“Let’s check you,” she says, slipping on a rubber glove. “You’re ten centimeters and fully effaced. Let’s have some babies,” she says. Matt runs both of his hands through his hair and breathes deeply. Reagan calls in some additional nurses and positions the stirrups for my feet so I can begin pushing.
“I’m not going to lie, Lindsay; this is going to hurt like hell. Focus on pushing and seeing your babies, not the pain.” I opted to do a drug-free delivery. I know I’m insane, but for me, it was important to steer clear of any narcotics.
Matt leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead and squeezes my hand. “This is it, Linds. It’s no longer just you and me.” I smile at him and begin pushing. Forty minutes later, we are now a family of four with the addition of Liam and Noah. Matt goes with the nurse and the babies to the NICU while Reagan stays with me.
“Good job, Lindsay. That was tough, but you did it.” I nod my head, too tired to reply. The nurse has administered some extra strength ibuprofen through the IV line to help with the pain and I finally begin to relax a little. “They look perfect. The pediatrician will keep them for a few hours and monitor them, but if everything is good, they’ll be able to come back to the room for a while. They will want you to try and nurse if you’re up for it.”
I close my eyes and rest while more nurses come and go, checking my vitals and changing my IV bag. I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep when Matt kisses my forehead, waking me up. He’s pushed a bassinet into the room where both boys are swaddled and sleeping next to each other.
“They’re perfect, Linds. Perfect,” he repeats. He picks up the first baby and hands him to me. “Noah. He’s got the darker hair.” I push the little beanie aside and see just a small tuft of dark hair on top of his head. “And Liam. He has the dimpled chin.” I spend the next few minutes inspecting my babies and kissing them. There is nothing sweeter than the smell of a newborn. I nurse and Matt changes the boys’ diapers as we settle in to a quiet little routine at the hospital.
When Landon, Reagan, the girls, my mom, and Louis have all come and gone, I realize this is the first time my room has been quiet for the last twenty-four hours. Matt has fallen asleep upright in the chair next to the bed, cradling each swaddled baby boy in the crook of each of his arms. I snap a quick picture with my phone and lower the back of my bed so I can rest for a bit.
My heart is bursting with love for Matt and our new family. Two and half years ago, I never would have imagined that this would be my life—married to the man of my dreams with two baby boys. As I close my eyes, I whisper a prayer of gratitude for all that I have and for all that has led me to where I am today. Learning to process my emotions—drug free—while balancing my career and personal life was the biggest hurdle I had to overcome; however, making amends with those I’ve hurt was the most painful. While I’m healthy today, my past battle with anorexia will always be in the forefront of who I am. The most important lesson I’ve learned is that forgiveness is a beautiful gift to give, but an even more beautiful gift to receive.