Thankfully, that night spent alone in the hospital with the twins passes uneventfully. I'm still feeling twinges now and again, but not in a set pattern and everyone's hopeful the worst of the danger is past. By morning, things are feeling pretty normal but Dr. Connor's said I'm pretty much confined to strict bed rest; only allowed to move around at home and that's even to be limited. Still, I stubbornly tell myself, it's as it was when the same scare happened when I was pregnant with Tyler: I'd stand upside down on my head for the next couple of months if it meant Jaden and Emily would remain safe and sound within me.

Russell brings the kids first thing in the morning, and I notice them both gazing at my belly the moment they walk in; so I know they were worried I wouldn't hang on to the babies overnight. They're reassured, though; and soon we're back to cuddling and loving, just as we were before.

The doctor wants to keep me at least one more day, wanting to make sure there's nothing else going on. Besides early labor, he's also concerned about things such as gestational diabetes and toxemia. I can see how much Russ wants to spirit me away as quickly as possible, but when we were alone here we discussed pretty much any scenario and how we would deal with it, and he understands that first and foremost, to have healthy babies, I'm going to have to stay healthy. The tests all come back negative, though, and so after spending a second night without the family around me, I get to come home.

Russell comes to fetch me by himself, promising a surprise when we get back, and sure enough, there's Lil and Tyler waiting with their grandparents, with flowers and balloons and a huge banner proclaiming "Welcome Home Mummy!" Both of the children have drawn me elaborate pictures and shower me liberally with hugs and kisses. Of course, then I have to settle in almost immediately to a prone position on the sofa, but I'm perfectly happy where I am and I can tell the rest of the family's content now that I'm home with them, too.

From here on out, it's a waiting game---trying to get Jaden and Emily as close to the mark of the due date as possible, while still attempting to be a full-time mum to my current two children and not neglecting the fact that I'm Russell's wife. He's assured me that the most important thing is staying well and keeping the twins the same, and that he and the other two kids will be fine. We explained to both of them before I came home that I would have to try to stay as still and calm as possible, and I think with them having witnessed firsthand the dire consequences if I don't, they're trying very hard to make this as easy for me as possible.

My first full day at home, he comes back from taking the kids shopping and hands me what appears to be an overgrown iPod. "What's this?" I ask curiously.

He shows me a smaller version, neatly clipped to his belt. "Latest technology, Liss...it's one of those monitor things, for babies, y'know?"

"Very nice..." We'd given our old one that we used for the first kids away. This is tinier and more compact than that one, and we thought that was state-of-the-art. When I attempt to hand my part back to him, he shakes his head. "No, you're gonna keep that with you."

"What...?" But now I get it. "In case I need to call you." 

"Yeah, not that I expect to be too far, but you can yell, and I'll hear you, whatever other room I'm in." He looks entirely pleased at coming up with this concept all on his own.

"You might regret giving me this." I set it beside the bed. "And damn it, now I can't talk about you behind your back to anyone." 

"Not that you would." He grins. "I'm gonna go see what the tykes are up to, and I'll be right back." 

He's barely left me when I can't resist. Picking up my half of it, I speak clearly and distinctly into the speaker. "Babe? Love ya." 

A moment later, I smile when he pops his head back in the doorway. "Love ya, too," he tells me, and then he's off again. 

I'm glad the twins are safe, but I must confess that it's very boring to be basically confined to bed with not much to do. For someone who's used to being a very involved, hands-on mom to my kids, this sort of chafes at me.

Lil and Tyler try to stay near me as much as they can; and so does Russell, but it's not fair to keep them attached to my side day in and day out. So, they go and do things together, just the three of them, sometimes. I tell myself I'm not jealous, but I can't help being just a little bit so.

After a week of this I feel I'm going stir crazy. But all I have to do to knock myself out of it is remember feeling the contractions start, wondering if the babies would survive, and visualize the looks on the faces of my other children and my husband. That stops me from feeling sorry for myself pretty quickly.

There are small, quiet, special moments with all three of them. With Russell especially late at night when we're alone and at peace in our big bed; or first thing in the morning when we lie there talking softly before the kids wake up. Tyler's taken to napping beside me in the afternoons; Lily considers naps beyond her at this point, but she comes in and spends time alone with me, too.

This evening is one of those times; Russell went to go give Tyler a bath, and then he promised to make her a tub with bubbles. While she waits for them to be finished, she's sitting beside me watching me crochet the edging on a flannel baby blanket.

"Will you show me how to do that, Mum?" she asks, fascinated by my movements, studying me intensely as if memorizing every detail. 

"When you're a little bigger, Lil, of course I will," I promise. 

"Your belly button pokes out," she observes. She shows me where my shirt's pulled taut across my stomach. "It looks funny." 

I smile. "The babies are making it that way. After I have them and they come out of me, it'll go back in."

"Did me 'n Tyler make it do that, too?" she wants to know.  As the pregnancy progresses, she's becoming more and more interested in the entire process and wants details of when I was expecting her and her brother. Russell suggested once we let her witness the birth; but I told him I felt I've already traumatized her enough to this point without completely horrifying her seeing me that way.

"Yep, both of you did that." 

"Does it hurt when they stretch out your tummy that way, Mama?" She frowns. "When my tummy's full, it hurts, sometimes." 

"Well..." I consider just what to tell her, because my answer could impact her view for years. "It doesn't HURT, exactly...but as they get bigger and bigger, it sometimes doesn't feel very comfy."

"But we WANT them to get bigger and bigger." 

"Yes, we definitely want that." 

"But it hurts when you have them." Because she had so many questions, we got a video from Dr. Connor's office that explains the basic concepts of conception and birth for preschool age children. We asked her if she had any questions (to Russell's immense relief, she didn't have any potentially embarrassing ones), and I know she noticed that giving birth didn't exactly appear, as Daddy jokingly puts it, 'like going on holiday'.

