August 10th, 2009 - Week 41
Sam's POV
My fingers were aching as I licked, sealed and stamped the last envelope of birth announcements. Slipping it into the pile, I picked up an extra announcement and read it.
"Introducing the newest members of the Uley family: Violet Jennifer Uley, born on July 24th, 2009, at 1:13am, 5 lbs 7 oz, 17'' and Hannah Rose Uley, born on July 24th, at 12:41 am, 6 lbs, 1 oz, 17.5"." The words were written over a picture of the girls, taken just a few days ago. Hannah had the cutest expression on her face, confusion and wonder, and Violet was simply looking into the lens inquisitively.
I remembered the long conversations leading up to the choosing of their names, after we had sent home our mothers and sat up all night with our new daughters. Emily had been dead set on the flowers, Violet and Rose. She said they were perfect, purple and pink – complementary but not the same. I liked the idea, and trusted Emily, so I agreed…on the condition that we make one flower a middle name instead of having both of them as first names. When Em asked what I had in mind for first names, I hesitated. We had never discussed naming them after people in the family and neither Emily nor I had a tradition of family names, but she loved the idea of naming them for our mothers. She said it would be like giving them built-in role models.
After that, it wasn't hard to decide which order the names should go in and who should get which one. Jennifer Rose and Violet Hannah just didn't sound right; we both agreed on that right away. The origin of the word violet is French and little baby #2, with her contented smile and plump pink lips, was somehow sophisticated at only a few hours old. We hastily wrote Violet Jennifer Uley in the blank on the birth certificate. Then there was tiny Hannah Rose, with eager grasping hands and a toothless semi-smile. The names simply fell into place when we looked down at them in our arms.
Emily appeared in the doorframe of the nursery and pulled me from my memories. "Sam!" she hissed, holding a suckling Hannah against her chest and a drooping Violet on her hip. "Help, please."
I bounded out of my chair and plucked Violet from Emily's arms. "Sorry, Em, I was finishing up with the announcements."
"That's fine," Emily assured me, "it's just that Vi's almost asleep and Hannah will be soon, and I really could use a shower. Could you put her down for me?"
I had already begun to walk slowly around the room, rubbing Vi's back and humming low in her ear. "I got this one. Don't worry." Emily sighed in relief and went back to the nursery to sit in the rocking chair and nurse. As I walked Violet to sleep, I gazed through the door at Emily breastfeeding.
Hannah, or baby #1 as she was then, had latched on quickly and with little problems. Her first feeding session, however, had been cut short by Violet's arrival. Emily was excited to tandem breastfeed right away, and was heartbroken when she didn't have enough milk to nurse both of our girls. Fortunately, Sara was still there, and she worked with Em. She told her to stay in bed for three days, recovering and simply feeding whenever the girls were hungry.
At first thought, I was scared out of my mind. I was going to have to do everything for three days? Not that I wouldn't have done it – I would do anything for Em and the girls – but it was overwhelming.
It turned out to be much better than that. Em took care of anything related to baby care (changing, feeding and bathing) while I took care of the house and supported her. After three days in bed with Hannah and Violet, Emily was tandem feeding and pumping milk to spare. Her nipples were often sore, and I eagerly obliged with lanolin cream, soft massages, and cold packs when she was engorged.
Violet began to softly snore in my ear, making me grin. I cradled her in my arm and slipped into the nursery, placing her gently into her crib in the nursery, where Emily was struggling to get Hannah off to sleep. I reached out. "I'll take her. Go shower, or sleep."
Emily handed Hannah off to me gratefully and I kissed her cheek as she walked past. Sitting in the rocking chair, I looked down at Hannah, who was gurgling happily. "Go to sleep, Hannah Banana," I whispered. "Look," I hoisted her up over my shoulder so that she could see into Violet's crib, "your sister is beating you."
I put her head down on my shoulder and her thumb went into her mouth right away. "That's it!" I encouraged and began to rock back and forth.
It was a little harder to tell when Hannah had gone to sleep, as she didn't snore like Violet did. Twice I stopped rocking and Hannah looked at me, as if to say "Why'd you stop?"
Finally, after I heard the water from Emily's shower turn off, I lifted Hannah to find that she was fast asleep. Smiling, I lowered her into a crib, grabbed the baby monitors and dimmed the lights on the way out.
