weeks receiving extra medical attention before the doctors were comfortable sending them home.
I was overwhelmed before we even left the hospital.
I barely knew which baby I had fed last.
Every surface seemed covered in bottles, blankets, paperwork, diapers, and instructions.
Still, I was happy.
Exhausted, but happy.
We were finally taking our babies home.
Adam had been strangely quiet that morning.
I noticed it, but I told myself he was tired.
Who wasn’t?
When the nurse brought the discharge paperwork, he kept checking his phone.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“You seem nervous.”
“I’m fine.”
I tried to smile.
“We’re actually doing this.”
He looked at the three infant carriers.
His face changed.
I wish I could describe it better.
It wasn’t anger.
It wasn’t sadness.
It looked like panic.
Pure panic.
“Adam?”
He rubbed both hands over his face.
“I just need some air.”
I frowned.
“Now?”