"They can give you medicine so it doesn't hurt so bad...but yes, muffin, it does hurt a little bit. Tell you what, though, you're so eager to meet your new baby that you're willing to feel a bit bad to get to see what they look like in the end."

"I hurt my finger," Lil explains, holding it up for my inspection. I can't see a single thing wrong with it, but I make a sympathetic sound and kiss it better. "Does it hurt that bad?"

I can't lie outright to my daughter. "No, it hurts worse than that, I'm afraid."

"Why would you want it to hurt worse than THAT?" She sighs. "Even if you get a new baby, that doesn't sound like fun at all." 

Just then I hear Tyler's cheerful belly laugh; we both look up to see him dart past the bedroom door, still wet and totally naked. Right behind him is Daddy, looking more than a little frazzled. "C'mere, you little ---!" He pauses long enough to tell both of us, although it sounds like he's trying to convince himself more than me or Lily, "Everything's under control." Then, "Get your bare bottom over here, before I spank it!"

We look at each other and laugh. "Part of the fun, Lil, is, you're never sure just what you're gonna get," I tell her. "And trust me; moments like this make me forget any of the other part of trying to get you here in the first place."

It's Lil's turn for her bath; and when they switched she must have told Tyler to check out my 'outtie' navel, because when Russell deposits him on the bed next to me and goes back to check on her, that's the first thing he wants to see.

My little boy's not shy about the human body. I guess it's because he's two and a half, that age where parts and functions and things are highly fascinating. He pokes at it with a finger, through my shirt; looking at him, I'm reminded of watching a curious monkey. "Excuse me?" I ask, amusedly.

"'Scuse me," he automatically repeats. At least we've managed to drum into him some semblance of politeness. Then, he tries to tug my shirt up. "Want to see," he explains. "You funny, Mommy."

"Thanks a lot, buddy." But I obligingly lift my shirt, exposing my hugely pregnant stomach in all its rotund splendor, waiting to see what he does next. First, he attempts to use it as a sort of periscope, hoping, I guess, to be able to peer into the depths and see his new brother and sister giving him the thumbs up or something. When he realizes it's popped out and doesn't turn in, he pokes it again, like trying to push a button. "Tyler, please don't do that," I admonish, although I'm trying very hard to keep from laughing.

"Okay." Then he actually leans forward, till his mouth is almost touching, and speaks into it like a microphone. "Helloooooo," he says. "'Lo, babies. Can you hear me?" Then, louder, "CAN YOU HEAR ME?" I immediately recall a television commercial where a caller is trying to maintain his cellular phone connection. Both twins kick and stir, probably at being rudely wakened from sleep, and I quickly place both of Tyler's small hands against my belly to feel that. "Funny," he says again. "Helloooooo?"

Russell chooses that moment to walk in and stops dead at the sight of his son hunched over my exposed belly having a fascinating conversation through my navel. "He thinks it's a portal into another dimension," I explain.

"I'll show him a portal into another dimension, the little terror," he says. But he acts like this is normal rather than a novelty. I suppose with our children, it is. "Be back, I'm going to go see to Lily," he says, shaking his head at Tyler's antics as he leaves.

"Helloooooo?" Tyler says to the twins, and I stroke his head, feeling amazedly blissful right at this moment.

My first meltdown comes a short time later, not unexpected but pretty much without warning. 

It's only a couple of weeks until Christmas, in the seventh month of pregnancy, each day another step closer to the twins' safe arrival and a small milestone to celebrate. It's hard to get in a festive mood, however, when I'm confined primarily to bed and can't even really help my husband get ready for the holidays. Trying to keep everything smooth and normal for Tyler and Lily, he got a tree, decorated it with their assistance and my supervision from the sofa, and has been trying to do the Christmas shopping all by himself. Of course, the two of us have gone online a great deal and had things shipped in, but part of the fun for me has always been going out in search of just the perfect gifts. Yes, I'm feeling sorry for myself and this time I really can't shake it.

I feel positively enormous; and this is proven today when I go to take my wedding ring off to smooth some lotion on my hands and it won't budge. My fingers have swollen to the point where even twisting it around won't get it to loosen. Panicked, I tug and about pop my finger out of joint. Tears coming to my eyes, I yelp, "Ouch!" and then, seeing as how the children aren't around (forgetting the two currently in my womb), "DAMN IT!"

Russell sticks his head in from the kitchen nearby. "What's wrong, Liss?" Seeing my brimming eyes and my frustration, he stops what he's doing and comes to squeeze in beside me on the couch. "Lissy, talk to me, love."

I hold up my hand. "I can't get my fucking ring off." 

He lifts an eyebrow at my choice of wording, trying not to chuckle, I can tell. I take a swing at him. "Goddamn it, it's not funny! I'm horribly huge and I feel like a beached whale! Stop laughing at me!"

"I'm not laughing at you, baby."

"Don't patronize me, Russell," I snap. 

"Listen...sweetheart...I know this is rough on you. I know you're tired and frustrated and you want these babies to get here...I know you want to get out and do things...you're not in the mood for Christmas..."

"Do NOT," I hiss, "tell me what you know. You don't know shit and my ring is still stuck on my damn finger. Are you gonna help me or not?"

With that perfectly serious expression he's perfected, he deadpans, "I could cut your finger off. Or better yet, you could bite it off, like you bit my head off just now."

I sniffle. "I'm sorry," I murmur, suddenly contrite. 

He takes my hand in his, gently rubbing and rotating the ring back and forth, back and forth, while carefully working it up and down at the same time. "No, I'm sorry you're going through this. I know..." he stops, watches for my reaction, and when I merely gaze at him, he continues, "I know you're probably tired of hearing me say this, but if I could do more, I could."

"You do enough already." The ring has maybe budged a millimeter. He doggedly keeps trying, stopping so often to raise my hand up to look at it from a different angle.

