24. Emerson

It was a cool spring morning when we arrived at the hospital. The sun rose into a beautiful clear blue sky, the birds singing, the snow mostly melted from the ground. It was the perfect day to finally meet our babies, and I, for one, was excited.

Roland, however, was a mess.

He was fidgeting in the seat in the waiting room, his knee bouncing hard enough to shake the entire row of chairs. "Hey, Ro, how are you doing?" I asked gently. His hand was cold and clammy when I pried it off the armrest he'd been strangling in a death grip.

"Huh? Oh. Fine, I'm fine." Two seconds later, his attention was drifting once again, his eyes glazed and focused on nothing.

There was nothing I could do to comfort him for now. I would be a nervous wreck in his shoes, but I did what I could to share the burden. I read over the forms I'd been given to fill in, checking off the right boxes and signing my name. We'd already gone over all of this with our doctor, but I forced myself to read each of the potential risks one by one—blood clots, excessive bleeding, infection, risk to future pregnancies. Things usually went smoothly, but I refused to go into this unprepared. It was pure torture thinking of anything happening to Roland or our children, but I told myself that when this was all over, the relief would make it all worth it.

We'd been told we wouldn't have to wait long, but of course, in true hospital fashion, they were wrong. How could they already be running late? It was only 9am! Roland groaned and leaned on my shoulder. "I'm starving. If I'd known I would have to wait this long, I would've snuck in a snack."

"Soon, baby, I promise," I soothed, kissing the top of his head. I hadn't eaten anything either, in solidarity with his fasting, but I would never dare complain about my hunger now. My discomfort was a small thing in comparison to Roland carrying our twins.

Finally, a nurse in teddy bear scrubs came to collect the paperwork and told us it was time. She led us back to a room where we could get changed, Roland into a gown, and me into a pair of blue scrubs.

Roland paused, hands cradling his belly. His hair had gotten longer as it got harder to move or even sit long enough for a haircut, and I brushed his bangs back where it hung down over his forehead. "I'm gonna miss them," he whispered, getting teary-eyed. "The babies."

"What do you mean? You won't need to miss them; you can see them anytime you want, hug them and kiss them."

His lip stuck out in a pout. "It won't be the same. This time I got to spend with them, it was special."

I stepped in as close as I could with his stomach between us and kissed his temple sweetly. "It'll be even more special with them on the outside, so you can see your love shining back at you when you tell them you love them."

He smiled slowly. "That sounds wonderful," he admitted.

"Besides," I added, "you can be pregnant again, you know. We can have more babies."

Now he peeked up at me shyly. "Lots of babies?"

I chuckled. "Yes, lots of babies. As many as you want." Now that the hotel was turning a profit, we could afford to grow our family. I wanted nothing more than to give Roland the life he deserved, and if he wanted babies, then that was what I would give him. If for whatever reason, we couldn't have any more ourselves, then we would adopt or foster. We could get furbabies galore! Anything for my omega, the love of my life.

The same nurse from earlier came into the room to check on us. "All right, daddies," she said in her bubbly voice. "Let's get this show on the road."

She had Roland get onto the bed, then got his IV started. By the time the anesthesiologist arrived to put in the epidural, the level of excitement began to ramp up. This felt like a dream. Just this morning, I'd woken up in our own bed with Roland in my arms, and in just an hour, I would be holding my babies, our family of two suddenly becoming four. It was so surreal!

We headed to the operating room as a team, with the staff pushing the bed, and I walked along beside Roland, holding his hand. He was gazing up at me with such trust and the purest love I'd ever seen. "Don't let go, okay?" he asked.

"Never," I replied.

They got him set up, with monitors displaying Roland's heart rate, blood pressure, and oxygen level, as well as the fetal monitors for the twins. I was no doctor, but everything looked good to me, nice and steady. There was a drape clipped up so that we couldn't see what was happening below the waist. I was both worried and grateful for that.

When the door swung open, we turned to watch Dr. Zappek come in, finally signaling that it was time to begin. "Good morning," he said. "How are we—" He didn't have a chance to finish the question before his hip caught a tray of instruments, sending them skittering across the floor. "Oh fuck," he muttered, stepping to the side, before his foot came down on one of the tools and he slipped, his leg jerking out at an unnatural angle. He flailed around for a second before regaining his balance. He held both gloved hands out at his sides. "I'm okay!" he declared to the roomful of people gaping at him.

And I was supposed to trust this guy with my husband's surgery? I was about to stand up and demand a new doctor, but Roland pulled on our joined hands, reeling me back. "It's okay, I trust him." I stared down into those beautiful brown eyes. As nervous as he'd been all morning, there was no sign of it now.

