May 14, 1998 —

Yesterday, I had my thirty-five week appointment with Dr. Lowry. James wasn't able to join—he's been so busy with work lately. Dr. L was very happy with my progress and said both girls were doing perfectly. I had grown a lot in my third trimester, and it was becoming very difficult for me to get around. I agreed to go on maternity leave beginning next week.

One month from today is my official due date. Honestly, I never believed I would make it this far, especially when the nausea and achiness never subsided. I am more anxious than ever to deliver these two baby girls, and I am totally useless at work right now. I suppose this is what they call "pregnancy brain."

Nigel will be covering for me while I'm out, and he's already stepping in for me. I probably don't need to go into the office today or tomorrow, but perhaps reminding everyone just how enormous I am will remind them that I really do need to stay home and rest.

My back has been very sore this morning—more so than usual. James stayed overnight in Philadelphia, and I spent most of the night tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable. It's embarrassing how unable I am to sleep alone these days. It doesn't help that James' job has been taking him away more often. I can't complain, because I often have to travel or work late hours, but as long as I end up in his arms at the end of the day, it doesn't matter.

I hope he is able to take some time off once the girls are born. I know I will need help with two babies.

Around 9:30 AM, Miranda arrived at the office, walking very slowly and constantly moving and twisting in attempts to relieve the severe pain in her lower back.

"Miranda, can I get you some tea or water?" Tiffany asked.

"Nothing right now," she said, walking into her office and heading straight for the couch. She plopped onto the couch with a grunt, then turned to her side, then crawled off the couch. "Actually Tiffany, is Nigel here?"

"Yes, Miranda. I'll send him in right away."

A few minutes later, the Art Director came in and froze when he saw the Editor. "Whoa, are you okay?"

"I don't know. My back is really sore, and if I can just—if you can maybe rub it right here—?"

Nigel led Miranda to the couch, where she kneeled and leaned against the back of the couch. "How's this?" he asked, rubbing her lower back.

"Harder, please," she said.

Nigel complied, reluctantly. "Miranda, are you sure you wouldn't be more comfortable at home in bed?" He couldn't help but notice how flushed she was, and her skin was burning up beneath his fingers.

"James isn't back until tonight. I can't sleep. Keep doing that."

Nigel took a deep breath. "Is it just your back? How's everything else? How did your doctor appointment go yesterday?"

"Fine. I'm apparently measuring at well past 40 weeks, and that the girls are each almost six pounds. Dr. Lowry said she thinks I'll deliver early, but she's sure that the babies will be fine anytime between now and June 14th. Ohhh!" she gasped.

"What is it?" Nigel asked. He was rubbing her back hard, but not that hard.

"It's just another cramp," she said.

"Another? Have you had many?" Nigel asked.

She pushed herself up and sat back on the couch. "Just a few this morning and yesterday." She looked up and met Nigel's eyes. "No…you don't think…"

"I know literally nothing about pregnancy, except what I may have read in Parents magazine."

At that, Miranda shot him a look with a raised eyebrow.

"When your best friend is pregnant and as a gay man you have no other females in your life, you do some research," he said with a shrug. "Do you want to call your doctor, maybe?"

Miranda shook her head and glanced over at the clock. "I'll stay here for a while, and try to time these cramps to see if they're regular or becoming more frequent."

Nigel grinned and sat next to her. "My god, do you know how excited I am? You'd think it were my kids in there," he said, placing his hands on her belly.

Miranda covered his hands and held them in place. "I hope you know that both James and I want you to be a part of their lives. You were raised Catholic, right?"

"Yes, why?"

"Well, James wants the babies baptized, and we were hoping that you and his sister would be their godparents," she said.

"I would love to. Oh gosh, that's incredible."

"Don't say anything—we wanted to wait until they were born to officially ask, but, you know, I can't keep a secret," she said with a laugh. "Ooh!"

"Another cramp?" Nigel asked, glancing at the clock.

Miranda nodded as she carefully breathed in and out, her eyes closed tight. After about thirty seconds, she opened her eyes and softened into the couch. "How long since the last one?" she asked.

