15 FEBRUARY 2001
BETHESDA NAVAL MEDICAL CENTER
BETHESDA, MARYLAND
Sarah's asleep, so I slip away to visit the nursery, marveling as I have for the last twenty hours over the two perfect little creatures that we've brought into this world. My daughter's asleep, but Matt is wide awake, his eyes darting around as if he's trying to take everything in. After checking my armband and giving me a gown to put over my clothes, the nurse on duty lets me into the nursery to hold him.
As she warms up a bottle – Sarah had pumped some milk earlier today, both so that I could participate in feedings and due to the occasional logistical issues of feeding two, as she found out last night – I cradle my little boy in my arms, memorizing his tiny features.
The nurse returns, holding the prepared bottle out to me. As I take it, she says, "Sir, there are a couple of people here to see the babies. They say that they're your parents."
I look up, seeing Mom and Dad standing outside the window to the nursery. I recognize the look in their eyes. It's the same one that Sarah and I have had for the last twenty hours, marveling that our children are finally here. I turn back to the nurse, nodding. "Yes, they are," I confirm. "Is it okay for them to come in here?"
"Of course, Sir," she says. "We can give them armbands like yours so that everyone knows that they're authorized access. If you're okay here, I can go help them get suited up."
"We're fine, Lieutenant," I say. "Thank you." I may not have spent much time around babies in my life, outside of my godchildren, but my son and I are good right now.
After a few minutes, Mom and Dad join me, and I can tell they're just itching to hold their grandchildren. "I'm glad the weather finally let up enough for you to make it to the hospital," I tell them, shifting slightly in the rocker so that they can get a better look at Matt. "At least you didn't try to make it yesterday in that weather."
"It was hard not to," Dad admits. "We wanted to see the babies so much."
"I can't believe that they're finally here," Mom says in wonder as she lifts a tiny hand, letting his fingers curl around one of hers.
"I know," I say, remembering Sarah's complaints the last few weeks about her pregnancy dragging on, especially since everyone had warned her that twins *always* come early. It's hard to consider six days as early. "I was beginning to think that they were never going to get here either. I'm sorry that Sarah's asleep," I continue, nodding towards the other crib, "but how would you like to hold your grandson, Mom?"
"Of course I would," Mom says with tears in her eyes.
Carefully, I get up from the chair and let Mom sit down. I hand her Matt, starting to direct her on how to hold him, before breaking off with a self-conscious grin as I realize what I'm doing. "I know that you've done this before," I say sheepishly.
"Once or twice, even if it has been a long time," she jokes. She looks down at the baby in her arms, sighing. "He looks so much like you did when you were a baby."
"That's what Gram said," I tell her, brushing a finger against Matt's cheek as he sucks contentedly on the bottle Mom is holding for him. "But God help us all if he ends up with my personality."
"Oh, you weren't that bad," Mom protests with a smile. We all know better than that, but I simply nod.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice movement in the other crib as Sarah stretches her arms, her eyes fluttering open. Carefully, I lift her out of the crib, holding her against my chest. "Dad, would you like to hold your granddaughter?" I ask.
"Of course," he replies. "Unlike your mother, I haven't really been around babies much, so you can direct me all you want." Laughing, I instruct him how to hold his arms so that he's supporting her entire body, especially her head. I nod towards the nurse and she leaves to prepare another bottle. "She's got your eyes, too."
"Yeah," I reply. "I was kind of hoping, once I saw that she matches her mother's skin tone, that she'd have her eyes as well."
"It's an interesting combination," Mom says, leaning over to take a closer look. "I bet she's going to attract her share of the guys when she gets older. She is going to be gorgeous with that dark skin and those light eyes."
"Oh, no, no, no," I protest, shaking my head. "She's twenty hours and something minutes old. I don't want to think about boys in her life until she's at least forty."
Mom laughs. "Welcome to parenthood, Harm. Now you know how I felt when you started showing an interest in the opposite sex," she says. "You were still my little boy."
"Mom, I was fifteen," I remind her, remembering, as I'm sure that she is, when I got caught making out with Sally Webber, who lived down the street from us. It had been one of the most mortifying experiences of my life.
