Nathan Fields.

When I arrived home from work last night, the last thing I expected was to find my pregnant girlfriend in labour on our sofa. Now, seven hours later, Iris is progressing well at seven centimetres dilated, contracting every three minutes.

During her examination upon arrival, her main doctor, Maxwell, suggested having an epidural due to the horizontal position of the baby near her ribs. If the baby flips breach when the other is delivered, which may happen, her doctor will need to reach in and flip the baby for her. After he mentioned that, she didn't let him finish explaining the process and simply agreed.

Iris has yet to ask for the epidural because she wants to get as far as she can without it. Now that she's entering her fourteenth hour in labour, she's getting exhausted, so I doubt it'll be long until she does.

"Do you want me get you more ice?" I ask, taking the cup from her to put on the table next to me.

"I'm okay," she shakes her head with an exhausted smile, "Thank you, though."

"You're doing amazing, baby," I tell her for the hundredth time, taking her hand.

Her head lolls back on the pillow, "I love you."

"I love you more," I press a kiss to her knuckles.

"Oh, fuck, not again," she exhales a deep breath, her face screwing up in pain as yet another contraction rules her body, "I need this to be over, Nath, I feel like I'm dying."

"Squeeze my hand," I insist, and she doesn't hold back in the slightest; she could break my bones for all I care.

"I need the epidural now," she practically begs, and within seconds, she presses the button at the side for a doctor.

The doctors happily give Iris what she wants once the consent form is signed, and they've thoroughly explained the process and all the risks to her. They wait for her next contraction to pass before fitting the epidural, so she can stay completely still for the process.

When she's laid back in bed, a nurse fits a catheter and soon enough, for the first time since her labour started, Iris is out of pain and is comfortable.

"Get in and join me," Iris taps the bed.

"You have seen the size of me, right?" I will not fit in that bed next to her.

"Please?" she pouts her lips.

With not much room, I successfully slide in next to her and, with my arm around her, I hold her close, being insanely cautious of all the wires. She lies her head on my chest, sighing contently and out of curiosity, I look over to the machine that monitors her contractions to see that she's having one right now.

"Can you feel it?" I murmur, bringing my attention back to her.

"It feels like pressure," she looks up at me to reply, "I know I'm having contractions, but it's not painful any more."

"I'm glad, sweetheart," I kiss the top of her head, keeping her close. There's nothing I hate more than seeing the people I love in pain; I felt so helpless just watching her, "I'm so proud of you, baby, you've done so well so far."

"It's not even over yet," she sighs, "I'm terrified to push them out, how am I supposed to do it, Nath?"

"You have a great team of doctors who will help you through it, and your body knows exactly what it needs to do. I know you can do this, sweetheart, you're incredible," I assure her as best as I can, but I feel so out of my depth with this.

It may be the fourth labour I've supported someone through, but there's a drastic difference. Lucy was my best friend, I cared for her and hated seeing her in labour, but with Iris, it's killing me inside to watch. Guilt eats at me for putting her in this position, and I'd do anything to help her.

"I've got this," she whispers to herself, "It'll be all worth it in the end."

"It will," I can't wait for the moment to meet them.

"Last gender predictions?" she suggests with a smile.

"I think it's two girls," I finally cave and tell her something I've thought from the beginning. As much as I'd love a son, I do believe she's carrying two girls.

She gasps, looking at me, "You really think so?"

"Yeah," I say with a chuckle, nodding my head.

"It would be funny if it's true," she says.

"I'd love it," I love being a girl dad so much, they're my entire world.

"So, we agree on the four names?" she checks.

"Yeah, they're perfect."

We've had names picked out for two girls and two boys for a while now, and the only decision we hadn't decided on until recently was what we'd pick if we had one of each gender. It wasn't a hard decision to make, and only time will tell what names will be used.

When a yawn breaks from Iris, I ask, "Do you think you'll be able to get some sleep?"

"I'm going to try; you need to as well," she tells me.