"Um, seven minutes. Miranda, how many 'cramps' did you have this morning before you came in—like five or fifty?"

"Somewhere in the middle. Twenty, maybe."

"Miranda!"

"Nigel! Don't shout at me," she said. "I'm a pregnant woman having contractions."

"Well, at least you're not in denial," he said. "I read that you're supposed to drink a lot of water and have a good meal now, since labor can be exhausting."

"Are you sure you don't have a weekly subscription to Parents?" Miranda said, rolling her eyes. "Fine. I'll do a steak, and that garlicky spinach pasta thing."

"Okay, I'm going to have Tiffany order that, then I'll take care of a few work things and be back," he said.

"I'm not helpless, Nige, but thank you."

Once Nigel left the room, Tiffany brought in a glass of water and a pitcher and set it on the table without a word. Miranda drank a full glass, then walked over to her desk and sat down to call James.

"Priestly."

"Priestly, it's Priestly," she said.

She heard a few muffled words before he came back on the phone. "Sorry, just finishing up breakfast with our client. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"James, I think I'm in labor."

"What?! I—but—it's a month early!"

"I know. Look, I saw Dr. Lowry yesterday and she said the babies were fine. She anticipated that I would go into labor early just because of how big I already am, and, well, I couldn't get comfortable last night. This morning, I woke with some cramping and lower back pain, and it's just been getting a little more frequent."

"Are you by yourself?"

"No, I'm at the office. Nigel is here, along with about 500 other people."

"I'm going to leave right away. I'll be there in a few hours."

"Okay. And James, it's not urgent—I think it will be twelve hours or more before the babies are born—but I just want you here with me. Nigel is amazingly helpful, but he's not you."

"Sweetheart, I will be there as soon as I can. I'll plan to come by the house unless I hear otherwise."

"No—I'm probably not going home. Not alone, anyway."

"Okay, I will see you soon. Honey, we're going to be parents very soon. I love you."

"I know. Love you, too."

She hung up the phone and felt another contraction coming on. This time, she glanced at the clock and jotted down when it started and ended.

Nearly an hour later, Nigel brought her lunch in and saw that the woman had recorded seven contractions since he was gone. He was getting nervous, so he stepped outside and asked Tiffany to have a car ready if needed.

They ate lunch, and at one point, Miranda had to get up and walk around because the contraction took her breath away.

"Sweetie, your contractions are about 5 minutes apart, and they're lasting like 45 seconds. I think we should call your doctor and see what she has to say," Nigel said as he continued to rub her back.

"Okay."

Nigel's eyes widened. For Miranda to agree to call the doctor—she must have been very uncomfortable, more so than she was letting on. Nigel took the cordless phone from Miranda's desk and called Dr. Lowry's office, explaining the situation to the nurse. She explained that she would be putting a page into Dr. Lowry to call him back immediately, but that if Miranda's water broke or if she started bleeding, to bring her to the emergency room right away.

"Sweetie, she's going to page the doctor and have her call us back. Why don't you use the bathroom and just double-check that you're not bleeding and that your water didn't break."

Miranda nodded as he helped her from the couch. Once she was situated in the bathroom, Nigel pulled the door shut and stood outside.

"What time did you say James would be here?" When she didn't respond, he grew concerned. "Miranda? Are you okay?"

"Ohhh! Yes, just…whoo, that one was really bad."

Nigel helped her to the couch, where he again gave her some water and encouraged her to rest. No matter what position she was in, the pain was the same, so she opted to curl up on her side and try to close her eyes.

Dr. Lowry called back and urged Nigel to have Miranda get some sleep. There was nothing they could do for her at the hospital right now unless her water broke or her contractions became more severe. She did mention that at Miranda's exam yesterday, Twin B was turned horizontally. She did what she could to try and guide the baby into place, and that could possibly explain the mild contractions Miranda was feeling. Nigel tried to explain to the doctor that Miranda's contractions were hardly mild, but as a doctor who sees a lot of false labors, he understood where she was coming from. He promised to call her directly if Miranda's condition worsened.

Miranda had fallen into a fitful sleep on the couch in her office, but at least she was resting. She laid there for several hours, asleep, until James arrived. Nigel glanced at the clock—it was nearly 3:30 PM, and he silently wondered what had taken him so long.