"Harm, you're going to find that there are two rules now that you're a parent," she says.
"And those would be?" I ask in a serious tone.
"First, they will *always* be your babies," she says. As I open my mouth to protest, she adds, "Yes, no matter how old they get, even when they're thirty-seven and have children of their own. You'll always remember how tiny they were, how you held them in your arms like this. Harm, you will always be my little boy, no matter what."
"Sure, Mom," I say, humoring her. "And the other?"
As Matt finishes his bottle, she sets it aside and holds her hand out to me. "You'll never cease to be amazed at what you're willing to do to protect your children," she says, squeezing my hand.
10 MAY 2009
MCLEAN, VIRGINIA
"Happy Mother's Day, Mommy," the kids shout as we enter the bedroom. I'm carrying the breakfast tray, Matt carries the wrapped collage that we put together, while Sarah and Elizabeth both carry smaller gifts from each of the kids and from me.
Matt sets his package on the bed and then clambers up, giving his mother an enthusiastic hug. Sarah follows him up, nearly pushing her twin out of the way so that she can greet her mother as well. Shooting the twins a warning glance, as Matt looks on the verge of pushing back, I set the tray down in front of my wife before lifting Elizabeth up onto the bed to join the others.
The kitchen managed to escape without too much damage. Matt dropped an egg on the floor when getting them out of the fridge, while Sarah spilled flour on the counter while helping make the batter for the pancakes. Elizabeth was the only one who didn't participate in making a mess, but only because she's too small to reach anything that she might have made a mess with.
"This looks wonderful," Sarah says, acting surprised, just as I knew she would. She smiles in delight at each of the kids in turn. "Did all of you help make this?"
All three kids nod. "Matt helped make the omelet," I explain, "while Sarah helped with the pancakes."
"Daddy showed me how to make the pancakes into dinosaur shapes like he always does," she pipes in. "We knew you'd like that."
"Of course I do," Sarah replies, kissing our older daughter's cheek. "And the omelet looks very good, too, Matt." She kisses him as well. He mutters a little, but doesn't pull away.
"I make toast," Elizabeth interjects.
Sarah takes her into her arms, squeezing her tight. "I'm sure I'll love the toast, too," she says. "It's a good thing that there's so much food here, because I'm very hungry." She looks over the kids' heads to wink at me. The hunger isn't a surprise under normal circumstances, as she still has a very healthy appetite, but she has even more of a reason to be so now, as she informed me last night when we started picking up where we'd left off in the dining room earlier.
"So what about you guys?" she asks, cutting off a piece of pancake with her fork and swirling it around in syrup. "Aren't you going to eat?"
"We ate before we fixed your breakfast," Matt explains. "Daddy said it would be hard for all of us to eat breakfast on the bed."
"I guess that's true," she replies with a smile.
We sit in companionable silence as Sarah finishes her breakfast. She seems to really enjoy what we made for her. Unlike that long ago morning when Dad and I surprised Mom with breakfast in bed, we didn't have the blind leading the blind in the kitchen. I've started teaching the twins how to cook, so they managed to do a decent job with my supervision.
After she's finished, I set the tray on the dresser, and then sit back down on the edge of the bed. "Time for presents," the twins squeal, to laughter from their mother and me.
"So which one should I open first?" Sarah asks, smiling at their enthusiasm. It's wonderful to see the kids taking as much pleasure in giving their mother presents as they usually do in receiving gifts.
"Daddy?" Matt asks, glancing at me. Earlier, after a relatively mild debate about whose present would be opened first, I'd declared that I would make the decision on order.
"How about the big one first?" I suggest, handing her the collage. As she rips off the paper, I explain, "This is from all three of the kids."
"It's wonderful," Sarah exclaims as she tears the last of the paper away, her eyes darting from picture to picture. "These are some of my favorite pictures."
"We all painted our names on the mat," our older daughter explains. She shoots a glance at Matt as she continues, "Daddy helped Elizabeth, and he helped us decide which pictures to include."
"I think that I want to hang this in the foyer," Sarah says, setting the collage aside and wrapping her arms around the twins. Elizabeth climbs into her lap, draping her arms around her mother's neck. "That way everyone can see it when they come into the house. Now, what's next?"