"I feel I don't do enough." His quiet admission shocks me. 

"How can you say that? You're here for me, and the kids...all four of them...you're Maximus, the Savior of Rome," I tease. "What more could anyone ask for?"

He gets a wry grin. "I'm just human, Lissy." 

I make him stop for a moment; hold our hands to my breast, over my heart. "I know," I tell him. "And I love you. I couldn't ask for anything more, actually."

Russell sighs. "I feel so helpless...I've felt that every time you've been pregnant, watching you give birth...it goes away after, when the baby arrives and I'm holding them for the first time...but especially with these two I feel life's so fucking fragile and I have no control over it."

I smile. "Life IS fucking fragile, and why don't we let some of it be up to God, huh?"

He smiles back and then reaches out to kiss me. "Knew there was a reason I married you." 

"Yeah, besides my wit and my charming personality...and my beautiful beached whale persona?" I joke.

"You ARE beautiful, Liss, and don't think any differently." Then he gets a blatantly triumphant look as he twists and tugs one final time and the ring slides free, into the palm of his hand. "Ah ha." There's an angry red mark around the base of my finger where it dug into my swollen flesh; he tenderly massages it until it fades and then gives it a kiss better, like he does with Lily. "Everything all right now?"

"No." Like Lil, I sniffle again and look at him with a pitifully sad expression, milking his sympathy for all it's worth. 

"What's wrong now, love?" 

I hold up my right hand. "I have another damn ring stuck over here, too!" I wail, showing him my anniversary ring he gave me for Christmas a few years ago stubbornly attached to my other finger.

He can't help himself; he bursts out laughing. I slug him in the shoulder but then I laugh, too; he hugs me and deposits my wedding ring safely in my hand before beginning work on the other one.

After that, I wear my rings on a gold chain around my neck. I was fairly upset about that, because not even my previous pregnancies with Lily or Tyler brought me to this point, but Russ assures me that the rings are merely a symbol of his love for me, and the fact that I can't wear them on my fingers just now doesn't mean anything wrong. He also assures me that although the babies can most certainly hear me, a few colorful words are not going to hinder their emotional or mental development at this stage.  It's still Tyler we have to worry about on that front; he adores Russell and loves to mimic him, even down to a curse word now and again. One time, he overheard when Russ didn't think he was around and we had to cure him of chanting, "Damn, shit, damn, shit" all day long. Of course Lily is usually quite horrified by this behavior but excuses it from both her brother and her dad by saying resignedly, "It's because they're BOYS, Mum," like, what CAN you do about THAT? I find the entire thing totally precious and hilarious. The dynamics will probably change once we add another girl and another boy into the mix, and it should turn out rather interesting.

Despite the fact that it still is difficult to get into proper holiday spirit, there are a few things that make it a special time nonetheless: the fact that we're all together as a family, Jaden and Emily still resting safe and snug within me, and that we'll have them out in the world and with us to celebrate next year.

With Dr. Connor's cautious permission, because of his concern over my swollen hands and feet and the continuing worry problems may still develop, I'm able to get a little bit of exercise, every other day, under the guidance of a physical therapist he sent over that specializes in workouts for pregnant women. With the bulk of the twins ever increasing, it's a little tricky, but I can at least do some sedate walking on a treadmill and some stretching and toning, mild yoga and Pilates. Lily loves this and eagerly looks forward to 'exercise days'; she puts on her own little leotard and follows right along, concentrating on following exactly every movement. Tyler, of course, can never be left out; he always begins by trying to copy but then it inevitably turns into an impromptu tumbling session as he rolls and does somersaults on the floor mats. He also tries to climb on the treadmill behind me but after slipping off the back of it once and getting scraped up, he's decided floor exercises better suit him. As it gets closer to delivery time, though, we might also have to hire a crane operator to get me down and back up off the floor.

Pretty soon, it's Christmas Eve, and all of us have gathered before it's time to head off to bed and wait for Santa to arrive. Earlier in the day, Nicole came over and brought her children; we exchanged gifts and had a nice time visiting. She just finished filming a movie in Italy and brought back as a present for all of us a beautiful handmade crèche that she purchased while there. The detail to the Nativity figures are exquisite and we just finished setting it up together, everyone taking turns putting them into position. As the youngest (so far), Tyler gets the privilege of placing the Christ Child into the manger.

Lil shows him where it goes and in her usual Mini-Mum manner, admonishes, "Be careful." 

"I KNOW!" He glares at her for a moment and then, remembering he's holding the Baby Jesus, sobers and gives him a kiss before placing him in the proper spot. Then, before any of us can admire his handiwork, he says, "Wait, not done yet," and goes over to where our old one was set up several days ago. He takes that baby out of its spot and sticks it next to the new one, sort of cramming them into the manger together. Jaden's foot nudges me a bit uncomfortably in the ribs and I'm sure I understand right about now how the dual Jesuses feel.

"They didn't have two babies!" Lil is a little shocked at this sacrilege. 

"Mama's havin' two babies!" he shoots back, looking to Russell and me for support on this one. Both of us are fighting not to burst out laughing but rather attempt to calm down the family feud about to simmer over.

"That's true enough, mate," Russell says to Tyler, and then more quietly to Lily, "Humor your brother on this, okay, love?" He winks at her, then at me. Tyler then turns his gaze to me for my opinion.

"It's fine, sweetheart, just fine," I reassure. "But I think that the other people over there will be lonely now that the baby's moved over here with these people."

He has the perfect solution to that. So I imagine ours is the only Nativity scene set up that has two Marys, two Josephs, six wise men, and an entire entourage of shepherds, angels, sheep, cows, donkeys and camels. Not to mention the twins in the manger. No room at the inn, indeed.

