That's when Mr. Smith reminded me that I had more work to do, and my midwife scooped up John and handed him to a nurse. I tried to keep my eyes on my firstborn, but a fresh wave of pain enveloped me. I closed my eyes and moaned. The epidural seemed to be wearing off. I begged for another dose. My doctor told me no, offering some explanation I couldn't begin to focus on. Ethan kept repeating that I could do it.
Several minutes of agony later, I heard another wail. John's brother was born seconds after midnight. Identical twins with their own, separate birthdays. Although I knew the babies were identical, I was no less eager to see my second born. Ethan cut the umbilical cord, and my midwife swaddled the baby and handed him to me. Through more tears, I instantly surmised that this baby shared his brother's features, but his were slightly more defined. He was also a bit smaller, with slightly more hair. He wore a determined expression that struck me as amusing on such a tiny, new baby. Again, his name just came to me.
"You are Thomas," I whispered down at him. He opened one eye and peeped at me with apparent approval.
"May I hold them both together?" I asked my doctor.
He nodded and brought John back to my chest.
Ethan asked me if I had settled on middle names. I thought of Ethan's middle name, Noel, and decided that each of my sons should have a part of the best man I knew.
"Yes," I said. "Their names are John Noel and Thomas Ethan."
Ethan took a breath, blinking back tears. "I'm so… honored," he said, looking both surprised and touched. Then he leaned down to embrace us. "I love you, Darcy," he whispered in my ear. "I love all three of you."
* * *
thirty-two
For the next twenty-four hours, I had no sense of day or night. It was just a blur of time with John and Thomas. Ethan never left my side, unless on a specific mission for peanut butter crackers from the vending machine, painkillers from the nurses, or booties from the gift shop in the lobby of the hospital. He slept on a cot next to my bed, helped me to the bathroom, and snapped roll after roll of black-and-white film.
Ethan also saw to it that I phoned my mother. When I balked, saying I was too exhausted and hormonal to deal with her, he dialed my home number on his mobile and said, "Here. You'll regret it if you don't do this."
I took his phone just as my mother answered.
"Hi, Mom. It's me," I said, feeling defeated before the conversation even began.
"Hello, Darcy." Her voice was as formal and stiff as it had been on Christmas Eve.
I refused to be hurt and instead swiftly delivered my news. "I had my babies, Mom." Before she could respond, I covered the basics, giving her their full names, as well as their weights, lengths, and times of birth.
Then I said, "Can you believe it, Mom? Twins born on separate days?" I looked down at John, sleeping on my chest, and then over at Thomas, whom Ethan was holding.
My mother asked me to repeat everything so she could write it down. I did, and then she said, "Congratulations, honey." A softness crept into her voice.
"Thanks, Mom," I said, as Ethan prompted me to share the smaller, but in many ways more important, details. "Tell her how John cries more than Thomas and has a birthmark in the shape of Italy on his knee. Tell her how Thomas peeps at you with one eye," he whispered.
I followed his lead, and although it could have gone either way, my mother chose to be satisfying, nearly joyful.
"I can't stand the thought of you being alone," my mother said in a nurturing and repentant tone.
"Thank you, Mom. That means so much to me… But I'm not alone. I'm with Ethan," I said, not to be contrary, but because I wanted her to understand Ethan's importance in my life.
Ethan smiled as he repositioned Thomas in his arms and then kissed the top of his fuzzy head.
"Still. There is no substitute for a mother," she said firmly.
"I know, Mom," I said, feeling moved by the truth of her statement.
"So I'll come visit as soon as I can… In early June. As soon as we get through Jeremy and Lauren's wedding."
"Okay, Mom," I said. "That would be really great. Thank you."
"And Darcy?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm so proud of you."
I basked in her words. "Thanks, Mom."
"I love you, honey," she continued, her voice cracking.
"I love you too, Mom. And tell Dad and Jeremy and Lauren I love them. I'm really sorry I won't be able to come to their wedding."
"Jeremy understands," she said. "We all do."
As we said good-bye, I found myself pondering what Thomas and John's birth meant in the larger scheme of things, in the fabric of our family. I had created a new generation. The responsibility of it was awesome. My eyes filled with tears for what felt like the hundredth time since I had arrived at the hospital.
"This postpartum thing is no joke," I said to Ethan as I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my nightgown.
Ethan brought Thomas over to me, and the four of us crowded into bed together. "Is she coming to visit us?" he asked.
The us was not lost on me. I smiled and said, "Yeah. After Jeremy's wedding."
"How do you feel about seeing her?" he asked.
"I can't wait, actually," I said, surprised by how much I wanted to share John and Thomas with her.