched me from the bed, smiling, at peace amid the chaos of our complicated family and the roller coaster of emotions that came with over twenty-four hours of labor. I smiled back as a sense of calm suddenly whooshed through me.
Tie plucked Freddie from Helen’s arms and cuddled him to her chest. “That settles it, Peter. I want one.”
Peter tugged on his collar and sipped his scolding hot coffee. I could tell he was holding back a venomous sneer. “I already gave you your coffee. Do you need another already?”
She shook her
head. “Not that. A baby. I want a baby. Now.”
Peter’s facial muscles didn’t budge, but I sensed he was experiencing the sensation of the ground disappearing from under his feet. Aside from Tie’s baby talk, everything else in the room fell silent, making it clear I wasn’t the only one to notice his panic.
Chapter Eleven
A few weeks later, I woke at three minutes after two in the morning in an empty bed. I yawned and dragged my body to the nursery. Sarah sat in a rocking chair, feeding Freddie and humming softly to him. Not wanting to wake Olivia, I waved at her and parked my butt on the window ledge by the chair, patting the top of Freddie’s head.
“Why are you up? The next wail is all yours,” Sarah whispered, covering her mouth to mute the sound and stifle a yawn.
“I missed you,” I whispered back.
“Aw, that’s sweet, but don’t even think of getting out of your slot.”
I leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Weeks before the twins arrived, Sarah and I had plotted out several different scenarios and arrangements for nightly feedings to make things fair. Sarah was concerned about my sleep on the nights before I had to lecture, but it wasn’t acceptable for her to be the only one to get up at night. Rose had purchased a top-of-the-line breast pump and hospital-worthy cozy recliner for nursing mothers.
Mostly, the schedules we devised were utterly useless. We finally agreed to taking turns whenever we could. Having twins meant both babies often needed attention at the same time. Some nights, I pulled more shifts; other nights, Sarah did. We finally admitted defeat and hoped that in the long run, everything would even out. Our ultimate goal became surviving one night at a time.
In twenty-one days as a parent, the only thing I’d learned about babies was that they didn’t care about the time of day, schedules, or anything. Pissing, pooping, crying, and eating took precedence, and both of our lives now revolved around those actions. Yet, I loved it. Who knew twin chaos would suit me, the über freak whose watch required seven daily alarms to keep me on schedule?
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