Our daughter is even louder than her brother, announcing her arrival with impressive volume. She's placed on Emma's chest, and Emma's sobbing now.
"They're here," she cries. "They're really here."
After a moment, the nurse takes our daughter for measurements and hands our son to me. I'm holding him, and I can't form words. Can't do anything except stare at this perfect tiny human who is somehow ours.
"We did it," Emma whispers.
"YOU did it."
"WE did it," she insists firmly.
Our son makes a small sound and I adjust my hold carefully. "Hi. Hi buddy. I'm your dad."
"What are their names? We never really decided." Emma asks, voice still rough with emotion.
I look at her. "Ready?"
"Ready."
Emma smiles through tears. "Meet Gracie and Graham Dawson."
I look at our daughter in the nurse's arms, now swaddled and calm. "Hi Gracie."
Then our son in mine. "Hi Graham."
Then Emma. "They're beautiful."
"You're beautiful."
"We're a family now." Emma's eyes are wet again.
"Best family ever."
Gracie makes another sound. Graham's already asleep, apparently exhausted from being born.
"They're so small," Emma whispers.
"Five pounds each. That's good for twins."
"I can't believe they were both inside me."
"You're amazing."
"I'm exhausted."
"That too."
The nurses finish their measurements and bring both babies back, placing them in Emma's arms. She cradles one in each arm, looking down at them with wonder.
"Hi babies," she whispers. "I'm your mom."
Gracie yawns. Graham makes a small sound.
"They're hungry," the nurse says. "Want to try feeding?"
"Now?"
"Best time to start."
