Three Little Heartbeats

Chapter 8: Triplets, Triple the Stress

The morning light filtered through the curtains of Alexia's small Los Angeles apartment, casting a warm glow across the room. She lay on her back in bed, staring at the ceiling, her hand resting on her swollen belly. Each day, it seemed, her body changed more rapidly, her belly growing rounder, heavier, as the three little lives inside her grew. She could feel the weight of it—not just physically, but emotionally. The responsibility, the uncertainty, the fear—it all pressed down on her, even more than the weight of carrying triplets.

She shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a position that didn't strain her aching back. She had read all the pregnancy books, attended her doctor's appointments, and followed every piece of advice she could find online, but nothing could have truly prepared her for this. Pregnancy was hard enough, but triplets? It felt like a whole different world of stress.

Finally giving up on trying to get comfortable, Alexia swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up slowly, one hand bracing her back and the other resting on her belly. She made her way to the kitchen, where the kettle sat on the stove, ready to brew her morning tea. As she waited for the water to boil, she glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall.

Twenty-four weeks.

Twenty-four weeks of carrying three babies. She was well past the halfway point, and yet, in some ways, it felt like the journey had only just begun. Every day, her belly grew larger, her movements slower, and her anxiety heavier. The reality of her situation hit her more intensely as the days passed.

She poured the hot water into her mug and sank into the couch, cradling the cup in her hands as she stared down at her belly. Every now and then, she felt the fluttering of tiny feet, a soft kick here and there—a reminder that her babies were alive and growing.

But along with that reminder came the stress.

How was she supposed to do this alone?

She had been so consumed with protecting herself from the potential media storm in the Philippines and the complicated feelings she had toward Sandro that she hadn't fully faced the day-to-day reality of what life would be like once the babies were born. Three cribs, three sets of clothes, three mouths to feed. How was she going to manage?

She knew she wasn't completely alone—Leah had been supportive, checking in on her regularly, and Mrs. Castillo had become a maternal figure of sorts. But at the end of the day, she was the one carrying these babies. She was the one who would have to make the decisions, raise them, be their mother.

The pressure was overwhelming.

A sudden, sharp kick jolted her from her thoughts, and she placed her hand on her belly, trying to calm the restless little ones inside. She smiled faintly, despite the anxiety that weighed on her.

"I know," she whispered, rubbing her hand gently across her belly. "I'm stressed too."

The days were starting to blur together, a repetitive cycle of doctor's appointments, grocery runs, and hours spent scrolling through parenting websites, trying to prepare for what lay ahead. She had read every article on carrying multiples, but none of them seemed to fully capture the emotional toll it was taking on her. Physically, she could feel the strain—her back ached, her legs felt heavy, and sleep was becoming more elusive with each passing night.

But the emotional weight? That was a whole other story.

She had always imagined that pregnancy would be a time of joy and anticipation, but instead, it felt like she was holding her breath, waiting for something to go wrong. And there was still the lingering grief over the baby she had lost. It was a pain she hadn't yet allowed herself to fully process, partly because the weight of raising the other two seemed to consume her every thought.

Would she be enough for them? Could she give them the life they deserved?

The sound of her phone buzzing on the table pulled her from her thoughts. She glanced down and saw it was another message from Leah.

"How's my favorite triplet mama doing?" Leah had been trying to keep things light, always sending Rafhaela funny memes or videos about parenting, but Rafhaela could feel the concern behind the messages.

She hesitated before replying.

"Honestly? I'm freaking out."

Leah's response came almost immediately.

"You're going to be amazing, Lex. It's normal to feel overwhelmed. But you've got this, I promise. And I'm here for whatever you need."

Alexia stared at the message, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. Leah meant well, and Rafhaela appreciated the support, but it wasn't just about needing someone to be there for her. It was about the sheer enormity of what lay ahead—raising triplets, potentially as a single mother, with Sandro still unaware of the life they had created together.

The idea of telling Sandro had been weighing on her more heavily with each passing day. She had tried to convince herself that staying in the U.S. was the best choice, that keeping the pregnancy hidden would protect them all from the media storm that would inevitably follow. But deep down, she knew it wasn't fair—to Sandro, to herself, or to their children.

But how could she tell him now? So much time had passed, and their relationship had been left in a state of uncertainty. Would he even want to be involved? Would he resent her for not telling him sooner?

Alexia took a deep breath, wiping away the tears that had formed. She couldn't let herself get lost in the what-ifs. Right now, she needed to focus on the present—on staying healthy, on preparing for the arrival of her babies. Everything else, including Sandro, would have to wait.

For now.

She placed her mug down on the table and slowly rose to her feet, heading to the bedroom. The walk across the room felt like an eternity, her belly pulling her forward with each step. She had always been an active person, but pregnancy had slowed her down in ways she hadn't expected. Climbing into bed, she pulled out her prenatal journal, a book her doctor had given her to track her thoughts and feelings during the pregnancy. She hadn't written in it much, but today, she felt the need to pour out her anxieties.

*September 10*

Twenty-four weeks. The babies are getting bigger. I feel them moving all the time now, which is both comforting and terrifying. I'm excited to meet them, but I'm also scared. Scared of what's to come, scared of doing this alone, scared that I'll never figure out how to tell Sandro. I want to be strong for them. But I feel so overwhelmed.

Triplets. Three little heartbeats. Three little lives that I'm responsible for.

I wish I had more answers. I wish I knew what to do.

She closed the journal, placing it back on the nightstand before lying down, exhaustion sweeping over her. As she stared at the ceiling, her hand resting protectively on her belly, the reality of her situation hit her once more.

*Triplets, triple the stress. Triple the responsibility. Triple the love.*

She just had to figure out how to make it through.

And maybe, just maybe, she would find the strength to tell Sandro the truth.

But that would be another battle for another day.