There is no guessing as to how fast Iris will progress from this moment on; the epidural could slow things down, or we could be waking in an hour for her to start pushing. At this point, we need to get as much sleep as possible, especially Iris, even if it's just ten minutes.

✯✯✯

An hour of peaceful sleep soon follows chaos when Iris wakes me with urgency, "Baby, wake up, I feel the need to push; I think the babies are coming now."

"Have you alerted the doctors?" I ask, climbing off her bed to give her more space.

To answer my question, she presses the button to do so, "I woke up a couple of minutes ago, but I've already had two contractions, so that's a good sign, right?"

With a smile, I cup her face, "An amazing sign."

"I hope it's time," she leans her forehead to mine.

"Me too, baby," I murmur, just as the doors open behind me. I leave a chaste kiss on her lips before I move aside for Iris to speak with her doctors.

After a quick examination, Iris is told that she is finally ten centimetres dilated, and is ready to push. At the good news, Iris bursts into tears, and we are given a moment together while the surrounding doctors prepare for delivery.

"I've got you," I hold her hand tightly, brushing her hair out of the way with my other.

She takes a deep breath, "I'm okay, I'm just scared."

"Give me some more of those deep breaths, baby, you're doing great," I encourage as a knot begins to form in the back of my throat.

Maxwell, Iris' doctor, walks into the room and grabs some gloves, "Okay, Iris, are you ready to have some babies?"

"Yeah, I'm more than ready," Iris nods in response.

"I'm going to lift this bed up, and help you shuffle down, is that okay?" he checks.

"Of course," she answers.

Once Iris is in a position that everyone, including her, is happy with, it's now time for her to start pushing. Her left hand holds mine and with her chin tucked to her chest, she pushes for the full ten seconds until she is told she can stop.

Minutes pass by like seconds, and after twenty, Iris shakes her head in defeat, "I can't do this any more, I don't think it's working."

"Iris, listen to me carefully," Max tells her, "What you're doing is working, and it's working very well. I can see your baby's head, they have a lot of hair and after the next push or two, they will be here."

My heart races at the words, and Iris's mouth gapes open, but she closes it again as a contraction comes her way.

"Another big push for me, Iris, right down into your bottom," the doctor encourages her, and with her chin to her chest, she pushes with everything in her, "That's it, your baby's head is out; keep going, Iris."

"You're doing so well," I tighten my hand for her to squeeze.

With one last push, Iris' loud groans are quickly replaced with a gasp of relief and seconds later, a baby is lifted between Iris' legs with a towel. The doctor rubs our baby down until a sweet cry leaves their lips, and I can't help but join in, my tears no longer at bay.

"Congratulations, you two, you've got a baby girl with a good pair of lungs on her," we are finally told, and my heart fills with joy, "Dad, would you like to cut the chord?"

With a nod, I take the scissors and cut where I'm told to, my tears never ceasing. When our baby girl is placed in Iris' arms, her tears turn into sobs, and she says, "Hello, you."

I gently stroke my finger over our baby's cheek with a tearful smile, "You look just like your mommy, little one."

Iris smiles up at me, "We have another girl, Nath."

"She's so perfect," I can't believe how small she is.

Max speaks up again, "Once you deliver the placenta, we will need to start on getting baby number two out, Iris. Baby girl will be in safe hands over here, getting checked during it, if that's okay with you."

For the first time since being handed our daughter, Iris tears her eyes away to answer, "That's more than okay. Do you know if the second baby is breech or not?"

"No, not yet. I'll do a quick ultrasound soon to check, and we'll proceed with the option we're given."

"Okay, thank you," she replies before her attention goes to our baby girl, who begins to stir in her arms. Iris looks at me with a smile, "Would you like to hold your daughter?"

My heart soars at the question, and I eagerly nod, lifting my shirt above my head. Carefully, I lift her from Iris' arms and into my own, holding her against my bare chest. My eyes instantly fill with tears from simply holding my daughter for the first time because I can't quite believe she's here.

"Hello, tiny girl, we've been waiting for you," I whisper, gently stroking her light brown hair, "We need to say goodbye to you for a few minutes because mommy still needs to push your sibling out, but you'll be back with us soon."