I hand her a large envelope. "This one is from Elizabeth," I say.
She pulls out a single sheet of paper, smiling. Elizabeth and I had borrowed her sister's crayons and I'd helped her draw a picture, a rough drawing of a dinosaur colored in blue. "Daddy called it stega…." She looks up at me for assistance.
"A stegosaurus," I supply.
"I love it," Sarah insists, "and blue is one of my favorite colors. Thank you, Elizabeth." She kisses our daughter's forehead.
"Matt, why don't you give Mommy your present?" I suggest.
"I love this," she says after she tears the paper off a coffee table book about dinosaur tracks. "It goes nicely with your sister's present." She takes Elizabeth's present and sticks it inside the front cover of the book to protect it.
"Thank you, Mommy," Matt says, clearly pleased. Sarah has passed on her love of dinosaurs to our kids, and when Matt had seen the book in Barnes and Noble, he'd first wanted the book for himself. When we'd been trying to think of individual presents from each of the kids for Mother's Day, he changed his mind on his own and asked me to help him buy it for his mother.
"It's time for my present now," Sarah says, handing her mother a square box. My wife opens the lid and pulls out a coffee mug, with 'World's Best Mommy' painted on the side. "I made it in Brownies."
"I need a new coffee mug at work. Did Daddy tell you how mine met with an unfortunate accident?"
Sarah nods, giggling. "He said the handle broke off," she says, "but I'd already made the mug the week before."
"Then I'd say your timing was perfect. I love it."
"There's one more present for you," I say. "Elizabeth, give Mommy the other box."
"Here, Mommy," Elizabeth says, handing over the smallest of the presents, a small, black jewelry box with a red ribbon tied around it. This is my present to her, although I'd shown it to the twins a few days ago, explained the meaning behind it and got their enthusiastic approval.
Sarah pulls off the ribbon and snaps open the box, fingering the necklace inside, a white gold heart hanging from a chain, birthstones for all five of us forming the bottom of the heart. Elizabeth's birthstone forms the point, the twins' are above that on either side, and then mine and Sarah's above that, Sarah's on the left and mine on the right. Of course, I hadn't realized when I'd ordered it that it will be out of date by the end of the year.
"Pretty," Elizabeth says.
"Very," Sarah says, taking the necklace out of the box and holding it out to me. "Harm, will you help me put it on?"
I move over to sit on the edge of the bed next to her. Sarah turns slightly away from me, holding her long hair up with her hands. I fasten the necklace, and then drop a kiss onto the back of her neck. "I'll have to talk to the jeweler and find out how hard it will be to add another stone," I whisper.
"Do you want to do the honors?" she whispers back, inclining her head towards the kids.
I nod, resting my hands on her shoulders. "Kids, last night, Mommy told me something that we need to tell you," I begin. Sarah crosses one arm over her chest to cover one of my hands with hers, wrapping her fingers around mine. "Around Christmas, Mommy's going to have a baby."
"Baby?" Elizabeth asks, uncertain.
"You're going to have a younger brother or sister," I explain to her. She looks up at me, confused. Okay, explaining this to her is going to take some more thought. Sarah and I will have to think about that one. The twins kind of understood when we told them about Elizabeth, although they had been expecting a sibling they could play with right then.
The twins understand now without explanations. They remember when their mother was pregnant with Elizabeth, when Bud and Harriet had their last three, including their own set of twins, and when Carolyn gave birth to her and Jack's second daughter four months after Elizabeth was born. "I want a brother this time," Matt says emphatically.
"Sorry, but Daddy and I have no control over that," Sarah says, laughing. We had this argument with him the last time as well. "We will be happy with whatever God gives us. Hopefully, he'll send us a healthy, happy baby." Her fingers tighten around mine. Her pregnancies have always been problem free, but she will be forty-two in two months. Of course, she was just a few weeks short of her thirty-ninth birthday when Elizabeth was born. Just like before, I'm sure that everything will be fine.
Author's note: Although it wasn't intentional, I realized after I wrote this part that the baby is due around the 40th anniversary of Harm Sr's being shot down in Vietnam.