That evening, after we've said goodnight to Nana and Papa, the kids come in, freshly bathed and dressed in their new Christmas pajamas, to say goodnight to me. As is our custom, they snuggle between us on the bed for a bit.

"Okey dokey, guys, best be heading off to sleep, before Santa gets here," Russell tells them. "And listen, in the morning, try and do Mummy and the twins a favor and let them sleep in a bit, all right? None of this getting up at five am, begging to open up gifts."

"Oh, Russ, you can't expect that of them..." I begin, but both Tyler and Lily nod solemn agreement. "How 'bout six?" Lil asks seriously. 

"How 'bout noon?" he asks, grinning when he sees her expression. "How 'bout, you come get me, and I'll decide if it's okay to wake up Mum." 

"Okay." She's always been the agreeable child. Then, she gets a worried look. "Daddy...does Santa know we're in Sydney this year? What if he comes to the farm lookin' for us, and we're not there?"

"He knows," I tell her. "Besides, even if he forgot, Uncle Terry or someone would remind him. No worries there." 

This satisfies both of them. "Now, off to bed with you," Daddy tells them. "Give Mum a kiss and tell her you'll see her in the morning." 

"Night, Mum..." Lily gives me a big hug and kiss, then kisses my belly, "Night, Emmy and Jaden." 

"Night, night, Mama." Tyler copies. "Night, night, babies," he speaks directly into my navel. Ever since that one time, he's sure it's a direct conduit to them. I ruffle his hair. "To bed with you, little man. I love you both."

Adjusting the mountain of pillows more comfortably behind me, curling my hands around the twins, I'm sound asleep before Russell even gets back from tucking them in.

The next morning, I wake to the feeling I'm being watched. 

I look down on the floor on my side of the bed to see both of my children patiently, mostly quietly sitting there waiting, I presume, for either myself or my husband to waken. They don't notice I'm awake right away so I lie there and listen to their whispered banter.

"Wanna wake up Dad," Tyler says. "He said..."

"He said to come get him," Lily said, "but he didn't say if he was asleep we could wake him up."

"I gonna." Tyler makes a move, and Lil grabs the back of his pajamas. "No! No, no, no! They'll wake up soon. They've gotta wake up soon." 

"Lil..." 

"We can't wake up Mama and the babies." She sighs. "You gots to be PATIENT." Then, she sighs a bit louder and more exaggeratedly, as if hoping that will get us up. Her finger begins tracing the pattern of the rug and she sighs again. I'm wondering if I should let them out of their collective misery when beside me, I feel Russell stir, ever so slightly. We fell asleep like we usually do, tucked into each other, at least as much as possible with the twins far out in front of me. His arm's around me, his hand resting on them, his face buried against the side of my neck. "They can hardly stand it," he murmurs, so softly only I can hear.

"Mmm," I respond, feeling him smile. Then, he raises his head enough to see past me and we both lie there gazing at them until they notice. 

"They're up! They're up!" Tyler leaps off the floor and dances joyously around. 

"Merry Christmas!" Lily, too, springs to her feet, twirling in circles. "C'mon, hurry! Can we go now, Daddy? Please?" 

"Yes, alright, go, go." Russell sits up. "But don't open a thing until we get there." He's got a sort of cruel streak in him. They look at him in disbelief but run out to at least go examine their goodies.

He watches them leave, chuckling, and I shake my head. "You're so mean."

"I don't want to miss anything," he says. He's as bad as they are. "So, come on, let's get up and go see what Santa brought us." 

"I think Santa's given me enough already," I comment meaningfully, struggling to rise to a sitting position. He has to help me, rubbing my belly as if for luck. "Ho ho ho." Then, tenderly, "Merry Christmas, Liss."

"Merry Christmas," I tell him. More than anything, Christmas is a holiday of love, and I feel that so strongly as I look at him, then recall the kids' shining faces, and feel the crowded stirrings of the two new ones within me.

I have to say, despite the fact that I'm pretty much immobile; this is one of the best Christmases ever. Tyler and Lily, when Daddy and I finally get there, are restless as can be; and we try not to notice when we walk in both of them poking and shaking several gifts as well as one where Tyler's artfully pulled back a small bit of paper. Russ gives them the go-ahead, and they gleefully dive into their bounty.

His parents join us not too long thereafter; and then while the kids are busy with their new toys, Jocelyn cooks breakfast while we're content to just snuggle and watch them. This time next year, Emmy and Jaden will be with us and just old enough to find everything fascinating, and I so look forward to that.

Russell did a fine first solo effort as Santa, since I fell asleep, and though I feel a tiny pang of regret at that, I feel vibrantly refreshed and contented. Just about another month and a half; since ironically, the twins are due around my and Lily's birthdays, and I can't think of a better gift, truly.

Pretty soon, we're saying goodbye to another year---this New Year's Eve spent quietly, sharing a small toast at midnight with Russell's Mum and Dad, me drinking some sparkling non-alcoholic stuff rather than customary champagne---and all of us looking ahead to the downhill stretch waiting for the twins to arrive.

We've made arrangements for my mother to fly in from the States to be here for the birth and to help out thereafter, and it's now the middle of January, just a scant four weeks to go until the due date. She's arriving today, and we've all been up early getting things ready for her arrival. Well, the rest of the family; I've been relegated to supervisory position from my usual perch on the sofa.

I've just sat up and rearranged the pillows when I feel the first twinge. Ruefully rubbing the spot, just over Emily, I settle back in and a short time later, it comes again. Not wanting to frighten the kids or panic anyone else, especially my husband, I wait to see if another comes with regularity, and when it does, I know that this is for real. I've still been having the false contractions here and there, but after giving birth already to two children and having two prior premature labor scares; I think I can tell the difference between false pains and the genuine thing.

When I have the chance to get Russell alone, I motion him over. "I think I'm in labor," I tell him, very softly. 

