We write this from the NICU, where Button and Bear are settled in bays 14 and 15, their isolettes tucked under blankets and alive with wires, blinking lights, and two small girls.

For the moment, this is their home. It is here – rather than within the vague charcoal sketches of an ultrasound – that we will watch them bloom. We are keeping a list of all that can be considered a gift right now, and this is one: That we are able to see them, to meet them, to know them, in person and ohso much sooner.

Here is what we know about them now.

How and who they are:

Bear (aka Baby B): In utero, Bear was bigger and – by appearances – bolder. She spent most days tickling her sister’s nose with her toes or laying her long legs across Button’s face right in time for an ultrasound photo.

Out of the womb she’s having a harder time. The doctors tell us this is typical of the “stronger” twin; they’re not accustomed to struggling and to the stress of faulty umbilical wiring, so life outside is not an improvement. As such, Bear’s breathing has been labored since birth, and efforts to keep her oxygenated preoccupy most her care. Two nights ago her physician discovered she suffered from a pneumothorax, a type of collapsed lung in which some tiny air sacs have become overinflated and burst, causing air to leak into the chest wall. A chest tube has been inserted to remedy the leak, and the hope is that in a week or so the air will have been sufficiently displaced and the tube can be removed.

For now, Bear needs to be sedated much of the day to alleviate her pain. She snoozes sweetly, every so often opening her eyes and making soft eye contact, then settles back to sleep.

Button (aka Baby C): Well, we knew she was scrappy. Button fought so fiercely to grow against great odds, to almost keep apace of her sister despite having a limited share of a very broken placenta. She’s that spirited now.

While awake Button fights against the small straps that pin her wires in place; while napping Button fights unseen combatants, her little fists furled, her eyes busy under smooth new lids. We know this bravery got her this far, and we hope she learns soon that it’s safe now to rest.

Button requires a CPAP to assist her breathing, a short-term solution while she develops the surfactants needed to expand and contract her lungs all on her own. But despite this complication, today has a banner headline: She was held! By Casey! Her nurse told us it’s safe to try kangaroo care, to hold her skin-to-skin for an hour or two. And so after some adjustment and some spirited squawks, Button fell into a deep and quiet sleep on Casey’s chest. Calmer than we’ve ever known her.

Coming up:

• Tonight Button will be weighed again for the first time since birth; with her chest tube in place, Bear’s assessment will wait.
• Bear’s chest tube will continue to be monitored for removal as soon as the leak is resolved; once the tube is removed, she can be fed more and – drumroll, world! – she can be lifted out of her isolette and held.
• Tomorrow Meghan leaves the hospital and will join Casey, Lucy, and Jenn at the AirBnB we’ve rented down the road. Given that home is 1.5 hours away, the AirBnB’s proximity will allow us to deliver milk and to be at the NICU every day.
• We’ve nearly caught our breath and finally will be able to address the incredible notes many have shared. The messages have been so beautiful, and so helpful. Good heavens, we are the luckiest family around.