"Want me to take her?" Miles asks.
"No, I've got her. You take Graham back to his bassinet."
We perform the delicate dance of getting both babies back in their bassinets without waking them. It takes approximately ten minutes of careful positioning and held breath.
Both babies stay asleep.
"We did it," Miles whispers.
"Don't jinx it."
We tiptoe out of the nursery like we're defusing bombs. In the hallway, we high-five silently before collapsing into bed.
"Four hours until the next feeding," I say.
"If we're lucky."
"When have we been lucky?"
"Fair point."
I'm asleep before he can respond.
Ten weeks later…
Thursday morning finds me at Preston & Associates in actual work clothes that aren't pajamas. It's one of my two work days per week, and I'm feeling almost human after consuming an entire pot of coffee.
Sarah's giving me a case update in my office. Tom brings me coffee—decaf, still nursing—and sets it on my desk with a knowing smile.
"You look good, boss," he says.
"I'm running on two hours of sleep and spite."
He grins. "Twins will do that."
"You have no idea. Literally no idea."
Sarah laughs. "How are they?"
"Loud. Hungry. Currently six weeks old and already refusing to sleep at reasonable hours."
"Sounds about right." Sarah closes her file. "The Henderson contract finalized yesterday. Morrison case settles next week. Everything's on track."
"You two are miracle workers."
"We learned from the best." Tom gestures at the files stacked neatly on my desk. "These need your signature when you have time. No rush."
I look at the organized office, the competent associates, the sustainable practice I built. I'm making this work—attorney and mom, both at once.
"We've got this, Emma," Sarah says. "Go be with your babies when you need to."
My throat tightens. These postpartum hormones are relentless.
"Stop making me emotional at work."
"Sorry." Sarah doesn't look sorry at all.
Maggie appears in the doorway. "Brennen's on line two. Something about wine tasting at Celtic Knot this weekend?"
