by Rebecca Shea
“I don’t know. I mean, they’re so off. Some months I have one, some months I don’t. I just… I don’t know,” I mumble into the phone.
“Come back to the office. We’ll do an ultrasound.”
“Yeah, um… let me go let Elaine know that I have to leave unexpectedly.”
“I’ll see you in a little bit.”
“Reagan? Please don’t say anything to anyone. I’m just…”
“I know. Just get back here.”
I don’t remember driving back to Reagan’s office. I don’t remember her talking to me. I don’t remember changing into the gown and doing a full OB check-up. What I do remember is Reagan handing me a long piece of paper that showed me the ultrasound with two babies and a due date. I notice the due date first, “September twentieth.” I look up at Reagan, who’s standing next to me. “That’s Matt’s birthday.” She smiles at me. My eyes fill with tears and I lay my head back against the pillow on the table.
“You’re almost nine weeks along, Lindsay—with twins.”
“Well, that would be why my clothes are getting tight.” I laugh.
“I know you’re healthy and doing well, but Lindsay, as a doctor, I have to say this. I need you to eat and not worry about your weight.” I listen as Reagan quietly addresses my past struggle with anorexia. “You and your babies need to be healthy. I want you to talk to your therapist, or me if you feel like you’re struggling with this. You’re going to gain weight—and more so than normal. You’re growing two babies.” I nod my head in acknowledgement and she smiles at me. “Everything looks really, really good.” She squeezes my hand while I swat tears away with the other one. “Now, go tell Matt,” she says, pulling me up to a sitting position.
I get changed back into my clothes and sit in my car outside Reagan’s office for god only knows how long. A million things run through my head and every emotion imaginable courses through me. When I returned to work two years ago, Matt changed his shift and now works the day shift. With only a couple of hours left in his shift, I decide to wait for him at home. Arriving home, I immediately begin prepping dinner and start a load of laundry, anything to keep me busy and my mind preoccupied.
“Linds?” I can hear the confusion in his voice just before I hear the front door shut. He usually gets home before me, so I’m sure my car in the driveway surprised him.
“In the kitchen,” I holler.
“What are you doing home?” he asks as he walks into the kitchen.
“We have to talk.” My tone is serious and his face contorts and loses color. I grab his hand and pull him into the living room. “Sit down.” I gesture to the couch. I untie the apron I’m wearing and set it on the coffee table before sitting down next to him.
“I have something to tell you.” My heart races in my chest.
“What’s wrong? You’re scaring me.” He pulls me closer to him, wrapping his arm around me in a protective nature.
“I’m pregnant.” Matt stills at those words.
“You’re pregnant?” he repeats as a question.
“I’m pregnant,” I repeat. “But that’s not all.”
His eyebrows shoot up.
“What do you mean, ‘that’s not all’?”
I literally crawl into his lap and sit face to face with him. His arms wrap around my waist, holding me in place.
“Just tell me, Lindsay.”
“Do you want a girl or a boy?”
“Honest to god, it doesn’t matter. I just want you and our baby healthy.”
“Good answer,” I say, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “What if I told you, you could get a boy and a girl, or two boys, or two girls?”
“Shut up!” he says loudly. “Twins?” I nod my head and he jumps up from the couch with me still wrapped around him.
“We’re having twins?”
“Yes!”
“Oh my god, we’re having twins!” He sets me down and holds my face before leaning in to kiss me. “I love you,” he says against my lips. “I’ve never loved anything as much as I love you.”
“That’s about to change,” I mumble back against his lips.
I wake to a sharp pain in my back and groan as I try to reposition myself for the twelfth time tonight amongst the sea of pillows. Another sharp pain takes my breath away and I gasp loudly. Matt sits straight up out of a dead sleep.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” I groan. “Sharp pains in my back.”
Matt shifts pillows and moves closer to me. “Let me rub your back.” I prop a pillow under my belly and lie on my right side. Matt rubs my lower back, paying special attention to the area that the pain is coming from.
“That feels good,” I mumble just before another pain courses through me. “God dammit,” I bite out.
“I think you need to call Reagan.”
“It’s just back pain. It’s too early for me to have the babies. I’m only thirty-four weeks.”
“Call her,” he orders me. I reach for my cell phone, which is sitting on the nightstand, and scroll through the call list, pressing Reagan’s number. In three rings, she answers, but I hand the phone to Matt when another wave of back pain hits me.
“She’s in a lot of pain,” I hear him tell her. I close my eyes and try to take a deep, cleansing breath. I push myself up to a sitting position and do my best to lean forward in hopes of stretching my lower back. Standing up, I begin waddling to the bathroom, when I feel the warmth begin running down my leg.
“Matt,” I say, trying to get his attention. He’s lost in conversation with Reagan when I finally yell louder. “Matt!” He turns his head quickly just before I hear an “Oh shit.”
“Need some help here.”
“Reagan, I think her water broke. Oh my god, what do I do?” He’s freaking out and, for some reason, this strikes me funny. I begin laughing so hard that I bend over slightly, causing more water to leave me, running down my leg.
“Oh my god, it keeps coming,” he’s yelling into the phone to Reagan. My always calm, cool, and collected husband is freaking out, and I’m laughing.
“Why are you laughing? What is wrong with you?” he’s yelling at me. I don’t know if it’s exhaustion or the situation, but I can’t stop laughing. Matt hands me the phone and runs to the bathroom, pulling towels out from under the vanity. He throws them at my feet and orders me not to move.