Emily was lying on the bed, one arm thrown over her eyes, hair wet and leaving spots on the blanket. The bed squeaked when I sat down next to her.
"How are you feeling?"
Emily hummed as she sat up. "Less inadequate than yesterday," she muttered, trying to sound disinterested but really just hiding her admission.
I reached out and grabbed both of her shoulders. "I swear to god, Emily, the next time you say that, I'm giving the girls to your mother and flying you to the Caribbean."
She cracked a smile. "Sorry."
"You should be," I insisted, "this is perfectly normal and you are not inadequate. You are the best mother I've ever seen."
Emily rolled her eyes.
A week after the girls were born, Emily revealed that she had been feeling inadequate and ashamed, had been excessively tired and felt like she wasn't bonding well with the girls. Sara had told me what to look out for in PPD, or postpartum depression, and I buckled Em in the car and took her to the birth center.
It turned out that it wasn't PPD; just a case of the baby blues. Sara assured us that it was normal, especially for parents of twins who weren't getting nearly enough sleep. It was caused partially by sleep deprivation and mostly by the drop in Emily's hormone levels after delivery. She told us that 80% of women experience it, and it was nothing to be worried about. However, I was under strict instructions to do my best in supporting Emily and ensuring that she knew what a wonderful mother she was. I took my job seriously.
I propped Em up against my back and grabbed a brush off the table. Keeping her nestled in my arms, I gently pulled the brush through her thick, dark hair, working it into a braid. When the braid had been twisted up and knotted in place, I pressed a kiss below her ear. "Love you."
"Love you, too." She twisted around to press herself into my chest. "Thanks."
"No problem," I pulled her down onto the bed, wrapped in my arms. "Let's get some sleep ourselves, shall we?"
Emily grabbed the baby monitors, turned them up and placed them on the pillow, next to my ear. I had the better hearing, so it was my job to wake with the girls. After she was sure that they were loud enough, she curled into my side and closed her eyes. With Emily asleep within minutes, I spent a while just watching her.
She was everything in my world, and she was perfect. I let a finger trail down her scar, and shuddered. When I finally fell asleep, my hand was on Emily's face and there was a strange pricking at the corners of my eyes.
#
Carlisle stopped by early the next morning, as Emily was finishing up feeding the girls. He offered his hand for me to shake as he stepped inside. "I don't believe that I have congratulated you yet, Sam."
"Thanks, Carlisle." I grinned, shaking his hand and leading him back to the nursery, where Em was lounging in the rocking chair, the pillow on her lap supporting both Hannah and Violet and a blanket draped over each shoulder, protecting her modesty.
"Good morning Emily," he greeted her, gently touching the top of her head. Somewhere inside of me, the wolf growled, but I forced him back, certain that there couldn't be a better pediatrician for my girls.
"Morning," Emily replied, and attempted to pull Hannah off of her chest.
Carlisle quickly interrupted her. "Don't stop on my account. There's plenty I can do while they're eating."
Emily relaxed, and I leaned against the wall behind the rocking chair. Carlisle asked us questions about everything – their "schedules", sleeping patterns, growth, appetites, feeding positions – and when Violet finally gave up on Em's nipple, I took her and handed her gently over.
Carlisle had put on a pair of gloves as to not startle the girls with his cold hands, and Violet took to him right away. Gooing happily, she kicked around on the changing table. He weighed her in a scale he had brought, and pronounced that she was putting on plenty of weight and there was nothing to be worried about.
Hannah was a little more skeptical of the pale doctor, and she stuck her thumb in her mouth as soon as he picked her up. She hadn't gained as much weight as her sister, but Carlisle said not to worry, as she had started off bigger in the first place. Emily visibly relaxed as she saw proof that she was doing well, and her babies were healthy.
"When can I take them outside?" she asked eagerly.
The doctor flipped open his tiny silver cell phone, capturing the girls' attention, and listened to someone intently. "Thank you, Alice," he replied and hung up. Turning to Emily and I, he said, "Alice tells me that it will be very warm and sunny tomorrow. I can't see why you shouldn't have a picnic."
Emily beamed, delighted. She had been looking forward to taking the girls for walks and sitting on the lawn outside, but was worried about what the damp weather would do to such new lungs.
Carlisle shook both of our hands, "Keep doing what you're doing and these will be very healthy, happy babies," and he slipped out the front door.