His face goes absolutely pale. "Are you sure?" he asks. 

I give him that 'why are you questioning me?' look, then reassure him. "It's okay. We almost made it." 

He gives me that intense, completely serious look. "Liss..."

"Russell, it's going to be all right. I'm not going to have them right here, right now...but we should get to the hospital all the same." He's very good at organizing things. In no short time at all, he's rounded up his parents and the kids and we tell them what's going on. "So...the thing is, I've got to get Mum to the hospital," he tells Lil and Tyler, "and you two will go pick up Grandma with Nana and Papa."

"They're not supposed to come yet." Lily's small face is full of concern. I reach for her and hold her close, even as Daddy's off to go get my bag, packed almost as soon as we arrived here after the first scare. "It'll be fine, sweetie, I promise. They're not too early now...Dr. Connor will make sure everything's okay...and by the time you go get Grandma and come to find me, they'll probably be here and you can meet them for the first time."

She nods, still unsure. I give her a kiss and Tyler, too. "Watch after your brother, muffin. I wouldn't tell you it was all right if it wasn't true." 

Strangely, at this point, I feel pretty darn serene. It's everyone else that's going mental. Of course, I'm sure this will all change as I calmly get situated for the quick drive to the hospital.

Once there, I get settled in a room, hopefully to stay until the twins are born. The contractions are still steady, and although I can tell Russell's still worried, at this point, I think the best thing is to let nature take its course and simply let them come.

This is echoed by Dr. Connor as soon as he gets in to check on me. "Couldn't wait an extra couple of days?" he teases, referring to my regularly scheduled appointment that now appears to be null and void.

"She couldn't even wait for her mum to get here," Russell says, explaining how my mother's on an airplane somewhere over the Pacific even as we speak. 

"Well, she'll probably get here in time," he reassures. "We did the ultrasound last week, and it looked like both babies had pretty much moved into position. They're both at a decent weight, as far as twins go...rather than try to stop this at this stage, I suggest we just go for it and let them do their thing."

"Is she going to be able to have them naturally?" my husband wants to know. 

"She," I break in pointedly, "is still in the room with you, by the way. And she is going to not be a hero and will probably ask for drugs somewhere along the line."

"He means vaginally," Dr. Connor explains. He and Russell have, over the years, developed this strange sort of relationship. Russ is so hands on and likes to be involved so much in my pregnancies that somehow I wonder sometimes if he's not kidding when he tells me he'd take on childbirth if he could, for my sake. He doesn't have a medical degree but he's done enough reading and research (it's part of his long-ingrained actor's persona, I suspect) that Dr. Connor doesn't mind consulting with him and getting his opinion on certain things. "I know you'd like that if you can," he addresses me directly, as I nod verification. "We'll do all we can to try that, but you know what we'll have to do if you can't." Anything to bring the babies safely into the world, is my opinion. I'd rather not have a c-section but, once again, I also don't intend to be a hero, either. As much as the idea scares me, if it becomes necessary, I wouldn't object.

"Settle in," he tells both of us. "I imagine it'll be awhile yet." And with the promise he'll continue to check on me regularly, he's off to see to other business.

"I'm going to call home and let them know we're here to stay," Russell tells me. Personally, I had no doubt of this, but I know as this has gone along, he's been concerned, especially in light of what happened a couple of months ago and what happened before, with the loss of our first child. He respects me as an individual and as his wife; I'm not saying that we're completely co-dependent on one another, I mean, I'm fiercely independent in a lot of ways and he totally honors that, but he's also got a deep, intensely protective streak in him, too. So I know he's worried about the babies and about my safety and health, as well. I know he'd rather the twins remain snug within me until the absolute due date but he's resigned to bringing them into the world today and I have his unconditional love and support. First he asks me, "Are you okay?" and when I tell him yes, because the contractions are pretty regular but nothing I can't handle just yet, he phones back to the apartment. He's talking to his dad and lets him know that we have indeed decided to go ahead with the delivery and so they will be in charge of our two youngsters and fetching my mom.

Tyler must have come on the line; he's at the age where he'll talk to anyone on the phone. Russell's tone changes, softens, and I have to smile at his end of the conversation, imagining what my chatty child is telling him on the other. "Yes, we're gonna have the babies...no, not right this minute...but they'll be here soon. Look, mate, I'm really sorry 'bout that, but can't you be big and work things out with your sister? Yes...yes...tell her I said so...and you have to give a little too, you know...Listen, Tyler, I'd love to work all of this out with you, but you're going to have to amongst yourselves....Mummy's having babies right now and I can't stay on here, all right? Good, love you too." I'm laughing by this time, only pausing when another pain hits, and he gazes over at me. "Lily wants to talk to you," he says. "Want me to tell her no?"

I know she's probably quite worried and anxious; and if I don't speak with her she'll remain that way until she finally gets to see me at the end of it all, whenever that will be. So I shake my head and reach for the phone. "Lil?"

"Mummy...is everything okay?" 

"Yes...but we and the doctor decided the babies will be all right if they come now. So, I've got to stay here to have them, and..." minute pause as another contraction comes and goes, "...and Daddy's going to be here with me. So you'll have to help Nana and Papa pick up Grandma and help them take care of Tyler."

"Are you gonna be brave?" she asks in a tiny voice.

"As brave as I can be, darling...and are you gonna be brave, too?"

"Yep." There's a tinge of confidence in her voice now. 

"Good. Well, then, we'll both be brave together...and as soon as you can, you'll be here to meet the new twins, okay? It'll be fine, sweetie, I promise." 

"Love you," she tells me.

"Love you," I respond. In the background I can hear my son exuberantly, cheerily singing, "Happy burday to YOU, happy BURday to you, happy burDAY da babies, HAPPY BURDAY TO YOU!" Lil disconnects the call and I can easily see her in my mind's eye sighing and watching him in exasperation. I'm laughing again, though, and it alleviates my fears and concerns. For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer...I didn't hear the part in the promises I made to my husband either time, in the first marriage or in the renewal of our vows, 'in calm and in chaos', but surely I must have agreed to them somewhere.