"Oh, don't remind me," Iris groans, lolling her head back, "I don't want to do it again."

"I'm sorry," I apologise, sending her a sheepish smile.

A couple of minutes later, Iris delivers the placenta, and it's go time from there to get the second baby out. The ultrasound machine gets rolled closer to the bed, and Max begins to scan her uterus to see what position they're in.

Within seconds of scanning, a sigh of relief leaves Max, "Okay, good news, the baby is head down; they've managed to get into position perfectly, so Iris, you won't be needing my assistance with flipping after all."

"Oh, thank fuck for that," she closes her eyes with relief, "No offence to you and your hands, Max, but I've never been happier to hear that than anything in my life."

I can't stop the laugh that pours out of me, "I can't disagree, to be honest with you."

My initial reaction when I heard that someone's hands had to go inside my girlfriend's body to flip the baby, sent shivers down my spine and thinking about it now still does.

Looking down at my daughter, I sigh, "I need to give you to this other lovely doctor now, so please don't hate me."

Once I hand her over to a doctor called Marie, my attention shifts back to Iris, who is preparing to push again. She quickly takes my hand and tucks her chin to her chest, not waiting around for another minute as a contraction comes her way.

"Right down into your bottom, Iris," Max instructs, and her brows draw together when she pushes harder, "That's it, just like that."

After only Iris' eighth attempt at pushing, Max tells her, "Your baby's head is right here, Iris; I know it's burning, but breathe through it. During your next contraction, give me a massive push, and your baby will be here."

She shakes her head back and forth against the pillow in refusal, "I can't do it, Nath, I can't; it hurts too much."

"Iris, you're doing so well," I move her damp hair out of her face, "You're so close, baby, it'll all be over soon."

"I hate you so much," she cries, "No, I don't, but I thought saying that would make me feel better. It didn't."

"It's okay," I assure her, "I hate me too right now for putting you in this situation."

She exhales a deep breath and tucks her chin ready for her next contraction, "We'll have both of our babies after this. One big push, right?"

"That's right," Max nods.

My eyes flicker over to the monitor and when the reading changes, indicating her next contraction has begun, she squeezes my hand and pushes for the very last time.

With every second of the push, the volume of her groan increases until finally, that familiar gasp of relief from earlier makes a reappearance and the room fills with an instant loud cry from the baby between Iris' legs.

"Another great set of lungs," Max lifts the baby onto the towel.

From the brief glimpse, I manage to see exactly what the gender of our baby is before he can tell us, and I look at Iris with tears in my eyes, "We've got a son, baby."

"It's a boy?" she gasps, bringing her hand to her mouth in shock.

After double-checking, I nod, "He's definitely a boy."

"Okay, dad, are you ready to cut the chord again?"

With a nod, I cut where I'm told to and our son is handed to Iris, just in time for our daughter to join us.

Marie gently places her in my arms, wrapped in a towel, wearing only a pink hat, "She is looking perfect, I have no worries, but we still need to keep them in for observation for the next couple of days since they're premature."

"That's totally okay," I answer, with no issue.

"Can I take their names to write down?" Marie asks.

At the request, Iris and I share a look, and she nods, giving me the go-ahead.

Glancing at my baby's sweet face, I reply, "Our daughter is called Avelie Rae Fields."

"And our son is called Sutton Thomas Fields."

Iris smiles over at me with Sutton laid on her chest, whose eyes are open and searching for food, and when I look down, Avelie lays peacefully in my arms, dreaming away.

There is simply no telling if I've hit my peak in life, but I doubt there's anything that could beat how it is right now. I have a great house, a beautiful girlfriend, five perfect children and a dog who is practically my sixth.

How could life ever get better than this? 

~~~~~

A/N

THE BABIES ARE HERE!!!

Welcome to the fictional world of Silver Lining Avelie and Sutton.

Fun fact if you didn't know, I'm a twin lol!

I loved writing this chapter, I'm not going to lie, I hope you enjoyed it too. 

Only one chapter left...

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