When James approached, Nigel explained what the doctor said, and James said he was going to take her home where she could rest properly.

Nigel was a bit miffed at that, but he agreed she would be able to rest better in her own house, in her own bed. At least here at the office, he could be with her. If James took her home, he knew he wouldn't see her again until the babies were born.

James leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek as he tucked her hair behind her ear.

She blinked a few times before seeing James and smiling.

"Honey, I'm here now. I talked to Nigel, and I want to take you home so you can rest properly. How are you doing?" he asked, his hand traveling down to her belly.

She took a deep breath and stilled her movement for a while. "I—I think I'm okay. The tightness is gone."

"Nigel mentioned it could have been just some mild contractions after the doctor's exam yesterday?"

"Oh, uh, no. I mean, he didn't tell me that. But he talked to Dr. Lowry, so I guess," she said. "Help me up—I have to go to the bathroom," she said.

James helped her off the couch and to the bathroom. When she was finished, she walked over to the windows and did some stretches, reaching her arms over her head, twisting and turning, then reaching forward for the arm of the couch.

"I'm stiff from sleeping for a few hours, but I feel good, strangely. I mean, I haven't felt like this in months," she said. She poured herself another glass of water and proceeded to drink it. "Actually, I think I'm going to try and do a little work, do you mind?"

"Miranda, the doctor said you should rest," James said.

"And, apparently, she also said it might have just been mild contractions from the painful way in which she tried to twist Twin B into position yesterday," Miranda said.

James rolled his eyes.

"Look, I was planning for tomorrow to be my last day anyway. I'm going on leave starting Monday. I really just have to go through a few things and then I can go home, and I'll even start leave a day early," she said.

"Fine. I can't force you to go home, but at least let me stay here with you. I've got my laptop, so I can get a little work done, too."

"Of course," she said, kissing him softly. "I'm glad you're home."

"Miranda, this is Runway, not 'home,'" he said with a smile.

"James, right now it's as much my home as our house, because you are here," she said, walking over to her desk. For the next hour, she went through her email inbox and answered what she could, flagging everything else for either Nigel or Tiffany to handle. She finished the third-quarter budget plan, and since they were at the mid-point of Q2, she updated their plan vs. actual tracking so that Nigel wouldn't have so much to worry about.

She was sure to drink plenty of water, which also meant many trips to the bathroom. As she shut the door of her private bathroom for the umpteenth time that day, she wondered if whoever designed this office was eight months pregnant. She couldn't think of any other situation where a bathroom attached to the office would be convenient.

She asked Tiffany to call Nigel in so she could show him where she had everything saved on her computer, should he need it. Just as he was walking in, she felt a very sharp pain in her abdomen. The pain was so intense, it took her breath away and she wasn't able to cry out. Instead, she just gripped the edge of the desk and leaned forward, staring at a spot on the carpet until the pain went away.

"Miranda!" Nigel called, running up to her and reaching for her hand. She squeezed it tightly as he ran his arm up and down her back. "Breathe, sweetie. It's almost over. You're doing great. Almost there—keep breathing," he said.

He felt her grip loosen, and he carefully guided her to the nearby chair. He handed her a glass of water as she closed her eyes and tried to catch her breath.

"Honey, what is it?" James asked, suddenly at her side. Nigel refused to let go of her right hand, so James moved to the other side.

"It was another contraction, but a lot worse," she said.

"But you were fine after you woke up," James said, confused.

"That's common with women in labor," Nigel said.

"Oh, and how would you know?" James hissed.

"Excuse you! I have been here taking care of Miranda for just as long as you have. Just because she goes home to you at night doesn't mean—"

"Doesn't mean what?"

"It doesn't mean that I'm any less useful to her. She needs you to be supportive when she's in pain!" Nigel shouted.

"But how did you know that she was doing a good job? Or that it was almost over?"

"I didn't! I just fucking told her that! That's what husbands are supposed to do!"

"Stop!" Miranda hissed as she squeezed both of their hands tightly. She closed her eyes and was holding her breath.