Russell rolls his eyes as he takes the receiver from me and hangs it up. "Same old stuff," he says. "The usual craziness, I see." 

I tell him about Tyler's raising his voice in song to celebrate the babies' birthday, and he laughs, too. "The little guy's got a personality that just won't quit," he comments.

"He takes after you, my love," I tell him. I'm wondering who Emily and Jaden will resemble, both physically and emotionally; will they be live wires like Tyler or calm and reflective like Lily? Will they look more like me, or like my husband? I guess we'll find that out soon enough here and I for one can hardly wait.

A few hours go by, during which the contractions grow increasingly stronger and closer together. Eventually, I get my epidural, which makes me more comfortable, although the babies still aren't any closer to coming and I wonder how long this will go on. Labor with twins is, we found out, often a lot longer than that for a single baby, and my biggest concern is for their safety and well-being.

Dr. Connor comes in to do another ultrasound and check the babies' position. He's quiet for awhile, moving around to check the image, and Russell and I just wait to hear what's going on, as even after all this time we still aren't able to make much out of the black and white, blurred images.

Finally, he turns off the machine and checks their heart monitor. "First off, their heart rates are really good, strong and healthy; they're hanging in there and that part of it looks good."

We look at each other, hearing more in what he's not saying than in what he is. "But...?" Russell prompts. 

"I don't like the positioning of these two," he confesses. "They've both dropped down quite nicely since we admitted you...but the problem is, they've both dropped down. In other words, they're both trying to come down at once, and the two of them are sort of beginning to be wedged into your pelvic area...I don't think you will be able to push one of them forward ahead of the other on your own, and to be honest, I don't think we can push one of them back, without causing a bit of agitation to either of them. It's too risky...what I recommend is a cesarean, get them here safely and with the least amount of trauma and trouble to you or to them. I'm sorry. I know how much you wanted to do this on your own."

Although he's trying so hard to conceal it from me, I can plainly see the fear in Russell's eyes. He lifts my hand in his and kisses it. I can feel the fear begin to rise up within myself but attempt to calm myself down; remembering that anything I feel can easily be transmitted to the babies. It's my responsibility to protect them and keep them sheltered; to bring them into the world safely, as Dr. Connor said, and that's what I need to concentrate on right now. "They're both stubborn," I try to joke to my husband, "just like you. Trying to see who gets here first."

He gives me an I-don't-think-that's-funny look. I sigh and ask, "When?"

"As soon as possible. I'm already getting the teams into position in the OR," Dr. Connor explains (each twin is to have an attending pediatrician and nurse, just to be safe; common procedure for twin births, I'm told), "and I don't see any reason to prolong this any further. I think by now, we all want them to get here. So, I'm going to give you two a moment, and then we'll take you off and get you ready." To Russell, "You'll be apart from her during that time, getting scrubbed and suited up, and then we'll do it."

He leaves us alone. Russell looks at me. "I'm so sorry, love."

"It's all right." It's not, really, but what else can we do? Knowingly, Russ echoes the thought in my mind. "It's not all right, Liss." 

I feel tears come into my eyes and have to fight them back. "Anything to get them here safely, that's all I want now." 

"You're not thinking about yourself again." 

"I can't afford to think of myself right now, honey."

"Then let me think of you." 

I smile, shaky as it is. "You do that all the time anyway."

"I'm a fucking expert at it. So, you worry about them, I'll worry about all of you, and we've got that covered pretty well, right?" I know him so well that I can see he's terrified, but he's also so strong, and right now, I need his strength to be what I cannot. So we don't speak of our fears even though we both know they're there, and we just hold onto each other and wait for the doctor to return.

When Dr. Connor returns, he quickly goes over exactly what to expect and what will happen during the delivery. The three of us actually discussed this a few weeks ago, because there was always a distinct possibility of this occurring, but he wants to make absolutely sure neither Russell nor I have any questions and that we both know what is normal procedure, as normal as can be, in a situation like ours. After he's satisfied we're all right with what's coming next, and we're satisfied that we're as prepared as we're ever going to be, they wheel me out to the operating/delivery room to prep me. Russell's going to get prepped himself and join me; but once he's out of my sight, I feel so lost and so alone. I remind myself that we're all in this together, he and I and Emmy and Jaden, even Tyler and Lily by heart and in spirit and that helps to try to calm and keep me strong.

The operating room is so sterile, full of harsh florescent lighting and a flurry of activity, not exactly the quiet place I had hoped to welcome these children into the world. But everyone is friendly and kind, introducing themselves and explaining what their particular role is in the delivery, and I soon feel I'm among a room full of allies; our number one mission to bring these babies out safely. Most reassuring is Dr. Connor; he's been with us throughout all our ups and downs and so I know he's going to do his best by us.

They put a small curtain up so we won't be able to see what's going on; I'm numb from about mid-chest down anyhow and won't be able to feel much of anything, but as much as I want to meet our kids for the first time I don't exactly want to witness them cutting me open, and I highly doubt Russ does, either. Hooked to IVs and monitors and such, I'm pretty much lying there immobile with my arms resting out on either side of me, an oxygen tube in my nose; waiting for my husband to arrive, and the surgery to begin.

Despite the fact that he's completely covered up in scrubs and a mask and one of those funny paper shower caps, I know the moment he comes in the door. Mostly because I'd recognize his eyes anywhere; that unique mixture of blue and green and gray, deep and beautiful and intense. I see his gaze flicker to all of the equipment, especially the table full of surgical instruments; can still so clearly read the incredible worry and the fear that mirrors mine; but then when he looks at me, his expression gentles and I see nothing but love and strong support there. They have him sit next to me, by my head, on my left, and he leans over to kiss me through his mask. "Are you all right?"

