The Look Of Hope

Chapter 49: Twining

At her last check-up, thirty-six weeks out, Mary was relieved to find the twins were not in fact breach. Dr. Li let her know it would be safe to deliver naturally. "But," she said, "if the twins come before thirty-seven weeks then we'll have to do a c-section. A natural birth could have complications. Anything before, thirty-seven weeks is considered high risk."

Swell. Her appointment had been on a Monday (as Thursday was booked solid). The rest of the week she fretted over going into labor. Once she passed week thirty-six, her anxiety lessened. Now in the thirty-eighth week, her anxiety has resurfaced. Any day she could have the babies. 

As the week wore on, she became more and more on edge. Everything is getting on her nerves. Wednesday morning, she tried to reach the canister of oatmeal, on the high shelf. She couldn't. So after grabbing the broom, and pushing it down, the stupid thing spilled. Oatmeal is all on the floor. Grrrrr!

Bobby happened to come into the room. "What a mess. Did one of the girls try to get it down again?" 

With narrowed, eyes she told him "No. I did and it wouldn't have spilled if it hadn't been on the high shelf. Everything is seriously annoying me." She tried to sweep it up, but it was difficult to do. The huge bump got in the way.

Looking at her, he shook his head. He's tired of her poor attitude. "In another fine mood, I see." He shouldn't have said it. He knew that as soon as the words left his mouth. 

Waddling over to him, she stood in his space and chose her words carefully. "I am not in a bad mood. You are just annoying and so is everyone else in my path. This is just... just... just so much UGH!" She left the room in tears. 

Man, he's so over this. He's so over walking around on eggshells. Should he follow her or not? If he followed his head might get chewed off. If he stays put, then he'll for sure be in hot water. It's a lose-lose situation. Exhaling a long sigh, his steps were careful and measured all the way to the bedroom (where he heard tears).

"Sweetie, tell me what you want me to do," he addressed her. The pillow covered her face, with her head on another one. 

Crying, she said "Go away. Just leave me alone. There's nothing you can do anyway." Her body shook as she wept.

Taking his shoes off, he got on the bed with her and rubbed her back. He just laid there, silently supporting her. "My patience is at one percent with everyone and everything. It's so exhausting carrying twins, who don't want to be born. Why won't they come out? The longer they wait, the more stillbirth becomes a reality. I'm just so tired Bobby."

He didn't say anything, just kept one hand on her back and one on the baby bump. As he kissed the spot of her shoulder, where the white T-shirt showed skin, a sharp kick to his hand could be felt. After a while, he felt it again. Tempted to move his hand, he didn't. The more they laid there, the more he felt kicks.

"Mary, I may be crazy, but these kicks keep coming. Do you think maybe, I don't know, you're having contractions?" he asked his wife. Moving his hand around, he could feel an elbow, and on the other side of the bump a head. 

With a worn-out tone of voice, she replied "Actually, yes. The kicks just started happening, four already this hour. I've been counting as we lay here and also in the kitchen. This doesn't feel like the Braxton Hicks ones, from a few weeks ago, either. Plus my back aches something terrible."

Letting go of her bump, he turned to lay on his back. Running a hand through his hair, he spoke. "Then I'd say we need to get the move on and go to the hospital." He readied himself to get up.