"Breathe, sweetie," Nigel said as he rubbed her shoulder with his free hand. "Come on, breathe in and out. You can do this. You're almost there."

"That's it, honey," James said. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and placed his free hand on her belly. "You're doing great. Keep breathing."

When her grip loosened for a second time, Nigel kneeled next to the chair and handed her a glass of water with a straw. "Do you want to walk around a little and see if that helps?" he asked her.

She shook her head and closed her eyes, trying to focus on catching her breath.

"Come on, we're going home," James said.

"I can't make it," she said. They could both see that she was physically exhausted.

Nigel stepped away and called Dr. Lowry, explaining to her the severity and frequency with which her contractions returned. Dr. Lowry advised him to bring Miranda to the hospital right away, because if she was actually in labor, they'd be able to give her an epidural at this point. He asked Tiffany to call an ambulance to meet them in the back at the service dock, and to bring a wheelchair and meet them in the lobby. The hospital was just around the corner, so he was sure they would be there very quickly.

When Nigel returned, Miranda was crying and shaking her head as James whispered something to her.

"I just talked to Dr. Lowry and she wants you to go to the hospital right away. They're going to meet you in the lobby and take you through the service entrance to avoid any cameras," Nigel said.

"I don't think I can walk that far," she said.

"They're bringing a wheelchair."

"Nigel and I will help—I'll carry you if I need to," James said.

Nigel was secretly relieved that James stopped fighting him on everything.

"Come on, let us help you up," James said. She put both hands on the arms of the chair and pushed herself up, relieved when she felt her husband's arms linked through hers, helping her to her feet. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his neck.

Nigel gathered her coat and bag and asked Tiffany to hold the elevator for them. Miranda was having another contraction, and when he looked up to meet eyes with James, he felt relieved. As much as he wanted to help Miranda, the idea of fatherhood terrified him, and he was glad James was able to take over.

"Help me get walk her to the elevator?" James whispered.

Nigel nodded and they helped Miranda to stand up straight, then each linked an arm through hers to support her as they took the short walk from her office to the elevator. Tiffany held the door while they entered the elevator, then silently indicated to Nigel that the paramedics were waiting downstairs. He wasn't sure how Miranda would react to an ambulance, but if he could guess, he would imagine she would be pretty resistant.

As soon as the elevator doors shut, Miranda bent over, grimacing as another contraction came through. This time, she howled just a little bit, and Nigel leaned over and kissed her cheek.

"It's almost over, Miranda. Your baby girls will be here soon and all of this will be forgotten. I am so proud of you, sweetie," Nigel whispered, quiet enough so James wouldn't hear.

Miranda gasped and looked down at the floor of the elevator. "My—my water just broke."

"It's okay, you're doing great," James said. "We're going to get you to the hospital, and soon we'll be able to meet our daughters."

The elevator doors opened on the first floor and both security and two paramedics were waiting. The security guard reached inside and put the key in the elevator panel to hold it there on the first floor while the paramedics helped Miranda into the wheelchair.

"Miranda, you're going to be great," Nigel called as he watched the paramedics wheel her towards the service entrance. "I'll come see you at the hospital soon," he said.

"Thank you, Nigel, for everything," James said.

In the ambulance, they tried to keep her calm as they did a quick exam. The paramedics told her she looked to be dilated about 6-7 cm, and warned her that she should not push just yet, even if she feels the urge.

Once she was taken into a room in the Labor and Delivery unit, she changed into a hospital gown. The nurses asked her to get back into bed so they could connect two fetal heart rate monitors and prepare an ultrasound. Dr. Lowry came in, saw that both babies' hearts were beating strongly, and the ultrasound confirmed what they saw yesterday, that Twin B was still in a transverse position.

The anesthesiologist came in for the epidural, and Dr. Lowry asked him to wait while she finished her exam. Miranda was actually closer to 9cm dilated and about 95% effaced when she checked, so she quickly moved away and turned off the ultrasound, helping Miranda to turn to her side for the epidural.