"I'm scared," I whisper. 

"Me, too," he confesses. "We'll have them in just a bit, though." His eyes crinkle up at the corners so I know he's trying to smile. "Hang tough, sweetheart."

"Is everybody ready?" Dr. Connor asks. "What about the Mum and Dad?" When he hears our faint okays, he says, "Well, then, let's have us a couple of babies today, shall we?" Everyone moves into position, as if we'd rehearsed this a dozen times, and it begins.

I try not to concentrate on the sounds that I hear; try to ignore any sorts of sensations I might be feeling. My mind somehow wanders back, throughout everything we've ever gone through together, and I realize in that moment just what an adventure my life with Russell has been. And through it all...even during the pretty bleak moments... he's always stayed with me, never wavering, always with faith and love and so much understanding. My eyes tear up; he must think it's because I'm frightened, for he moves in a little closer. His left hand is resting on my forehead, stroking my hair at the edge of my own funny paper cap; his right is curled round my head on the pillow and he's tenderly brushing the side of my neck with his fingertips, his face low and next to mine.

"I love you," I tell him. I see his eyes grow very suspiciously moist; and though he's not able to say anything just then I can feel the echo of what I've said in his own heart. He closes his eyes and then opens them, nuzzling my cheek; I want so much to be able to reach out and hold him but my arms are still resting there; I've been told to stay pretty still so as not to jar anything.

I can feel some pushing and prodding but it's not painful, although it's a trifle unpleasant. Dr. Connor told us the plan is to go Baby A, Baby B, which means Jaden, then Emily, unless Emily suddenly moves into the primary spot, in which case he would take her first. But I hear him say, "We have a very nice looking little face, here...Jaden, lad, come and meet your mummy and daddy," and then there's a bunch of exclamations as I assume he's being pulled out. Russell half-stands to peek over the curtain just as I hear a rather healthy cry and Dr. Connor says, "Here he is, look up."

I gaze up to see him holding my son above the top of the curtain, who's wonderfully healthy-looking, pink, and squalling quite loudly. He's small but not alarmingly so; it's been a long time since Lily and Tyler but I can remember their births as if it was yesterday. Still, compared to them, I know he's a bit on the tiny side. There's a brief moment before he gets handed off to his team for cleanup and care and then Russell settles in beside me again for Emily's birth.

This one takes a bit longer; I hear Dr. Connor offhandedly say, "She's a stubborn little miss; doesn't want to come out." Then I feel the same sensations; hear him say, "There we go! Finally!" and hear a small cry. "Look up, Liss," Russell says, and I see her, also small and pink, although she's not crying like Jaden was and Dr. Connor hands her over to her team rather quickly.

Jaden's still bawling but I strain to hear Emily, try to crane my head to see where she is. "What's wrong with her?" I ask.

One of the nurses tells us, "She's not caught a good, deep breath yet...we think she might have some excess amniotic fluid in her nose or mouth...they're trying to clear out her airway."

I look at Russell. "Go see what's wrong with her!" I beg him, and he's off to the small warming table where she is. Just as he gets there there's a sort of gurgly cry that clears and rapidly escalates until it's as loud and lusty as her brother. "She's fine," five people, including my husband, reassures me at once, and I feel relief steal over me.

He would come back to me, but I say, "No, make sure they're both all right." I can tell, as he's always been when our children have been born, that he's torn between me and them, but he goes over to see to them. I briefly close my eyes, exhausted and grateful that, once again, we've managed to bring strong, sound children into the world.

I hear a, "You're not sleeping yet, are you?" and open them, turning my head to gaze into the now blissfully quiet tiny face of my second son, swaddled snugly in a blanket with a blue cap on his head, being cradled lovingly by my husband. Somehow I know this is Jaden even though I only caught a glimpse of him earlier. "Here's your Mum, son," he tells him, and I reach my hand out to touch his little cheek.

On the other side, I hear a nurse say, "Someone else would like to meet you," and turn in the opposite direction to see Emily, wrapped the same way, except her cap is girly pink. She's still fussing a little; I guess after she began breathing on her own she wants to make sure I know she's truly okay. When I touch her, though, she calms down, opening her eyes to peep at me. "Hi, sweetheart," I tell her, my trying to divide my attention between the two. The nurse kindly brings her around and places her in Russell's other arm, so he's holding both of them and I can concentrate on seeing all three of them at once.

"They're perfect, Liss, absolutely fine and perfect," he says. Jaden ended up coming in at five pounds, six ounces; Emily, just clearing the five pound mark at five one. Not the six or seven pound mark I had promised him, but healthy nonetheless.

"Good onya, angel," he adds, and I feel a rush of pride, not to mention an intensely overwhelming rush of love. 

After I get stitched up, I'm then moved into Recovery for about an hour. The twins get taken to the well-baby nursery and Russell goes with them to see them safely there; after which he returns to me with the promise that as soon as I'm situated back in my own room, they'll come back to me and he'll also have the family come over. He called not too long after their birth to tell them they'd arrived; but they're waiting until I'm strong enough to see all of them. My mom arrived right on time, too, and I'm looking forward to seeing her, as well as my older kids.

Not too long after being moved into my regular room, though, all of the day's events catch up to me. The last thing I recall is drifting off to sleep while Russell tells me it's okay to get some rest.

When I wake, it's been about another hour; and the first thing I see is Russ, sitting in a chair at my bedside, holding a baby in each arm. It's a sight I immediately store away in my mind and heart forevermore.

He's bent over both of them, cooing to them in that richly husky voice of his, and doesn't notice I'm up. "Baby hog," I tell him affectionately. 

Looking up, he smiles. "What was that?" he asks absently, turning his attention back to our two new bundles of joy. 

