by Cindy Pike
For now, they all return my smile, much brighter than my own.
∞∞∞
Although the plan was to text Kyle and Owen with how the appointment and ultrasound went, I’m putting it off. I want to wait to tell them the news in person but if I text them now, I won’t be able to keep my mouth shut.
Owen couldn’t make it because of a shift at the hospital that he couldn’t get out of and Kyle has a deadline for a high-end order that he can’t push back. He’s already cutting things way too close.
We’re all barely loaded up into the truck when my phone rings. I look down to a picture of a smiling Owen and roll my eyes. I should’ve known they wouldn’t wait long.
“Hey, Doc,” I say as a greeting, keeping my voice light. “What’s cookin’?”
My mind supplies, the buns in your oven. Buns. Plural!
“What’s wrong?” he clips out.
“Why haven’t you called or texted us?” Kyle’s voice jumps in.
Great, a conference call.
“I was about to. We just made it to the truck.”
The kinda-lie comes quicker than I can stop it.
“Out with it, Nora.”
How Owen can always tell when I’m holding something back, I’ll never know.
Before I can answer, my phone is out of my hand and Heath has it at his ear.
“I’ll start by saying that nothing is wrong, but this is something you’re going to want to hear in person.”
While I’m still coming to terms with the turn of events, Heath eases Owen and Kyle’s worries.
What would I do without my men?
I definitely wouldn’t be where I am now.
∞∞∞
I eye the chocolate on the floor like it’s both my greatest enemy and my most beloved friend. My mind runs through the limited ways that I can retrieve it from where it currently lies, too far away from my face for my liking. Why, oh why, did I have to drop it!
If I bend down to pick it up, the chances of me getting back up are slim. These boys are not a fan of cooperating with their mama. But it’s chocolate. A pregnant woman needs chocolate.
Willing to take the risk, I brace one hand on the kitchen counter and maneuver myself into an awkward kneeling squat, just barely managing to snag it. Thankfully, it’s still in its wrapper. If I’m honest, I would have probably eaten it even if it wasn’t.
My prize in hand, I struggle to get to standing. I’m nearly there when Flynn comes in, sees that I’m still struggling, and rushes to help me back up.
I huff and glare at him as he pulls his hands away once he’s righted me. “I could’ve done it.”
“I know. It just makes me feel better to be able to say I helped you.”
He gives me what I’m sure is supposed to be an innocent smile, but I’m not fooled.
To appease my sudden irritation—mood swings come part and parcel with carrying twins—I shove the chocolate in my mouth, sans wrapper.
Flynn smiles wide but wisely doesn’t say a word.
With his hand on my lower back, he walks me to the living room and helps me lower myself onto the couch. Who would have thought the simple act of sitting down would take so much effort?
“Do you need anything else, spitfire? Where’s your water?”
When he sees my ever-present cup for water on the kitchen counter, he goes to get it. Refilling it with ice and water from the fridge, he places the lid back on and brings it to me. Ever since I’ve reached the last trimester, I’ve only been satisfied with near-freezing beverages.
“Thanks, Picasso.” I suck a big drink from the metal straw, feeling immediately refreshed. “I’m good. I’m just going to take a nap before dinner.”
Shield comes over to my side and lays down on the floor next to the couch.
“Okay, I’ll be in my studio if you need me. I’ll put your phone on the end table in case you need one of us.”
I give him a smile as I try to maneuver my big belly around into a laying position. When I do, I feel a bit of wetness between my legs. Great.
The joy of being eight months pregnant with twins is that you sometimes pee yourself.
With a huff, I struggle to move to sitting fully upright. “Can you help me up? I need to go to the bathroom.”
On a chuckle, he does.
Right when I’m steady on my feet, the sensation of wetness amplifies; this time, it’s running down my leg.
“Shit!”
“What?” The panicked look on his face is unexpected, considering he’s a trained EMT. Even if he stopped doing it a year or so ago, he still keeps up his certifications and training.
“I’ve got pee running down my leg…”
Even though I’m embarrassed, I know Flynn won’t make a big deal over it.
“It’s okay. Let’s go to the bathroom. I’ll help you get cleaned up and into some new clothes.”
We’re on our way to the bathroom when the liquid running down my leg gushes again with a pulse. The realization hits me like a ton of bricks.
“Um, Flynn. I don’t think I’m peeing myself. I think my water broke.”
Flynn comes to a stop, blinking slowly like he can’t comprehend what I’ve just said.
“Flynn?” I give his shoulder a light shake. “Picasso, I think we need to call the others and have them meet us at the hospital.”
“Holy shit! Your water can’t have broken! It’s too early. I can’t deliver two babies here, Nora!”
I can only smile at his hysteric reaction. I’m sure he’s very calm, cool, and collected when his patient isn’t someone that he loves. This is a perfect example of why loved ones don’t treat family—they just can’t think clearly.
“Shield, phone,” I call to Shield. It’s something we’ve been working on recently to expand his training. Shield comes trotting into the bathroom with my phone securely tucked into his mouth. I hold out my hand for it and when he drops it into my palm, I rub his head. “Good boy!”