"Miranda," she said, "soon, you're not going to feel any of the contractions anymore. I do want to discuss the possibility of a C-section with you, though. We can see anywhere from two to forty-five minutes between the first twin and the second twin's birth. Assuming all goes well with Twin A, there will likely be five or so minutes before your uterus begins contracting again to deliver the second baby. During this time—and you'll still have your epidural, so the most you'll feel is a slight discomfort—I will need to reach in and see if I can't turn Twin B so she can be delivered vaginally."

"And if not?" Miranda asked.

"If I'm not able to turn her, or if your uterus begins contracting too soon and I'm not given the chance, we will want to do a C-section right away. We'll be closely monitoring her heart rate throughout this, but I need you to know that if at any point I sense some trouble, we're going to prep for C-section and we'll have her out in sixty seconds."

"Okay, okay. I just want them to be healthy," she said.

"Great. That's my job to make sure that mom and babies are both healthy," she said. "Now, as we discussed yesterday, we'll need to do the twin delivery in the operating room, just so the staff can be on hand for any complications. Dad, I'll need you to change into scrubs. Miranda, we're going to start taking you down there now. I'm guessing the next time I check you will be 10cm and complete. Are you ready for this?"

Miranda smiled and nodded, the effects of the epidural already setting in.

Several minutes later, James joined them in the operating room. There was a team of about ten doctors and nurses, two baby bassinets, and several large trays of surgical instruments.

"How are you doing?" James asked, moving her hair cap up a little so he could kiss her forehead.

"I'm great. All of the pain from earlier is gone, and I just want to meet our babies so badly," she said.

"The first one is Caroline Ann, and the second one is Cassidy Elizabeth, right?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, nodding. "Caroline and Cassidy." She grimaced for a minute. "I think the epidural is wearing off."

"What does it feel like, Miranda?" Dr. Lowry asked. She was looking at the monitors, and quickly gestured for the nurses to adjust the bed and get Miranda's legs up in the stirrups.

"Like I have to go to the bathroom, or like I just need to push something."

"Okay, good, good. Moms are usually able to feel that through the epidural, so we have nothing to worry about. Looks like it's time for you to start pushing, so why don't you and James get ready, and I'll give you my count."

Miranda leaned forward and James wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She held his hand tightly and took a deep breath. As the doctor counted One, two, three, push!, Miranda pushed down with all her might.

A few minutes later, she repeated. And again. And again.

"Okay, Miranda, we can see her head, so we just need you to give one big push. This one might actually hurt more than the others, but we need you to push hard and hold it, okay. You're going to keep breathing, but keep pushing until the pressure is gone or until I tell you to stop. Got it?"

Miranda nodded and took a deep breath. When the doctor counted down, she pushed with everything she had, screaming until she felt a bit of relief.

"The head's out!" Dr. Lowry said. But the exertion was too much for Miranda. "Get her some oxygen right away," the doctor said. Both babies were holding steady on the monitors, but no matter how she twisted and tugged, she couldn't get the first baby's shoulders out.

Miranda's eyes blinked open.

"Welcome back," the nurse said with a smile. She looked over at the monitor and told Miranda she'd need one more big push in a few seconds. One, two, three, push! Push, push, push! Hold it—keep pushing! Keep pushing, a little more, there. Relax.

Dr. Lowry quickly suctioned the baby's airways and the little girl let out a loud wail. Two nurses clamped the umbilical cord, and Dr. Lowry handed the scissors over to James to do the honor. A nurse set a sterile blue sheet over Miranda's chest, while another nurse brought the baby to Miranda, laying her on her chest.

"Oh my god," Miranda cried. "Hello, Caroline, darling," she said, brushing the baby's cheek.

"She's losing a lot of blood," Dr. Lowry called. "I think Twin B's placenta is starting to detach."

The nurse quickly pulled the baby away from Miranda's arms and carried her to the other side of the room. There was a flurry of activity, and James was led out of the room while one of the doctors took Miranda's oxygen mask away and replaced it right away.

"What's going on?" she asked, seconds before succumbing to the anesthesia.

Hours later, she woke up and quickly reached for her belly. It was smaller and softer, and there was a bandage on one side. She felt an incredible soreness between her legs, and as she tried to sit up, she felt a searing pain in her abdomen. "My babies!" she cried.