"I said, you're a baby hog," I repeat. "I haven't even gotten to hold them yet."

"Well, we'll take care of that." He brings them to me; carefully transferring first one, then the other, into my embrace. Emily's resting in my left arm, Jaden in my right, and finally after all these hours, months, even, I feel the last pieces of the puzzle fit into place with a gentle click.

It's hard to say who they'll take after. Emily resembles Tyler and Jaden Lil as infants; the exact opposite of what I had originally imagined. Though, they truly are an intriguing mix of Russell and me as well as their older siblings. I can't really say definitively that either child resembles any one of us. It will also be interesting as their personalities emerge, to see the qualities that each of them takes from us as well.

I have to admit; I know I'm the mum, but I'm completely smitten with them and think they're beautiful. They're both so tiny that they fit perfectly into my arms; I remember how Russell always tells Lily when she was born he 'caught her like a footy ball' and that's about the size of these two. Neither of them have much hair, but Jaden's is dark brown, like mine, and Em's is a surprising sort of russet color, like her dad's gets sometimes. I'm also pleased to see that both have inherited his perfectly shaped lips. Despite the fact they came four weeks early they don't look in the least premature but rather miniaturized newborns. They're absolutely all right and I send silent thanks to God for that.

They're content where they are and barely stir even when family comes spilling through the door. I'm warmly greeted by my in-laws and my mother; and they exclaim over the twins, and then my attention goes to my other two children.

Lily and Tyler are completely uncharacteristically quiet and shy, standing there hand-in-hand. "Go see the babies," Daddy prompts them, and then they're back to their normal selves, dashing to my bedside and clamoring to take a look. Both Emmy and Jaden peek their eyes open at the sounds of their voices and I know they recognize their older brother and sister immediately.

"They're so cute," Lily says, after they've both been lifted up only after promising to be as still as possible. I'm mellow due to the low dosage of painkillers I'm still on; but ever so mindful that one wrong move could be quite painful. She touches Jaden and giggles when he instinctively latches on to her finger. "He's got me, Mama."

"He likes you." Tyler being Tyler, he's already taken Emily's cap off and is running his hand over her head. "They don't gots lots of hair." 

"Neither did you when you were born, mate." Russell very gently but firmly stops him from manhandling his sister and puts Em's cap back on her head. "They've got to stay warm, okay?"

"So, what do you think?" I look at them, who are looking at the babies, with both babies looking right back. These four are going to be inseparable, not that they weren't already.

"I love them, Mum," is Lily's consensus. 

"We can keep 'em," is Tyler's. Everyone laughs and he gets a slightly puzzled look, as if he can't understand why. 

"Well," I tell them. "I'm definitely hanging on to all of you." I include Russell in my gaze. "All of you, you're definitely keepers." 

After four days to recuperate, the twins and I get to return home. It's still going to take a little bit of time before I feel fully functional again, but I'm happy to have everyone safe and sound, and I've got plenty of help with the babies.

My mom and Russell's parents of course are excited they've got two new grandchildren to spoil; in fact, most of the time we're all fighting over who gets to hold one or both of them. Emmy and Jaden, for the most part, don't care one whit about who that might be; as long as they're warm, snuggled and loved.

Lily has become a mini-mum for sure, just as Russell has always teased her. She's got two great big real baby dolls to play with now; she loves to help tend them and give them their bottles or pacifiers. I'm breastfeeding both of them; which is quite interesting, but since there's two instead of just one, like I'm used to, we're also using supplemental bottles of formula, so everyone can help out and I'm not so overwhelmed.

The depression that I suffered after Tyler's birth simply never came back; I think it's due to the fact that my life's so full with four kids, and that I'm just plain blissfully happy. Not that I wasn't with him, so I feared it'd come creeping back; but Russell made me promise that if I ever began to feel blue I'd let him know. So far, though, so good.

Overnight with the arrival of the twins, Tyler suddenly became the little guy, as we'd always teasingly called him. The baby of the family no longer, he's still his totally irrepressible self, which I wouldn't wish any other way, but he's matured and turned into quite the little helper along with Lil. He'll come get me if one or both are crying, and then he'll hover until he's sure that they're okay. I notice that Emily in particular has a special affinity for her big brother, and whereas her personality seems to be more like Lily's, I look forward to finding out how that relationship develops later on down the line.

They're actually both pretty mellow babies at this point. They're calm and happy; only crying when they need something, and even that's pretty sedate because they know there's always a nearby family member to cuddle up with. Russell and I quickly got them set on a schedule together that makes things amazingly easy to take; and they adapted to it well and immediately. Any fears or doubts we might have had about having two little ones quickly melted away once they took to the schedule. Later on, of course, things by nature can't be regimented, but I expect we'll deal with them as always---with humor and a whole lot of love.

Russell is my rock, my source of strength, just as he's been forever. He's my inspiration and my greatest joy, next to these kids, and I know he'll be there beside me for the duration of the roller coaster ride that's our life together.

We've had Jaden and Em for nearly a month now. Today is special because they had their checkup and we got the green light to finally go back to the sanctuary of the farm. We're going back just in time for my and Lily's joint birthdays; my mom's still here and the rest of my family is due to arrive in the next couple of days. We'll be bursting at the seams but never happier.

Russell and I just did the last check to make sure everything we need got packed, except for the kids. The twins are resting on the floor in their carriers, ready to be loaded in for the short trip to the airport and the jaunt home; Lily and Tyler kneeling there in front of them, keeping them occupied and content.

We stand there for a moment, looking at all of them. "I think we did mighty good," he tells me. 

"They ARE a lovely bunch, aren't they?" I ask him, completely and unashamedly biased. "C'mon, Elvis, let's go home to Graceland."

He gives me a wry look, a grin, and a swat on the rear; then we're off, each one of us with a baby and an older child in tow. 

Home. Home at last.