The raccoons, Zander and Zella, turned four years old yesterday.  Four.  Years.  Old!  Customarily on each childs’ birthday  we recount the day of their birth.  The details surrounding how each child came screaming into the world.  The kids love it, so much so that the stories are often repeated throughout the year.

I should be able to recount the twins’ birth with ease.  A multiple birth after having been through multiple births should stand out.  And yet I have great difficulty doing just that.

I can recall insignificant, peripheral type things.  Like the paramedic student that had asked permission to observe the birth.  I had told the guy, “sure.” Only to have him turned away at the door by the nurse.  “There’s too many people in the room.”

Come to think of it, there was quite the gathering in that tiny delivery room.  As with our previous births, a C-section had been scheduled.  There were two physicians, two neonatologists, two teams of nurses and techs, the anesthesiologist..oh and Maura, me and two little babies.

Maura had been to the hospital the previous evening for some preliminary labwork.  She came home in shambles, nearly frantic.  The neonatologist had told her that if either of the twins had any complications that both would be sent to Children’s Hospital an hour’s drive to the south.

Until that moment, less than twelve hours before our planned C-section, the thought that anything could go wrong had never occurred to us.  The pregnancy had been completely normal.  Not a single problem throughout.  Both babies were growing as expected and all tests and ultrasounds had been nothing short of perfect.

“You mean, even if they need oxygen for a day or two?”

“Yes,” she told me through her tears.

Calls were made and contingency plans put in place.  I’m sure I put gas in the car but I don’t recall doing so.  I’m fairly certain we did not sleep.

Unbeknownst to us, the hospital staff had also spent a rather sleepless night.  The neonatal ICU was at capacity, yet they were making arrangements to accommodate us.  To accommodate Maura.  An electrician worked late into the night running power to support an additional infant bed.  Extra staff had been called in.

We arrived at the hospital in the wee hours of the morning, anxious, numb and completely exhausted.  The nursing staff had let us know that they had made arrangements to keep the twins there unless, of course, anything really serious was going on.

It helped set our minds at ease yet only minimally.

The scene in the delivery room can only be described as chaotic.  Not that there was a heightened state of emergency but simply because it was crowded.  Dang there were a lot of people in that room!

The procedure, however, could not have been more smoothly organized.  Well, except for the 4-5 minutes that we, yes we, had to breathe for Maura.  She had continually complained that she was still “feeling that!” and by the time the anesthesiologist achieved numbness, she had achieved near coma-ness.  I’m standing there holding an ambu bag, breathing for Maura, the anesthesiologist is titrating medicine and all the while I’m trying to observe the birth  of my children praying that nothing goes wrong there.

Surreal?  Yeah, kind of.

Anyway, the birth.

Zella came first.  Butt first.  Choose your allegory there, people I’m just saying how it was.  Zander followed a minute later and for the life of me all I can remember is that he looked relieved.

Apgars and other significant birthing details have escaped me.  But this I do recall.  Two pink, healthy babies crying like pink, healthy babies should.

Oh, and this.  Typically after the birth the children are taken to the baby ward for their initial assessments and a quick bath.  Our stay in the delivery room was delayed, however.  In all of the hospital’s frantic anticipation of preparing a spot in the NICU, there were no beds ready in the regular well-baby ward.

Zander and Zella were the two healthiest kids in the hospital!  Not even five minutes into the world and they’d already started exceeding expectations.

And they’ve done so with aplomb over and again these past four years.  The happiness and sheer joy those two have brought into my life has far exceeded any in my wildest dreams.

Happy Birthday,  Zander and Zella.  My two little raccoons.