"Shh, sweetie, it's okay, they're okay."

"Nige?"

"Yes, it's me. James is with the babies—he didn't want to leave them alone," he said. "How are you doing?"

"Oh god, Nigel, what happened? I remember seeing Caroline, and then a nurse took her away."

"She's fine. They're both perfect. Caroline was 5 pounds, 14 ounces, and Cassidy was 5 pounds, 6 ounces. Cassidy had to be delivered by a C-section because of her position and there not being enough time to twist her around, but they are both totally healthy," Nigel said. "Miranda, I am so proud of you. I can only begin to imagine what the past eight months have been like, and after the past twelve hours, I am truly in awe of you."

"What time is it?" she asked.

"About 4:00 AM. Cassidy was born just minutes before midnight."

"That all happened very quickly," she said.

"I know. But how are you doing, Miranda? Are you in any pain?" he asked, tucking her hair behind her ears.

"Just a little. Nothing compared to yesterday. Can I go see the babies?"

"No, they'll bring them in here. Because of your incision, they don't want you getting out of bed yet," he said. He reached over and pressed the call button on the bed and a nurse came through the door.

"Can I see my babies?" Miranda asked.

"Of course," the nurse said with a smile. "Just give me a minute. Dr. Lowry also wants to check and make sure your bleeding is under control. But you're looking great, considering," she said before she stepped out.

"What did that mean? Considering what?"

"Um, so you may have lost a lot of blood and needed a few transfusions," Nigel said. "But you're fine now."

"Nigel, tell me everything you know," Miranda said in that tone that let him know this was not negotiable.

"It was very scary. I was out in the hallway with James—this is before Cassidy was delivered—and the doctor came out and said they had given you three pints of blood already, and that they couldn't stop the bleeding. Cassidy's oxygen was getting cut off, and, well—"

"Well? Well what?"

"The surgeon asked if James wanted them to save Cassidy's life, or yours."

Miranda froze.

"It doesn't matter. You're both okay, and that's all that counts," Nigel said.

"What did he say?" Miranda asked quietly.

"He said to save your daughter."

Miranda brought her hand up to shield her eyes as she turned her head. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and Nigel hugged her tightly, kissing her forehead and trying to calm her down.

"Sweetie, take a few deep breaths. It's important to keep your blood pressure down, they said."

Miranda nodded and looked at him, her lower lip trembling.

"What matters is that you're both alive and healthy," he repeated. "If they asked you, what would you have said?"

"My baby, of course."

"Which is what James said."

"He's supposed to fight for me, too. It shouldn't have been that easy for him," she cried.

"Sweetie, I didn't say it was easy for him. I'm sure it tore him up inside. He knew they needed an answer quickly, though. The worst thing would have been to lose you both because he couldn't decide," Nigel said. He considered making a Sophie's Choice reference but decided not to.

Before he could say anything further, two nurses came in with bassinets, and James was with them.

"Let me see Cassidy," Miranda said quickly.

The nurse carefully picked up the baby and laid her in her mother's arms. Miranda whispered a few things to her and kissed her on the forehead, her own tears falling onto her daughter's cheek.

"How is she?" James asked Nigel.

"Sore, exhausted, and really emotional. I think she's feeling really vulnerable right now, and maybe a little guilty. She needs you," he added.

James nodded and walked over to pickup Caroline, then joined Miranda, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Miranda, I'm going to go get some rest. I'll be back later this morning to say hello and bring you some clothes and stuff, okay?"

Miranda nodded. "Thank you for everything, Nigel." She turned to look at Caroline and then looked up at James. "I can't believe it—everything happened so fast," she said as she started crying again.

He tried to console her, but the babies were in the way, so he set Caroline in her bassinet, then took Cassidy from her mother's arms and set her in the bassinet as well. Then, he returned to the bed and climbed in next to Miranda, pulling her closely and holding her while she cried onto his chest.

"Honey, you are so amazing. Our daughters are perfect and healthy, and you are perfect and healthy. I am the absolute luckiest man in the world. I don't know what I've done to deserve you, but you know, you're incredible. I love you so much," he said.

Miranda just sat there silently, crying in his arms.