Becoming A Dad

My boys, I like to refer to them as mine even though they are our boys (my wife and I), were born in December of 2009 (yay tax breaks!). My amazing wife (referred to as AW from here on) and I knew from early on that we were having twins, and as soon as we could find out, that we were having boys (we didn't want a bazillion gender neutral items as gifts). We'd been trying for over a year and a half before we finally got pregnant. It's funny how I've always said "we got pregnant", when really she was the one that "got" pregnant and did all of the heavy lifting for 9 months.

I had 9 months to prepare myself, and I honestly thought I was ready for anything they could throw at me. AW and I dealt with multiple trips to the hospital for monitoring for some concerns that the OB had prior to the birth. Whether the concerns were founded or not I'm still not totally sure, and after the 5th or 6th trip to sit there for an hour or more AW and I were starting to get impatient.

Finally at 37 weeks and 6 days, what seemed like a long time but felt like a single day, we went to the hospital expected her to be induced and deliver the boys at 38 weeks exactly. As part of the preparation for the induction they do an ultrasound. At this point ultrasounds were still cool, but old news for us as our OB was taking them every few weeks to keep an eye on the boys. This ultrasound started like all the others, they found "Baby A" and saw that he was in the correct position for birth (just like he had been 2 weeks prior), then things got interesting as they started looking for "Baby B." At first they couldn't find him. I thought to myself, "What do you mean you can't find him, he's been there for nearly 9 months, it's not like he snuck out in the middle of the night." Turns out "Baby B", who just 2 weeks prior was head down like his brother and ready to make his grand entrance, had decided to slide up under AW's ribs and take a lateral (laying across from left to right) position. After discussing our options with the Dr. we opted for the cesarean section (C-section) which was the safest way to get the boys out.

I sitting at the head of the operating table telling my AW everything that was happening (since she was strapped down and couldn't see much). From the second I saw A's head I felt something change... It's funny to say and tough to explain, but in that exact nanosecond everything changed. I knew that I was now, more than I had been for the past 9 months, totally responsible for this little beings life. A little bit of me helped make him, he's MY son. I watched as they took him to the warming table and started checking him over. I started bouncing between the warming table and my AW constantly checking on both of them.

Three minutes later they finally convinced O that it was time to be born. Then I had 3 people to worry about. Both boys were doing great, 10 fingers and 10 toes, great APGAR (the scale used to determine a newborns health), crying loud and strong. My AW was doing well too, much better now that she had the 12 pounds of babies and all that came with it out of her. We were quickly moved to the recovery room and got our first quiet moments as a family.

The first few days were rough...two screaming little "bundles of joy" every 1-2 hours. But things quickly improved as we fell into our routine (sleep deprivation and all). Now, five months later, I find it difficult to remember those first few days. People routinely remark (when they see me/us with twins), "Boy, you must have your hands full!" to which I normally reply, "And I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world!"