Epilogue
KENNA
The early morning light filters through the curtains, casting long shadows across the room. I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, my stomach swollen with the weight of two little lives growing inside me.
The twins.
It still feels like a dream, this strange and beautiful reality we’ve stepped into. Not so long ago, we were reeling from the shock of finding out it wasn’t one baby, but two. Two tiny heartbeats racing side by side inside me. And now, here we are. On the edge.
The house is quiet, peaceful, but I can already feel the shift in the air. The twins are restless today. I can feel the gentle pokes and prods of tiny hands and feet moving in the comfort of my belly.
Every shift of their bodies makes me smile, even though I’m feeling the discomfort of carrying them.
My back aches, my feet swell, and I can’t sleep as soundly as I used to. But in a way, I’m savoring every moment, knowing this time is fleeting.
My hand instinctively cradles my stomach, fingers tracing the curves beneath the soft fabric of my nightgown.
These moments, even with the aches and swelling feet, the sleepless nights and growing pains, feel sacred.
The discomfort is real, but so is the miracle.
My back aches, a dull reminder of the physical toll, but my heart is full.
I glance sideways and find Cole still asleep beside me. His breathing is deep and even, chest rising and falling in the quiet rhythm of rest. A moment of peace before the storm, I realize. I want to savor this second of calm before everything changes forever.
I wish I could sleep longer, but the contractions have started. Not strong yet, but they’re there. The familiar tightening across my belly, the waves of discomfort that come and go.
I’ve been here before with Cohen. Labor is not something you forget, but with the twins everything feels different.
When the next wave hits, sharper this time, my hand tightens around the sheets. It’s no longer a question.
I nudge Cole gently, my voice trembling as I say, “Cole…I think it’s time.”
His eyes flutter open instantly alert. The grogginess fades away when he sees the look on my face. His hand is immediately on mine, gripping it. “Are you sure?”
I nod, trying to breathe through the discomfort that’s picking up in intensity. “Yes. It’s time.”
In a flurry, he’s out of bed, moving swiftly around the room, grabbing our bags, phone, and everything we’ve prepared for this moment. His movements are calm, methodical, but I can see the excitement and nervousness in his eyes. This is it. Our lives are about to change forever.
The contractions are coming closer now, each one more powerful than the last. I try to focus on my breathing, leaning against Cole for support.
He’s talking to me, telling me everything’s going to be okay, keeping me grounded.
His voice is steady, even though I can tell he’s just as anxious as I am. The twins. We’re about to meet them.
I cling to those words because deep down I know this will change us in ways we can’t yet imagine.
By the time we’re in the car and heading to the hospital, I’m gripping Cole’s hand so tightly that my knuckles are white.
Each contraction is sharper now, and the anticipation is overwhelming.
We’re about to have two babies. Two new hearts to love, to care for, to shape into incredible little humans.
At the hospital, everything moves quickly. Nurses rush around, taking my vitals, preparing the room for delivery. Cole never leaves my side, holding my hand and offering words of comfort, though I can see the way his eyes are darting around, searching for any sign that everything’s okay.
He’s been so strong throughout this pregnancy, always the calm in my storm. I watch the flicker of worry in his eyes as he tries to mask it with reassurance for me, but I see it all.
The doctor’s voice breaks through the blur. “You’re dilated enough now, Kenna. Time to push.”
Pain, sharp and fierce, floods my body. But I know this dance; labor is an old song to me now. I breathe, I push, I fight.
“Kenna, you’re doing great,” the nurse encourages. “Just a few more pushes.”
I nod, squeezing Cole’s hand harder, my face flushed with effort. Hearing the babies’ strong, steady heartbeats helps me stay grounded. I push again, feeling the pressure build, the pain of each contraction mixing with the exhilaration of bringing these two little ones into the world.
And then—relief.
A tiny cry fills the room. A boy. He’s here. My heart races as the doctor gently lifts him up and places him on my chest. He’s warm, soft, and perfect. I can hardly believe it. The little person I’ve been dreaming of for months is finally in my arms.
His face is scrunched up, eyes closed tight, and in that moment, I know he is mine, he is ours. Our son. Cash. The first of our twins.
