The Parent Trip: Stephanie Orphanides and David Orphanides of Center City

She liked the way he talked to his dogs, his salt-and-pepper hair, his casual cargo pants, and the way he stood - a little awkward and surprised - when he stopped by her outdoor table at La. Va Café.

They'd seen one another before, walking their dogs in the Graduate Hospital neighborhood where they both lived. On their second date, Stephanie recalls, "I told him I was going to marry him. I was very matter-of-fact and comfortable with it. He was speechless."

She wasn't fazed by the 17-year gap between their ages or by other differences: David was a vegetarian at the time, while Stephanie was an omnivorous foodie; his dogs, Argo and Onyx, were 90-pound poodles, while her Shih Tzu, Benny, looked toy-size in comparison.

The dogs, remarkably, got along. And so did the couple. They continued to date even after Stephanie moved to San Francisco. After a year of flying back and forth every two weeks, they wearied of the long-distance drill and broke up. Meanwhile, Stephanie lived on Telegraph Hill and then in Los Gatos; she toured Australia and Bali.

She relished those jaunts - yoga retreats, nutrition seminars for her job as a wellness consultant. "But I was doing a lot of it alone - or, at least, with people who weren't necessarily my future or my family."

On a visit back to Philadelphia - she had kept her house here and checked on it periodically - Stephanie ran into David on her old street. They picked up their courtship, but not exactly where they'd left off. Terrain had shifted in both their lives: Onyx had died. Stephanie had turned 30. David was cofounding a restaurant, Fare. And both had realized they wanted children.

In her 20s, Stephanie had yearned for kids. Then career and globe-trotting adventures nudged that dream aside. "I turned 30, and all of a sudden, I was ready. It felt biological. In Bali, the leader of a women's retreat told me I wasn't going to have kids anytime soon. I remember being really disappointed and saddened about that."

A month into their "reprise" relationship, Stephanie was scheduled to fly back to Los Gatos to pack her house there. In the airport check-in line, she began to sob. "I said to myself, 'I can't get on this plane.' I took a cab back and surprised David at a community meeting.

"And I got pregnant with our son a few days later."

Suddenly, their lives raced forward: a positive pregnancy test that Stephanie gift-wrapped and presented to David with a congratulations card July 8, 2011, an elopement six weeks later in Laguna Beach. Through the humid summer, Stephanie craved crab legs, avoided artificial food coloring, and practiced yoga. "I felt like I was floating around the city, walking on air."

David, meanwhile, wondered how they would manage it all: his practice as a real estate lawyer, the new restaurant, extensive home renovations, and an infant. "I wanted to have a family - but maybe not right at that moment."

When an ultrasound scan revealed that the baby was a boy, Stephanie convinced David that Sebastian - protagonist in The NeverEnding Story, a popular movie of her childhood - was the perfect name. His middle name would be Dale, for Stephanie's father, who died in a plane crash at 28.

The couple had planned a home birth; a few days before her due date, Stephanie felt some sensations in her hips and back, followed by an overwhelming urge to clean the house. "When I found myself in the laundry room, on all fours, trying to manage contractions, I thought, 'Maybe I should tell somebody.' "

By 1 o'clock, she'd summoned David and her midwife. At 2 p.m., Sebastian was born. And by 4:30, they were lounging on their bed, channel-surfing, an infant swaddled between them.

"It was so fast," David recalls. "There was no time to think, 'OK, you're going to have a family.' In a blink of an eye, we went from one condition to another."

"It was a wonderful experience. Exhilarating," Stephanie says. "I said to David and the midwives, 'Let's do it again!' "

They did, almost three years later. This time, the midwife arrived at 10:15 in the morning, Stephanie's water broke at 10:16, and the baby emerged, after three pushes, at 10:26. For 10 days, they called him "Baby Brother" until they finally settled on Alexander - a nod to their Greek roots - and Beau, in honor of David's mother, Barbara.

The couple appreciate the synchronicity - both boys' first names have nine letters, both middle names have four, and they share a cadence. But the likeness between their sons ends there.

"Sebastian was born very alert and aware," says Stephanie, "a very spirited, energetic being," the kind of kid who is already a local celebrity, on a first-name basis with the guys at the coin laundry, the barista at Ants Pants Cafe. Alexander, by contrast, is "my little Buddha baby, very zen."

Stephanie misses the intensity of her bond with Sebastian, her exuberant toddler-buddy for neighborhood walks and twice-yearly trips to Aruba, where her mother has a house. "Now, it feels like Sebastian and David are the team, and I'm on the outside, with the baby."

There are moments when all four are in sync: The Sunday before Christmas, both kids remained quiet through a Quaker meeting, relished the North Pole Express train ride in New Hope and then - hallelujah! - napped at the same time in the car.

But most of the time, family life is their own never-ending story, an alchemy of intuition, happenstance, and will. An equation in which one plus one turns out to be something more complicated than two. There is more love, but less time. Their joy at the baby comes braided with loss: no more only-child, no more cozy triad. The family is bigger. "And the bed," Stephanie says, "feels a lot smaller now."

If you've become a parent - for the first, second or fifth time - within the last six months, e-mail us why we should feature your story: parents@phillynews.com.

Giving birth, adopting, or becoming a stepparent or guardian all count.

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