Monday, December 24, 2007

When they left the hospital with their newborn twins that spring day nearly two years ago, Maggie and Kevin Beirne felt they could at last begin their life together as a family.

For five anxious weeks, they seemed to live at Holy Cross Hospital in Silver Spring, where their twins were born two months premature and confined to plexiglass cocoons until they were strong enough to go home.

On the afternoon of Dec. 1, Maggie and Kevin were rushing back to Holy Cross -- this time in an ambulance, sirens wailing. While hanging Christmas decorations, Maggie, 31, had a massive seizure and a heart attack. She had slipped into a coma.

Early on, doctors were hopeful she would recover, and Kevin, 30, allowed himself to believe she was going to make it. But a few days after arriving at Holy Cross, Maggie took a turn for the worse.

On the morning of Dec. 6, with about 20 of her family and friends around her and Kevin holding her hand, Maggie died.

She was 31 years old, with a freckled face and a hint of red in her light brown hair. She worked as a social worker for the District, helping foster children. She and her husband met during a Habitat for Humanity trip on spring break while they were students at Catholic University. Maggie was given to thoughtful gestures, her friends and family recalled, such as when she made the babysitter cry by dressing Betsy and Martin in T-shirts that read, "We love Sheila."

Friends and family remembered how she sang along to Bon Jovi with her car windows rolled down and took control of the DJ table at weddings. She used the bridesmaid's dress she wore at her sister's wedding as the trim for a blanket she made for her niece. She loved Mafia movies, not for the violence but for the family dynamics. She wanted a wreath for Christmas because it was something the whole family could share.

In 2003, Maggie had an episode that doctors believed might have been a seizure, Kevin said. She showed no ill effects, so they assumed everything was fine.

Dec. 1 had started out as such a nice day. Maggie and Kevin enjoyed their Saturday by playing with the kids in the living room of their home in Kensington until it was time for Martin's and Betsy's afternoon nap. Maggie decided to use the down time to decorate the Christmas tree -- a surprise for the children when they awoke -- and get some laundry done. They would have a quiet dinner, maybe pizza.

These were the times she was happiest -- at home, with her kids and husband, Kevin said. "Our lives became so focused on right here," he said, sitting in his living room. "We rarely went out to dinner. We'd rather just stay home as a family."

Maggie, who was featured in a 2006 Washington Post Mother's Day story, juggled parenthood with her work as an administrative review specialist with the District's Child and Family Services Agency. Kevin is the head of the English Department at St. John's College High School in the District.

"She held everything together," Kevin said.

Maggie made sure Martin and Betsy were always on a routine, and that meant she'd make sure they were wearing their "sleep sacks" before she and Kevin would read them their bedtime story.

Kevin and Maggie had read "Goodnight Moon" so many times they not only memorized it but also laced their own twists into the text. They inserted Betsy and Martin into the story and added a "Goodnight Momma" and a "Goodnight Daddy." Then Kevin would take one of the kids, Maggie the other, and they'd put them down for the night.

Last week, after Maggie's funeral in New Jersey, held in the same church where she and Kevin were married, Kevin kept the routine going. He scooped Betsy and Martin into his lap on the couch and began to read.

"In the great green room there was a telephone and a red balloon and a picture of the cow jumping over the moon," he began. He started to choke up when he got to the part when he said, "Goodnight Momma," but he somehow held it together.

When he was finished, it was time to carry his drowsy children to the nursery, which was tricky because he wasn't accustomed to putting them both in their cribs by himself. Cradling Betsy in one arm, he slipped as he laid down Martin, who landed with a slight but harmless thump.

"Sorry, buddy," Kevin whispered. "Be patient with me. I'm still learning how to do this on my own."

-- Christian Davenport The Beirnes' family and friends have started a fund for the children. Go to http://www.beirnefamilyfund.com.