Flynn is kind of staring off into space, declaring every now and then that it’s too early for my water to break. Really, it’s not—not for twins.
I pull up Owen in my contact list and dial. It only rings twice before Owen’s rich, deep voice sounds in my ear. “Hey, gorgeous. How are you and the baby boys doing?”
“Umm … we’re good, I think.”
I know my voice sounds unsure and unsteady. In my defense, I’m the one that’s supposed to be freaking out, not Flynn. He’s had training for this!
Owen immediately shifts into doctor mode. “What happened?”
“I think my water broke. At first, I thought I’d just peed myself, but I keep getting trickles of liquid down my legs.”
“Okay, don’t worry. Tell me exactly when this happened.”
“Five minutes ago.”
“Okay, good. Now estimate the amount that’s come out so far.”
How am I supposed to do that? I make a guess and hope it’s close enough. “Ah … I’d say between two-hundred and fifty or three-hundred milliliters.”
“That’s not too much. Is there any color to it?”
I lift my skirt and peek under it. Thankfully, I’m wearing white underwear so if there is any color, it will be easy to see.
“Nope, all clear.”
“Perfect. Any obvious odor?”
“Not that I can tell. Flynn is here but he’s kind of freaking out and keeps saying it’s too soon for this.”
Owen sighs before telling me to put Flynn on the phone.
I hold my phone out to Flynn, who I suspect takes it out of habit. “He wants to talk to you.”
“Yeah?” Flynn says to Owen. As Owen speaks, Flynn looks more and more coherent, snapping out of whatever freak-out he was having. “Yeah, okay. I’m good now. I’ll get the bags, put the dogs up, then we’ll head out.”
The sound of the front door has Shield running to see who it is. When no warning bark comes from him, I know it’s one of the guys.
“We’re in the
hall bathroom!” I call out to whoever it is.
Flynn ends the call and hands my phone back to me as Silas enters the bathroom. “Let me get you a change of clothes. Once you’re dressed, we can lock up and go.”
“What’s going on?” Silas’s head is cocked as he catches the tail end of Flynn’s instructions. Understandably, he looks perplexed.
“My water broke. Can you help me change while Flynn puts the dogs up and gets the go bags? I’ll tell the others.” I pull up our group text and start typing.
“What do you want me to get for you to wear?” Silas asks.
With a kiss to my cheek, Flynn heads out of the bathroom to wrap up everything that needs to be done before we can leave, knowing that Silas will take care of me.
“Probably pants so that I can put a pad in my undies and feel like it’s supported.”
Silas nods and off he goes to get me a change of bottoms.
7 Birthing Babies
By Your Side by Lifehouse
I’ve been admitted to the Labor and Delivery department of the hospital when Heath, the last of my husbands to arrive, shows up.
Since baby A is head down, I’m allowed to try for a vaginal delivery, but it has to be done in the operating room since I’m having twins. Until then, I’m allowed to be in a room to labor.
“Sorry,” Heath says, the irritation in his voice clear. “I had a client that I couldn’t reschedule.”
I smile as he leans to give me a kiss. “It’s okay, you didn’t miss much. Just a few contractions.”
Silas and Flynn are sitting on the couch, while Kyle’s gone to get them all something to drink. I’m on a clear liquid diet for now.
Owen has been stopping by in between cases in the ER. His shift ends soon, then he’s off until after the babies are born. He’ll be putting in for spousal leave before his shift ends, so he can spend the first couple of weeks at home to help me and the babies.
“Have we decided on names for them yet?” Silas asks once Heath has pulled the rocker closer to the bed and plopped down in it.
Flynn tries to turn me over to the dark side for the thousandth time. “I still like Leo.”
“No,” Heath says, shutting Flynn down before he can go off on another defense of the name.
I smile at my guys. “I haven’t decided. I probably won’t until I see them.”
How can I name someone I’ve never met?
All of my husbands agreed that they’d let me pick the names for our boys. If they don’t like a name, they have veto power but, ultimately, the decision is mine.
I feel another contraction coming on so I close my eyes, relaxing each part of my body as I focus on my breathing. I start at my head and work my way down.
So far, my contractions haven’t been that bad. Owen has warned me that when I get into active labor, that’ll change. I’m hoping he’s wrong.
“Good job, honey.”
Kyle’s soothing voice comes from my bedside. I hadn’t even noticed that he was back. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.
“Thanks. They’re not too bad yet.”
∞∞∞
A pained moan escapes from my clenched teeth as Silas rubs my lower back to distract from the pressure.
“You’re doing great, doll.”
Silas’s gentle encouragements give me the strength to face the next contraction.
We’re in the operating room, just Silas, me, and the nurse, and I’m fully dilated. However, my doctor has decided to fuck off and deliver someone else’s baby so I have to wait until she returns to deliver both of mine.
“Where is she?!” I yell as another contraction grips my body. Then, another contraction picks up immediately. Fuck!
Silas rubs my back again but this time, it doesn’t do shit to help.
“I have to push!”
The nurse, I’ve forgotten her name, shakes her head in my peripheral. “No, Nora. You have to wait for your doctor. She’s going to be here any minute.”
