"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
Is there a higher tier above feeling blessed? I feel like I’m floating so far above the world I can see the curve of the horizon. This time, I know the signs - this time I’m a little more prepared for what’s going to happen. My nerves are a little less shaky, which feels great, but I don’t know if they’ll ever go away completely. Sure, Donny and Millie turned out to be the most perfect angels who ever existed on this planet - but I give all the credit to their amazing mother for that accomplishment.
And here she is, doing it again! I am amazed at Eva’s strength and her love, overwhelmed by gratitude and affection for this family we’ve created. I could, and have, talk about them all day every day to anyone who even remotely shows an interest.
Sometimes I have to cut myself off though, like now, as I pace nearby to where Eva’s gone to do be incredible and brave. I’m still hesitant about being there while she’s giving birth - if only to murmur encouragements and give her soft nuzzles. I don’t know what the root of the fear is that holds me back there, whether it’s because I’m worried that’s too intimate for our unique situation or unwilling to make it seem like I don’t think Eva can do that part on her own. I know she can! She’s a goddess from the sea, and I am sure I have not even come close to glimpsing the depths of her strength.
Regardless though - I’m nearby in case she needs me and I drift closer once she’s standing. I can feel it in the back of my throat and in the sting of my eyes when I see them for the first time. Both darker than Donny and Millie, closer to my colouring but still with the flush of purple of their mother. “Eugene and Egwene?” I repeat, voice cracking with the tears I’m not quite keeping under control, and a smile growing as I reach out first to nuzzle Eva before looking once more to this new set of twins, marvelling at how quickly Eva and I have become outnumbered.
But I don’t say that, I can’t really form anything close to a joke right now because I am still so overwhelmed, so bursting with joy. I hope our older twins come along soon to meet their new brother and sister, though I fear my heart won’t be able to take the joy of all of us being together for the first time.
