It is seven o'clock. Her babies will not stop crying. As soon as she gets one of her twins settled, the other baby starts fussing. Laundry and receiving blankets draped over all the furniture, a bottle sticking out from between the couch cushions, and the sink is overflowing with dishes. She needs to make supper, but over the crying and through the fog of exhaustion, she cannot think of what to make.

She sits on the sofa, rocking the twin that she can't seem to soothe; the other sleeps in the bassinette beside her. She lets the tears flow. Postpartum was not supposed to be like this. She thought it would be different. She is not the woman who allows her house to get out of control. She is not the woman that does not shower in... how many days?  But tomorrow is going to be different. Through her tears...

She smiles.

Today she called Doulas of Orange County. Tomorrow her postpartum doula is coming—just one more night of take-out, and tears, and tired.

…

It was a long night.

​Or a short night. It depends on how you look at it.

She dresses. Rather, she changes into more presentable pajamas. The phone rings! Her postpartum doula wants to know if she needs anything from the shops. Milk, diapers... She peers into the almost empty fridge. Everything? No problem. Her postpartum doula will help her with a meal plan and the shopping.

Soon after, her postpartum doula arrives. Both babies are adored, and she heads to the bath for a much-needed soak. She luxuriates in the silence. Just water swishing. She conditions her hair and soaks away the tension. When she is finished in the tub, she takes her time, dressing, styling her hair, a little mascara. She feels human again.

In the kitchen, her postpartum doula has loaded the dishwasher, wiped all the counters, and banished the piles of pizza boxes. There is a pot of tea steeping on the counter and a plate of toast. It is for her. The babies who never sleep at the same time are magically content in their swings, so she curls up in her favorite chair and just watches them be.

Her postpartum doula sits down beside her, and together they plan meals based on family preferences. Her doula will whip up a few things for today from what is left in the house, and tomorrow she will pick up the groceries on her way.

One baby is hungry, and she is more than ready to be close to them again. With her postpartum doula's assistance, she tries a new breastfeeding position. While she feeds her baby, her postpartum doula gathers the laundry, sorts it, and starts the wash. She can do this. She knows it now.

That evening she puts her twins into her carrier the way her postpartum doula showed her. Her husband comes in and is blown away by the difference in her. Somehow, she became even more beautiful the day she became the mother of his children. She serves the stew from the slow cooker, and with the babies in their bassinettes nearby, they watch a movie while they eat.

She looks at her little family. She looks around at the house she has made a home. This is her life. Her beautiful life. This moment is perfect. It is everything she dreamed it would be.

She smiles.