"Come on sweetheart, you're almost there. Just a few more pushes and you'll have two perfect babies."
Caleb watched as the nurse coached Hanna through another brutal contraction, supporting her back and dabbing her forehead as she continued pushing. He was grateful for the woman at the foot of the bed, he himself feeling too guilty to offer encouragement, to speak. He heard his wife let out a pained sob as she collapsed into his chest, gripping fistfuls of his black t-shirt. He grabbed her hands and kissed them before allowing her to squeeze them with all her might.
"Alright Hanna, the first baby is crowning. I know you're tired, and I know you're in pain, but I need you to muster up whatever strength you have left, okay? You're doing great."
"She's right, you are," Caleb whispered, thrilled to feel Hanna perk up in his arms.
Twenty-five minutes later, Connor James and Madeleine Ashley Rivers nursed happily at their mother's chest, their tiny fists entwined in strands of her long blonde hair. Hanna, flushed and incredibly sore, beamed brighter than a skylight as Caleb stared at her in awe.
"In case there was ever any doubt, you are officially the strongest person I have ever encountered. I might have to buy you a plaque," Caleb moved to sit closer to his family, bringing a straw to Hanna's lips as she took a much-needed sip of water.
"Can you maybe start with an ice pack? These anti-inflammatories aren't kicking in fast enough. Two eight pound babies and this is all they all they have to spare," Hanna tried to quip, her eyes beginning to water from the lingering pain. Caleb reached over and kissed her forehead, mopping the tears from her cheeks.
"Whatever you want, baby. I'm going to be indebted to you for quite some time."
And I couldn't be happier about it.
"Caleb, you have to go back to work tomorrow, I'll get him," Hanna tried to pull herself up, only to have her shoulders pushed gently back onto the mattress.
"You're still healing," Caleb replied, and Hanna shook her head.
"You'll have to bring him back to me anyways. He's hungry, I can tell from the way he's crying."
"Doesn't mean you have to get out of bed."
As predicted, Hanna had taken to motherhood like a pro, and Caleb couldn't be prouder. Despite dealing with the stress of two newborns and a slow recovery, he was constantly amazed at her love, warmth, and humor. She was the mother he'd always dreamed of having, and it only made him love her more.
Walking to his son's bassinet, Caleb quickly scooped his beautiful boy into his arms, admiring his round, dimpled cheeks. At four weeks old, he seemed to be a bit fussier than his sister, demanding more frequent changings and feeds. Initially, Caleb worried, but Hanna immediately deemed his large appetite a "Marin trait", and that hefty babies slept through the night earlier.
"Come on, Con, let's get you your midnight snack," he kissed the patch of thick blonde hair on his head before handing him to Hanna, offering a pillow so she could rest her tired arms.
"I don't know how I'm going to do this without you during the days," Hanna said.
"I don't know how I'm going to stand being away from you three." Caleb rested his head against Hanna's arm, taking in the moment. While Hanna, being her own boss, wasn't expected to start working again for at least another month, Caleb's paternal leave had quickly run dry. He'd hoped to negotiate another week, but between limited resources and a growing pile of projects, his boss all but laughed him out of the room.
"Thank you for providing for us," Hanna moved to brush her free hand through her husband's short hair, soaking in his comforting smell. He'd been forced to switch soaps early in Hanna's pregnancy, the previous brand triggering her nausea, and he refused to switch back. To her, he smelled of thoughtfulness, empathy. She felt herself beginning to doze off before being startled into consciousness by her daughter's soft cries.
"Don't worry," Caleb whispered, "I've got her. That cry just means a diaper change."
"Madeleine, sweetie, I know this is going to be an adjustment, but I promise I'll be back before you even know it," Hanna rested her four-month-old daughter's head on her shoulder, rubbing her back in an effort to soothe her loud sobs.
Since returning to her fashion line three weeks prior, Hanna thought she'd crafted the perfect setup. Work remotely on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays, go in Wednesday and Friday. Caleb had arranged to telecommute on Fridays while Ted or her mom kept the babies on Wednesdays. Unfortunately for her, her ever-intuitive baby had quickly picked up on the telltale signs of her mommy getting ready to leave the house. To make matters worse, she picked the day that Hanna just so happened to have a meeting with a buyer from American Apparel.
"Caleb, can you take her for a minute, I need to look like an actual professional," she passed the baby to her husband as he walked out of their master suite, clothed in only a pair of slacks.