Emily threw her arms around my neck, pulling me down to kiss me in celebration. "They're healthy," she whispered into my mouth.
"Thank god," I returned, and then pulled her mouth to mine again.
#
Even when we got the word that the girls we healthy, Em wouldn't let anyone near her babies. Sue Clearwater came over, and Emily waved from inside the nursery; She invited Leah over, but clutched the girls close to her sides; Quil brought his mother and Claire, but Em made them stay in the living room; Kim and Jared came but Emily insisted that the girls needed to sleep. I did my best to explain to everyone that the girls had been born a little early, and that they were very small, and Emily was just worried for their safety.
All of the mothers understood, smiling and laughing, nodding at me and telling stories from when they were new mothers and worried for their own children. Leah and Kim, however, were a tad upset about the denial of visitation rights. Claire also stamped her feet impatiently, until Quil flashed me a grin and led her away with the promise of ice cream.
And with all the guests came more and more presents. Apparently, shopping for babies – especially twin baby girls – was very entertaining. Emily and I got more clothes than we ever thought possible, in a wide range of sizes because everyone assured us that they would grow out of their clothing insanely fast. Alongside the clothes came blankets, stuffed animals, books, toys and a few pair of the smallest shoes ever known to man.
Emily fawned over every onesie, every pair of socks, and every doll. She put some of it in the nursery right away (the two silver rattles from Kim went on the shelves above their cribs), and kept most of it in boxes in their closet, for later, when they were a bit older. It was my job, instead, to write the countless thank you's and sign Emily's signature at the bottom next to my own. I really didn't mind; in fact I enjoyed it, because it meant that Emily was free to spend more time with the girls, doing whatever she wanted and whatever they needed.
#
When the girls woke me up, via baby monitor, in the middle of a thursday night, I decided not to wake up Em for the first time. They had just eaten two hours ago, so they weren't hungry and more than likely, they just needed their diapers changed. So, keeping my eyes on Em as to not wake her up, I slid out of bed and padded down the hall to the nursery.
Flipping on the dimmed lights, I greeted them. "Hello, my darlings. How are you?"
They both whimpered and squirmed their replies.
"Who's first?" I glanced over at Vi, who had her face scrunched up in a wail. I leaned over and scooped her into my arms. "Good morning, Violet, don't you think you're a little early?" I teased.
I also picked up Hannah, tucking her into my other arm. "You too, Hannah. It's early, and mommy is still sleeping."
I attempted to fold my large frame into the rocking chair, but that just wasn't working, so after a quick diaper change, we settled into the living room couch. I laid on my back, and both of them wriggled on my stomach. Every once in a while, I would make eye contact with one of them, and they would grin and gurgle.
It was as I noted the way I could see myself in their features that it hit me.
For years, I had waited for confirmation that I wasn't a monster – that I still had good behind the claws of a creature who would maul his beloved. After years of waiting for an absolution, I had found it in the best way possible. My little girls, who were at least half mine, were entirely good. They were angels – and I had to have good in me to have given it to them. By calling myself a monster, I was degrading them and I couldn't allow that to happen.
As I pressed warm, gentle kisses to their drooping eyelids I heard the quiet shuffling of Emily's slippers on the carpet. I looked up to see her moving to stand over the back of the couch.
"mmmhnn…" she groaned, as she leaned over to press a kiss to my lips and the tops of the girl's heads. "Hey."
"Morning, baby," I whispered.
"You didn't wake me up," she complained – half-heartedly.
I assured her that I could handle a little diaper changing on my own, and I moved over on the couch to allow her to sit down as well. I handed over Hannah, and we sat together on the couch, all four of us, until the girls had snuggled into the corners of our arms and fallen asleep. Emily looked at our daughters, and then leaned to put her head on my shoulder.
"I love you, Sam," she sighed, sleepy and contented. Em began to hum a quiet lullaby under her breath, tracing a finger over Hannah's round belly.
I watched the reflection of our little family in the dark windows, in awe of my blessings. "Love you, too," I responded.
fin
I want to thank all of you who are still reading for being so INCREDIBLY understanding through all of my unannounced breaks and needed personal time. I will be posting an future-take, and that will be it. If you enjoyed this story, please leave me a review and check out my other stories and one-shots.