I grudgingly sat back in my seat by Roland's side and grumbled, "There will be another doctor on hand just in case, right?"

Dr. Zappek nodded solemnly, his usual goofy attitude set aside to let his sincerity shine through. "Always," he assured me. "I promise, your husband is in good hands." As clumsy and awkward as the man was, he knew his stuff, and once a fresh tray of tools was brought in and the surgery began, he was all business.

I kept my word to Roland, holding his hand through it all. He couldn't feel anything that was going on behind the curtain, just a brief tugging sensation as they took out first one baby, then the other. Opal, in true older sister fashion, demanded to go first, soon crying loudly to announce her arrival. Jayden, however, didn't seem to mind waiting his turn. He seemed more patient, letting out a brief bleat while he was being cleaned up, before being swaddled.

"Congrats, daddies," Dr. Zappek said. "Your children look perfect." I couldn't see his grin behind his mask, but the corners of his his eyes were crinkled.

"Thank you," I told him with genuine gratitude. While he ducked down behind the curtain again, to finish up with the surgery, I watched as the nurses took care of the babies.

My fingers itched with the need to reach for them, but it wasn't time yet. Roland's hand tightened on mine, and I knew he was feeling that same need. His eyes were brimming with tears of joy, and when I touched my own cheeks, I found them wet.

"I love you so much," I told him, resting my forehead on his.

"I love you too."

It took a little while to get Roland all stitched up, but finally, all four of us were brought back to our room. The babies were asleep in little cradles, but as soon as I had Roland settled, I brought them over to the bed. I passed Opal over to Roland for her to feed, while I held Jayden skin to skin, then we traded.

Once we'd both finally had some breakfast, and the babies were fed, bathed, and napping in our arms, Roland blew out a long breath. "I can already tell you I'm not looking forward to the painkillers wearing off, but it's all worth it to bring these precious babies into the world. I can't believe they're ours."

"Believe it," I told him, laughing lightly as I perched on the bed next to him. He wiggled gently over to give me a little more room.

"I guess we should call our parents?" he asked, wincing. I could understand his reluctance; I wasn't quite ready to let the outside world in yet either, but I knew how excited they were to be grandparents for the first time. They had all wanted to be here in person, but Roland was already stressing out about the day, so we'd asked them to give us some time.

I sighed. "Okay. Five minutes, then I'm claiming there's a poop emergency and we need to go."

"Deal," he agreed, grinning.

Pulling out my phone with my free hand, I put together a group video chat. The screen divided in half, Roland's parents on top, my father on the bottom.

"Is it done? Are my grandbabies here?" Bethany asked, practically vibrating with giddy excitement.

Beside her, Walter wasn't faring any better. He had his face scrunched against hers, trying to get a peek at the screen. "Beth, I can't see," he grumbled.

"Congratulations," my father said, stoic as usual, but his eyes were twinkling. He already had a soft spot for these two, and I had no doubt that he would be spoiling them rotten.

I angled the phone around so they could get a view of the babies. "May I introduce you to Jayden and Opal," I whispered. We'd kept our name choices a secret, so this was the first they were hearing them.

Bethany squealed as quietly as she could manage so she didn't wake them up, holding a hand over her mouth. "Oh my goodness, they're so precious. Look at those little noses… Walter, I think Jayden looks like you." Walter said something in reply, but he'd been squeezed out of the shot, and I couldn't hear what he said. "And Ro? How are you feeling?" Bethany asked.

"I'm okay, just tired," Roland said, giving an exaggerated yawn, setting us up for an out from this call. I had to duck out of the camera so they didn't see me almost losing it. Roland was a horrible actor.

"Aww, honey," she said. "I tell you what, I'll give you guys a few days to get acquainted, but you can expect me to be there by the weekend. I'll help with the laundry and dishes, fill your freezer with enough meals to last you the first month."

"Thanks, Mom," I told her. We'd already anticipated that she wouldn't be able to stay away. "We've already got the guest room set up for you and Dad." Roland's parents insisted I call them Mom and Dad. My father, meanwhile, had told Roland he could do the same, but so far, he hadn't been able to bring himself to do it. Instead, he called him Reiny—it was as casual as he'd been able to go.

Soon enough, after more fake yawns (and possibly a couple real ones too), we managed to wrap up the call. Roland really did need his rest, after all. "Get some sleep, sweetheart," I told him, kissing his forehead.

"If you insist," he said, his eyelids already drooping. Roland would get a few days in the hospital to recover, and to make sure the babies were doing well, and then, at long last, I could bring my family home, where they belonged.

Our lives had been entirely upended, and I was so ready for the chaos.