Hanna went to examine herself in a full-length mirror. Her hair was pulled back into a stylish bun, her side bangs framing her slightly rounder face. She was dressed in an a-line, ¾ sleeve black dress with an asymmetrical V-neck and a belt at the waist. A Hanna Rivers original, Hanna had hoped it would make her feel confident, chic, but instead she felt especially self-conscious about her soft post-partum body. Alison had once told her that she'd felt most beautiful after delivering her now four-year-old Lauren Amabella, but Hanna disagreed with her sentiment as she gripped her spanx-covered midsection.
"You look gorgeous, Han," Caleb said from behind her, a chubby infant in both arms. "American Eagle will have no choice but to say yes."
"It's American Apparel," Hanna corrected. "And you're just saying that because my boobs are ginormous." Hanna refocused on attention to her chest, adjusting the straps on her nursing bra.
"You can't expect me to be focus on anything else while you do that," he moved to place both babies on their freshly made bed before standing behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. He kissed the exposed skin on her collarbone, burying his face into the soft skin.
"You're beautiful, and talented, and amazing," he said. "And I probably don't tell you that enough, but it's true."
"I look fat," she whispered, memories of her overweight adolescence flooding back into her mind. She wanted to change back into her sweatpants and crawl into bed, hide her body from her husband and everyone else.
"No, you look healthy," he wished, not for the first time, that he could take away all the years of ridicule and negative body image perpetuated against her. "I promise you no one will be thinking that, so why should you?" His words wouldn't eviscerate her insecurities, not by a long shot, but he was relieved to see the slightest of a smile form on her lips.
"You need to head out pretty soon," Hanna broke away from his embrace, moving a stray hair back into place, "I don't want you to catch the traffic for dealing with my meltdown," she brushed away a few stray tears, grateful that her make-up didn't smudge. He turns her around, kissing her on the lips.
"You're worth it if I do."
Aside from the workload and the expense, one of the most challenging elements of raising twins was the general tendency to compare them to one another. Hanna and Caleb did their best not to participate in the practice, but were finding it increasingly difficult as their babies continued to learn and develop.
"Come on, Con, crawl to Daddy," Hanna beamed as she set her camera to record, tears in her eyes as her son slowly moved across the living room. Caleb waited with open arms, lifting him above his head and kissing his plump cheek. He giggled in response, delighted by the slight tickle of his daddy's stubble.
Hanna, never one to exclude, used that moment to scoop up her daughter and bring her in on the fun.
"Hey Mads," Caleb cooed, "here to congratulate your big brother? Follow in his knee steps?"
Hanna knew the comment was only one of jest, and perhaps encouragement, but she couldn't help but sigh. At eight-months-old, her son was crawling, babbling, and had even managed to stand himself up against the table. Her precious Madeleine was the opposite; strikingly quiet and only able to lift herself up for a few seconds. Spencer had recently suggested she be taken to an occupational therapist, only backpedaling when she saw her friend's upset.
"Are you worried about Maddie?" Hanna inquired, giving her daughter a gentle squeeze.
"I'm her dad, it's my job to worry. Should I be concerned about something in particular?"
"Just that she isn't crawling, or really even starting to. You know I don't ever want to compare one to the other, but Spencer mentioned—"
"Who gives a shit what Spencer thinks?!" Caleb snapped.
"Language!" Hanna exclaimed back, motioning towards her children.
"I'm sorry," he surrendered, lifting both hands. His anger wasn't directed towards Hanna, or even at Spencer, just the unnecessary angst being perpetuated into the mind of a new, overly cautious mother. The notion that Spencer knew something, or anything, about child development and felt emboldened enough to advise Hanna.
"Madeleine might not be walking or talking like Con, but Connor can't build blocks or classify patterns as well as Madeleine can. He also can't self-soothe, as evidenced by our current sleep patterns."
"So you wouldn't want me to take her to a specialist? Just to be thorough?" Hanna stroked Madeleine's thick blonde waves as she curled herself closer to her mother's side, as if sensing the topic at hand.
"Hi sweetheart," she murmured.
"The kids have their well baby checkup next month. If the pediatrician says something, then we'll worry. But I'm not letting you lose your mind over something over something your busybody friend said. Not now, not ever."