But there’s no time to rest. I know a second baby is coming soon. The contractions pick up again, sharper, faster. I feel a familiar pressure and know this baby isn’t far behind. Cole is still holding my hand, his face full of awe as he looks at our son in my arms.
“You did it, Kenna,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.
Before I can respond, I focus back on the task at hand, ready to bring our second baby into the world. I take a deep breath and push once more, my body working tirelessly, the world around me fading into a blur of focus and intensity.
The second cry follows soon after, louder and fiercer—a girl. Capri.
The nurse places her on my chest next, and I look down to see her—the perfect little girl with dark hair, squirming in my arms, her cry strong and sweet.
My heart swells as I gaze at her, at both of them.
My twins, the babies I’ve carried for so long, the ones who’ve shared my body, and now, the ones who will share my life.
Cole’s eyes are glistening with tears as he watches me hold her close, two perfect new lives cradled against my heart.
“You did it, Kenna,” he whispers, voice cracking with awe and love.
I laugh through tears, overwhelmed but whole. “They’re perfect,” I whisper back, knowing this moment will live inside me forever.
Later, after the nurses clean us up and take the babies for their first checkup, Cole and I sit together in the quiet of the room.
The twins are sleeping peacefully in the bassinets beside us.
We’re exhausted, but there’s a contentment in the air, a peace that comes with knowing our family is finally complete.
We look at each other, and in that moment, I know that this is it.
This is what we’ve always wanted. Two beautiful children, a perfect little family.
Cohen is going to be the best big brother, already making plans for how he’ll teach the twins everything he knows, from riding bikes to playing video games.
The joy in his eyes when he first met them today was enough to make my heart ache.
“Can you believe it?” Cole asks softly, his voice full of amazement. “We have three kids now.”
I smile, running my fingers through his hair as I lean in to kiss him. “I can’t believe it, but I wouldn’t change a thing.”
Our twins. Two little lives that have already brought so much love, so much joy, into our world.
I feel so incredibly blessed. The future is bright, and the love I have for my family fills me with a peace I never knew I could feel.
We’re not just a family anymore. We’re an adventure waiting to unfold.
The hospital room is quiet, save for the soft hum of machines and the gentle whispers of nurses moving about.
The twins are nestled peacefully in their bassinets, and Cole and I are sitting together on the edge of the bed, each of us gazing down at the little bundles of joy we’ve only just met.
Our hearts are full, overwhelmed with the love we feel for these two tiny humans we’ve been waiting for.
But the moment we’ve been anticipating is finally here. Cohen is about to meet his new siblings.
I glance at Cole, his face still full of the awe he’s had ever since the babies were born. He reaches over and squeezes my hand, his fingers warm against mine.
“Are you ready?” I ask him softly, the excitement building in my chest. “Are you ready for Cohen to meet them?”
Cole nods, his lips curving into a smile. “I think he’s going to be more than ready. He’s been asking about them non-stop since we left the house.”
We both chuckle at that. Cohen’s been talking about the twins constantly, imagining what they’ll be like and what it will feel like to finally meet them. It’s adorable, really. I know he’s going to be an amazing big brother.
Just then, the door to the room creaks open, and Cohen steps inside. His eyes immediately widen when he sees us, and then his gaze lands on the babies.
“Mom! Dad!” His voice is full of excitement and a little bit of nervousness. “Are they really here? Are they...are they twins?”
I nod, smiling at him. “Yeah, bud. They’re here. They’re your little brother and sister.”
Cohen’s eyes widen, and he steps closer to the bassinets, his hands clasped in front of him. “I can’t believe it. I thought...I thought they’d look like babies, but they’re even cuter than I imagined!” He laughs, a bit of relief in his voice.
Cole and I exchange a look, both of us chuckling at Cohen’s words. There’s something about his excitement that makes everything feel even more real.
“Do you want to meet them, Cohen?” I ask, my voice soft with affection.
He nods vigorously, his feet practically bouncing on the floor. “Yes! Yes, please!”
With a careful hand, I lift our son from the bassinet. His tiny body feels so fragile, but I can’t help but marvel at how perfect he is. How perfect they both are. Cohen watches me, wide-eyed, as I gently place the baby in his arms, guiding him on how to hold him.
“His name is Cash,” I tell Cohen, smiling at the way his hands tremble slightly as he cradles his baby brother. “He’s your little brother, Cohen.”