Born, born and reborn

It's now 10:45 p.m., and Day One of my daughter's lives is only a few hours old.
My new life is as well.
The streets are nearly empty of cars, the street lights flood even the darkest parts of Greeley, and the traffic signals turn green even before I stop as I approach. Most sleep in preparation for Friday, the best day of the week, to be sure, but still another workday.
It's peaceful.
It's exactly how I feel inside.
It's also exactly the opposite of how I felt just a few hours ago.
• • •

We went into the doc's on edge and, I'm sorry to say now, ready for battle. Kate had had enough, after yet another sleepless night (I barely got a few myself). One of the twins was in her ribs, she could barely breathe, and she was tired of lugging around two babies.
But our doctor, after checking Kate and finding out that she was essentially halfway there, agreed with our pleas and checked Kate into the hospital.
It was time, she agreed.
Two hours later, after dropping off softball equipment for our team at a friend's house (priorities, of course) and posting (priorities again), we were in the hospital, and doc broke Kate's water. We hung around for another two hours after a nice little ole thing we call an epidural (I prefer to call it heaven). Suddenly Kate was ready to go, and that's when the shortest half hour of my life, coupled with the longest two minutes of my life, happened.
"She's at 10."
"Dan, put these scrubs on. We're headed to the OR."
"Uh, OK."
"Go, go go."
It was another 10 minutes when Kate was prepared to deliever and our doc suddenly sent me away.
"Baby B is deaccelerating. I have to do a C-section. Dan you have to step outside."
• • •
So I sat outside the doors, calm as can be on the outside, while my stomach did the Tango.
The clock slowed to a crawl.
All I knew was one of my daughters was having trouble and they were preparing to carve up Kate like she was the roast beast at Christmas. And so I waited.
And waited.
It was only two mintues, but when a nurse came back for me, I sprinted to the OR and found two squaling girls on the side.
Oh.
Wow.
OK.
"Which one is the boy?"
Um...
"No, wait, they're both girls."
Heh. I almost fainted.
• • •
So there they were, and I really thought that this time wouldn't be nearly as weird, now that I've had a baby under my belt, but seeing two of them there was...um....I still dont' know how to describe it.
It didn't hit me until I carried both of them back to Kate in the recovery room. It would be the second time she would see them.
Holy shit, I thought. My arms are full.
(We've already heard "You've got your hands full" at least 15 times, and we haven't even left the damn hospital. Oh and once I looked up and saw, literally, 25 people crowded around the window staring at my babies. Yes, there are two. Now please go away).
My arms are full, my hands are full, and my life is full now. It will almost be too much.
Almost.
Jayden seemed really excited about his sisters, and while I know it won't always be that way, it was really nice to see him smile at his two girls.
Kate was so relieved despite just being carved open a few hours ago. She feels good. It's her last labor. I can tell she's really happy.
As for me, I am at peace, and I'm not sure I expected that feeling. Maybe this was hanging over my head more than I realized.
Or maybe I'm ready for it. Maybe I'm ready for the chaos and the joy and the exhaustation I'll surely feel these next few months.
Maybe I'm ready for my new life.
Day one of their lives is only a few hours old.
Day two of my own starts tommorow.





Kate moments after they were born:







And say hello to Andie and Allie. Allie was 6 pds., 1 oz. Andie was 5 pds., 13 ozs. They look good, they just ate well, they are breathing even better and the doctor does not think they will need any time in the NICU.
Allie is the one on the left. I think.







P.S. They look identical, don't they? Even trained baby nurses have a hard time telling them apart. Maybe I'm being ghey, but I have to admit this excites me to no end.