Yeah. Right.
My body starts to push on its own and I’m powerless to stop it. My epidural isn’t working anymore. If I end up needing a c-section, they’ll have to put me under.
“I can’t wait!”
“Come on, Nora. You can do this. Breathe with me, doll.”
Silas takes a deep breath in and holds it for three seconds. I try to match my breathing to his. The exhale is easier for me since my contraction is waning.
The doors to the operating room swings open and my doctor sweeps through. Finally!
“Okay, Nora, let’s see how you push. With your next contraction, I want you to put your chin to your chest and give it all you’ve got.”
All I can do at this point is nod and focus as my next contraction is already here.
I do this for over an hour and finally, I deliver my first son into the world.
His cry is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. Tears well up at the sound, spilling over my clammy cheeks.
Silas cradles my head in his big, warm hand and kisses my forehead, a huge, proud smile on his face. “You did it, doll. I’m so fucking proud of you.”
While Silas is speaking to me, the medical staff is checking to see if baby B can be delivered naturally too. My vision is blackening from the edges. Is this what tunnel vision feels like to laboring women?
“Okay, Nora,” the doctor says, her voice sounding further away than it had moments ago. “It looks like this next one can be a vaginal delivery too. So with your next contraction, let’s have another baby.”
Only, I never feel another contraction. Before I know what’s happening, my world goes black.
8 Perfect
Unsteady by X Ambassadors
Silas
Nora’s hand goes limp in mine and all I’m thinking is that this is not the time to mess with me. When I look from the doctor to Nora, exasperated at her decision to prank me right now, I see her eyes are closed, her body limp.
What the fuck?
Like a bomb’s gone off that I can’t hear, the room erupts into activity, as if we’ve all just realized that she’s unconscious. The medical staff start rushing around, grabbing equipment while I stand there, frozen.
One of the nurses comes over to me, her hands on my arms as she pushes me away from the operating table. “Sir, we need you to leave so we can do our job. Mrs. Molano and the second baby need urgent medical assistance.”
I hear mumblings of the required medical equipment, ramblings of needing to save lives, of excessive blood loss.
How can this be? She was just fine.
As they herd me away like cattle, I’m in too much shock to do more than be pushed out and into the hall.
The door shuts on me and I blink at it.
On autopilot, I make my way to the others.
For the first time in what seems like forever, I pray.
God, I know we don’t talk much but please … save her.
Owen
Silas comes down the hall from the operating room, his face as white as a ghost.
Not. Fucking. Good.
I rush to him. “What happened? Are Nora and the babies alright?”
“They made me leave,” Silas says, his voice as dead as his demeanor. “I think … I think they said she was losing too much blood after the first baby was born.”
No. Fuck no!
Struggling to keep my composure, I pull up my medical training and look at it from the perspective of a detached doctor. Part of me wants to rush into the OR and take over her care but I know I’m in no position to do that.
With a deep breath in and slowly out, I force myself to remember that she has the best medical team on hand. They’ll do everything they can for her.
“What about the baby that was delivered?” I ask. The rest of the guys are behind me, waiting to hear the answers. Though they’re silent, I know they’re just as concerned, but they’re trusting me to take the lead on this and coax the answers out of Silas.
“They had him o
n the warming thing. They were checking him over when I had to leave.” A tear runs down Silas’s face. His eyes snap to mine, filled with grief. “Tell me she’s going to be okay, Owen. Please.”
The sound of his voice cracking with the last words has my own emotions rearing their head.
I want to tell him that. More than anything, I want to. But I won’t. I can’t promise something I can’t predict. So, I do the next best thing.
“Her medical team is the absolute best.” I place my hand on his shoulder, my forehead against his. “I made sure of it, Silas. We need to trust them to save her and our boys.”
His body shakes with a sob before he swallows the rest. We stay standing there for a moment before I think he’s settled enough to sit. Leading him to a chair, I get him to sit before nodding for the other guys to do the same. There’s nothing we can do for them standing here, scared out of our minds.
When she comes out of the OR, she’ll need us to be at the top of our game to take care of our family. And she will come out. I can’t let myself think anything less.
∞∞∞
Twenty agonizing minutes later, a nurse enters the waiting room we’re gathered in. “Those for Mrs. Molano?”
The five of us stand.
Her eyes widen for a moment before she gathers her composure. I don’t have the headspace to wonder if she’s shocked at us all being here or me specifically.
I flip through my mental file of nurses and remember her as being one that’s efficient and kind.
“Nora is in recovery.” The rest of the guys visibly relax at the words, but not entirely. “Her blood loss was significant, and she required a transfusion. We had to perform a cesarean to get the other baby out but, thankfully, neither will be requiring a NICU stay. All three are doing fine now. If two of you would like to follow me, you can come back into recovery to be with her and the babies.”
Most of our remaining tension wanes but the rest will only go away once we see all three of them ourselves.
“No,” I say, my voice firm. “All of us will be coming back.”
I know it’s against policy but none of us will be willing to stay behind, and the staff will have a fight on their hands if they try to make us. They can make an exception this one time. I’ll pull strings if I have to.