“Ready, Mama?” Reagan asks me.
“Ready,” I reply, still laughing at Matt.
“Meet you in OB triage in about a half-hour. Tell your husband to calm his ass down.” She laughs before hanging up the phone. Matt is pulling clothes out of drawers and stuffing them into an overnight bag.
“We are not ready,” he says, shoving more items into the bag. I waddle carefully to the bathroom to clean myself up and change before leaving. Twenty minutes later, we’re entering the hospital and being checked in. A few minutes later, I’m in a room, hooked up to every known monitor ever made and an IV bag delivering fluids. The contractions are slow at first, coming every seven to eight minutes, but as the evening progresses, they strengthen and come every two to three minutes.
Matt paces the room and honestly provides comedic relief for me while I labor. “Haven’t you delivered babies before on the side of the road?” I ask him in between contractions.
“Totally different,” he barks at me. “It wasn’t you. I don’t like seeing you in pain.”
I breathe through another contraction and, before I know it, my room is full of family. Landon and the girls are here and my mom and Louis just arrived. Everyone is quiet and respectful, but Reagan orders them all down the hall to the private waiting suite.
“Let’s check you,” she says, slipping on a rubber glove. “You’re ten centimeters and fully effaced. Let’s have some babies,” she says. Matt runs both of his hands through his hair and breathes deeply. Reagan calls in some additional nurses and positions the stirrups for my feet so I can begin pushing.
“I’m
not going to lie, Lindsay; this is going to hurt like hell. Focus on pushing and seeing your babies, not the pain.” I opted to do a drug-free delivery. I know I’m insane, but for me, it was important to steer clear of any narcotics.
Matt leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead and squeezes my hand. “This is it, Linds. It’s no longer just you and me.” I smile at him and begin pushing. Forty minutes later, we are now a family of four with the addition of Liam and Noah. Matt goes with the nurse and the babies to the NICU while Reagan stays with me.
“Good job, Lindsay. That was tough, but you did it.” I nod my head, too tired to reply. The nurse has administered some extra strength ibuprofen through the IV line to help with the pain and I finally begin to relax a little. “They look perfect. The pediatrician will keep them for a few hours and monitor them, but if everything is good, they’ll be able to come back to the room for a while. They will want you to try and nurse if you’re up for it.”
I close my eyes and rest while more nurses come and go, checking my vitals and changing my IV bag. I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep when Matt kisses my forehead, waking me up. He’s pushed a bassinet into the room where both boys are swaddled and sleeping next to each other.
“They’re perfect, Linds. Perfect,” he repeats. He picks up the first baby and hands him to me. “Noah. He’s got the darker hair.” I push the little beanie aside and see just a small tuft of dark hair on top of his head. “And Liam. He has the dimpled chin.” I spend the next few minutes inspecting my babies and kissing them. There is nothing sweeter than the smell of a newborn. I nurse and Matt changes the boys’ diapers as we settle in to a quiet little routine at the hospital.
When Landon, Reagan, the girls, my mom, and Louis have all come and gone, I realize this is the first time my room has been quiet for the last twenty-four hours. Matt has fallen asleep upright in the chair next to the bed, cradling each swaddled baby boy in the crook of each of his arms. I snap a quick picture with my phone and lower the back of my bed so I can rest for a bit.
My heart is bursting with love for Matt and our new family. Two and half years ago, I never would have imagined that this would be my life—married to the man of my dreams with two baby boys. As I close my eyes, I whisper a prayer of gratitude for all that I have and for all that has led me to where I am today. Learning to process my emotions—drug free—while balancing my career and personal life was the biggest hurdle I had to overcome; however, making amends with those I’ve hurt was the most painful. While I’m healthy today, my past battle with anorexia will always be in the forefront of who I am. The most important lesson I’ve learned is that forgiveness is a beautiful gift to give, but an even more beautiful gift to receive.
As the “Unbreakable” series comes to an end, I want to thank you for taking this journey with me. What started out as a single book, Unbreakable, grew into something so much bigger because of your love for these characters.
At times, I’ve wanted to quit—I felt I couldn’t give these characters the story they deserved, but then I’d get a message from a reader begging me for more. So thank you. Thank you for helping me write Gabe, Jess, Ava, Luke, Lindsay, Landon, Reagan, and Matt. I have loved crawling around in the heads of these characters so much that they almost feel real to me (is that weird?)
I plan to continue writing, but the “Unbreakable” series has reached its end. I know many of you have asked for a story for Ava and Adrian, and Luke and Heather and, at this time—I just don’t know if that will happen. “Never say never” is my motto, but for now, I’m on to writing something new.
Thank you all for your support and encouragement and loving this series as much as I have!
Giant hugs to all of you!
~Rebecca
Many, many thanks to my family for your never-ending support. You are everything to me.
My betas, Christine, Amy, Katy, and Lauren, and my editors Beth and Beth, you ladies made this a better story—thank you!
Sara Celi and Amanda Clark for helping me with the “TV” parts. You two girls have the coolest jobs ever. Thank you for your help and making this story authentic.
Gretchen, Amy, Hadley, Renee, Emmy, Julie and Toni—because you balance me. Love you all fiercely.
Unbreakable
Purchase Unbreakable from Amazon
Undone
Purchase Undone from Amazon
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