We look.
Dad stands behind her, giving her bunny ears and making a stupid face, and of course the toddlers crack up. Cody does too, louder than anyone.
Mom’s phone goes off like a woodpecker, snapping what sounds like a hundred pictures a second.
One of them will end up being the picture.
The one that holds everything:
Our first Easter as a family of four. Our village all around us. Every answered prayer standing on this patch of grass.
Our whole world in one frame. Nothing crazy. Just everything that matters.
Bonus Content: The Birth of Lydia and Naomi
Megan
A contraction hits during math centers, and I immediately panic.
I’m crouched beside Tucker’s desk when my entire abdomen tightens—low, deep, unmistakable—and my first thought is,Holy crap. This is it.
It’s happening.
I stand up too fast, hand flying to my belly that weighs one hundred pounds. Well, feels like it, at least.
Sierra glances over from across the room. “You good?”
I nod, but I’m already pulling my phone from my desk drawer, checking the time.
Ten forty-seven a.m.
It could be nothing. Braxton Hicks. I’ve had them before.
But what if it’snotnothing? What if the babies are coming and I’m just standing here like an idiot?
Twenty minutes later, another one comes. Twenty-one minutes apart. That’s not labor; that’s way too long.
But what if it is?
What if I wait too long and something happens?
I think about all the stories I’ve heard—women who didn’t make it to the hospital in time, babies born in cars, in parking lots, at home with no one there to help.
Mason’s delivered a baby before, but not twins. And I don’t think he wants to add it to his resume.
My hands are shaking so badly I can barely hold my phone. Sierra walks over during independent work time. “How far apart?”
“Twenty minutes.”
“Okay. That’s still early.”
“I’m still gonna call Mason real quick.”
“Yeah, go.”
I take my phone out to the hallway, suddenly very aware of every feeling in my body. Like I’m waiting for something major to happen.
Mason answers on the second ring.