"I never thought in any conceivable universe I'd be asked to design a men's line, but here we are," Hanna beamed as she walked into the foyer, Spencer on her heels. Now four months pregnant, Hanna was especially mindful of her friend, holding her arm as she stepped over the slight elevation into the house. Her attention was stalled, however, when she saw the floppy eared dog chewing on her welcome rug, her son laying on top of him.
"Caleb, why the hell is there a dog in my house?" She called, power walking into the living room. She entered to find Caleb and Toby, clad in only a t-shirt and sweatpants, playing Grand Theft Auto. To their side was Madeleine, quietly scribbling in a Disney-themed coloring book.
"Are you two seriously hanging out in your underwear? I know you're like brothers but I thought there were still some boundaries," Spencer said, looking at her husband in confusion.
"Last I checked, you wanted Hanna to be in the delivery room when you push our kid out," Toby retorted, provoking an uncharacteristic concession from his wife.
"Forget what they're wearing, where the hell did the dog come from?" Hanna exclaimed, motioning towards the mild-mannered beagle. Sensing her curiousity, the dog walked over to introduce himself, brushing his head against her leg.
"There was a giant puppy mill bust near Brookhaven," Toby explained. "Most of the puppies have homes lined up, but Linus is a bit of a different story."
"Why?" Hanna asked, picking him up.
"He was in the process of being sold to a laboratory when we found him. We think he's about four-years-old, so he's been in there a while. He's super shy and deaf in one ear, so we're not quite sure how to best serve his needs."
"And you thought a house with two rambunctious eleven-month-olds might be a fit for this little gentleman?" Hanna sighed, looking into the dog's dark eyes. She already felt herself growing attached to the dog, much to her chagrin, but questioned her ability to suit his needs.
"Han, I know we weren't planning on getting a dog until the twins were older, but this isn't like having a puppy. He's calm, he's gentle, and he's pretty much housebroken, and I think he'll really enjoy having the kids to play with," Caleb said.
"Linus!" Madeleine exclaimed, turning all four adult's attention towards her. Her blue eyes shined in excitement, while Hanna's shone with unshed tears.
"Damn it, now I have to say yes," Hanna lamented, laughing when the dog moved to lick the moisture off her cheek.
"Maddie, Connor, is it your birthday today? Are you gonna eat lots of chocolate?" Ashley Marin adjusted the party hats on her grandchildren's heads, relieved her cooing had kept them happy and distracted. She looked at her watch, noting the two-hour timeframe before the party was set to begin. While not previously a cause for concern, possible revelations could prove the plan disastrous.
"Hanna? Caleb? How are the decorations coming?" Ashley walked into her daughter's spacious living room to find Hanna curled up on the couch, crying. Caleb was on the phone, his face tense as he listened to a stern voice on the other line.
"Baby, what's wrong? Who is Caleb talking to?" She took a seat next to Hanna, rubbing her knee.
"The doctor," she answered, curt.
"What happened? Did you find a lump or—" Ashley trailed off, unable to complete the thought. Hanna shook her head.
"No, nothing like that. I just realized today that I'm late and I'm nauseous and my boobs are sore. I mean, they're always sore from breastfeeding but they seem worse," Hanna choked out, overwhelmed.
"Well then why are you crying? Just recently you told me that you wanted more kids."
"Not right now," she sobbed. "It takes every ounce of energy I have to take care of the twins, plus the fact that we're about to open a second location, I just don't know what to do," she placed her head on her mother's shoulder, grateful when her mother began to stroke her hair. It was something she often did for her own babies, and she found herself beginning to calm down."
"Han," Caleb said, sitting on the opposite side of Ashley. "I talked to urgent care and they said they could do a blood test this afternoon. Do you think that's something you're up for?" Hanna looked at him, apprehensive, wordlessly opening and closing her mouth.
"Go honey, I'll take care of the kids and the party," she ushered the two of them to the door, letting out a deep breath when they were finally out of sight.
Ashley was putting the final touches on the elaborate cupcakes when she heard the front door open. She peeked her head out, noting the neutral expression on both Hanna and Caleb's faces.
"Hey guys," she smiled, hoping to break the ice.
"They didn't tell us your chances quadruple after the first set," Caleb mumbled, staring at nothing in particular.
"What?" Ashley asked, desperate for clarification.
"We're not over 35, we don't have a family history, we've never taken any sort of fertility drugs," he continued.
"I take it I'm about to be a grandmother of three." Hanna lifted her head at that, looking straight into her mother's eyes.
"No, mom, you're about to be a grandmother of four."