Tears of happiness stream down Henley’s face as she cradles our son while I watch on in awe. I’ve never seen a sight so fucking beautiful.
The midwives rush around getting towels for our son to start cleaning him up and keeping him warm while Henley and I look on with our hearts on our sleeves. “Hello, my baby boy,” Henley sobs, working hard to reel in her emotions. “You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever met. I love you so much.” She glances up at me with a beaming smile. “Do you see how beautiful he is?”
“Yeah, Spitfire. I do. He’s perfect,” I say, leaning down and pressing my lips to hers. “You did it. You’re so fucking incredible.”
“It hurt so much,” she murmurs against my lips.
“I promise you, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”
Henley nods as I pull back and both our eyes instantly fall back to our son. “Does he have a name?” one of the midwives questions as Dr. Branson works on something between Henley’s legs.
I glance down at my wife. “Do you want to do the honors?”
She smiles wide as she wipes the tears off her face. “This is Elijah Harrison Cage,” she announces proudly as all eyes fall back to our son.
He cries on Henley’s chest and my heart shatters in all the best ways. It’s the voice of an angel; the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.
A midwife scoops Elijah up off Henley’s chest and holds him in front of Dr. Branson so she can take a good look. “You look just perfect,” she tells him. “Ten fingers and ten toes, but you need to go get weighed and measured while we say hello to your brother.”
Henley sighs. “Already?”
Dr. Branson nods. “Unfortunately, yes. Twin number two is ready to go.”
With that, Branson sends the midwife with Elijah over to the side to the room to focus on getting him fixed up with all eyes falling back to Henley, though don’t get me wrong, not a second goes by that I’m not aware of exactly where Elijah is in this room.
“It’s just one more time,” Dr. Branson tells Henley. “Now you know what it feels like to hold your child in your arms, so I promise, with that in mind, it will make round two just that bit easier, alright?”
Henley nods, taking a deep breath and mentality prepares to tear herself apart for the second time in a row.
This has been the moment that Henley has been most anxious about during the whole pregnancy. The second she found out it was twins, she was nervous that after going through hell pushing one baby out, that she wouldn’t have the strength to push the second, but she was anxious for nothing.
Dr. Branson is right and I see it all over Henley’s face. The second she held Elijah in her arms, her world fell right into place and she knew that being a mother was what her purpose in this life really was. She would do anything and everything to protect her babies, even if it means going through a second childbirth just moments after the first.
Henley is a fucking Rockstar and no matter what, she’s going to kill this. Though, that doesn’t mean that she hasn’t been panicking about raising two babies. She was hoping they were girls because she thought girls would be easier to deal with, but just like me, she could feel it in her gut that they were boys and the thought of raising two kids who are no doubt going to be just like me is kind of terrifying. I don’t know what I’d do if these babies ever got themselves in the kind of shit that I used to get myself into.
Shit, maybe it’s time I gave my parents an apology.
Everyone gets back into position and less than five minutes later, we have baby number two placed gently upon Henley’s chest.
She cries tears of joy, knowing all the hard work is over as she cradles our second son. “They’re exactly the same,” she tells me with a soft chuckle.
“How can you tell?” I grin, looking down at him as the midwife works on cleaning him up. “He’s covered in all your gooey insides.”
“I can just tell,” Henley tells me as the midwife with Elijah brings him around and places him in my arms, making me weak at the knees. “They’re exactly the same.”
I bring Elijah down and place him beside his twin brother and despite his brother still being covered in all sorts of stuff, Henley’s not wrong; they’re identical. So identical that this is no doubt going to fuck me up. I’m going to have to get them name tags or dress them in different colors.
Henley’s arms wrap around the both of them, needing to hold both her babies as Dr. Branson finishes between her legs. “So, who’s this little handsome guy?”