by Claire Adams
"Could you take her?" I asked him. He came up and carefully took Adelaide out of my arms. I had been sitting on the bed but getting myself up after the C-section was a slow, painful job if I didn't want to pop my stitches. It hadn't been part of the plan, but even the most perfectly crafted birth plans went out the window when disaster struck. I had wanted everything as natural as possible. I had been in labor with Damien only about five hours. His birth had gone smoothly, and I had been able to recover fairly fast, which might have made me overambitious for this one. We hadn't been planning to even use a hospital, wanting a home birth instead, but after my due date had come and gone, we had had to start reevaluating our plans.
Two extra weeks the girls had taken in there. I had had to go in for induction; after that, our home water birth plans totally scrapped. I had already had to go on bed rest for my final two months. Before that, I had developed gestational anemia, and the doctors had been concerned about the amount of amniotic fluid I had had. Multiples carried more risk generally; I had been too optimistic hoping my perfect home birth could have happened.
Jason gave me his hand to help me up. Immediately after the C-section, my stomach had been so swollen I had still looked pregnant. I kind of still did, but just four or five months now instead of eight. During labor, it was normal for the baby's heart rate to drop during a contraction; it meant they were head down and ready for delivery. After a contraction, not so much. The deceleration had lasted so long, they had opted for emergency surgery instead of risking more fetal distress and putting one or both of their lives at risk. They had knocked me out at that point though so Jason had had to report all that stuff to me when I had come around.
He had been there the whole time, all of it, including opting to work remotely from home several days a week when I had been on bedrest so I hadn't been alone. He had taken care of everything I hadn't been able to help out with without complaining. His major goal had been getting us a new house before the girls arrived and he had done it. His old penthouse had been sold for two hundred thousand above the price he had been asking, which had been incredible news when we had found out about seven months into the pregnancy.
If we had ended up having to make it work at my old apartment then we would have. A yard and a separate nursery for the girls though had been ideal. Access to a high-quality daycare and good elementary school when the kids were ready had also been essential. Living in Calabasas made the rides to work a little longer but made more sense for our family. We had moved in three weeks from my intended due date. The complications later in the pregnancy had forced me to take a leave from work earlier than I had wanted. Though the station provided on-site childcare, I had rushed back to work super soon after having Damien and didn't think I wanted to do that again. At the time, I hadn't had the choice to spend more time at home with him; now, we did.
We were still talking about it, Jason and I; him working remotely more days a week so he'd be home and the possibility of me staying away from work as long as I possibly could. No matter what we planned, it seemed, we always found ourselves going with the flow when something unexpected happened. I should have been used to it at that point, but when you had kids, you wanted the world to be safer and more predictable for their sake, even though it was an impossible task.
We made our way out to the car, Jason holding Adelaide and me holding Emmy. Neither woke up as we strapped them into their car seats and they stayed asleep through the half hour car ride. My parents had stayed at the house with Damien through most of the past few days during the times Jason had been with me and the girls at the hospital. I hadn't been totally alone having Damien, my mom had been a big help then too, but I almost couldn't believe how different it was having Jason there, even the times he had just been asleep in the chair by my hospital bed. I couldn't believe my luck. I couldn't believe what I had missed out on choosing to go it alone with Damien. That was all in the past, but even the ugliest pasts could have beautiful futures. I had gotten mine, and this was just the beginning.
Parking in front of the house, Jason helped me out before we got the girls. We let ourselves in. I set Emmy's car seat carefully on one of the couches when we got to the living room and sat.
"Did they take him somewhere?" I asked. Jason put Adelaide's car seat down next to Emmy's.
"No, they're probably outside," he said. "I'll get them." Our backyard was awesome. A pool, nice big lawn with a swing set for Damien and a covered patio we could use for barbeques, birthday parties, whatever we wanted. A lot of Jason's furniture from his old place filled our new one, with of course all the nursery furniture from Damien's old room and several of the pieces I had owned. Most of my bedrest had been spent ordering baby furniture for the girls’ room online and buying a few pieces here and there for finishing touches on our decorating. I hadn't gone all out though, leaving some stuff off which we could put on the wedding registry. We were married already, legally, but hadn't had a wedding yet, something neither his or my parents would let us get away with. We'd get to it eventually; I wasn't in a hurry, and with three babies, those were three people who needed our attention more than flower arrangements.
They came inside, Jason walking in after Damien, running up to me. He climbed the sofa into my lap. The surgery had safely delivered my girls, and I wasn't even mad about the scar I'd end up with, but I knew that if I tried to lift Damien while I was standing, I probably wouldn't be able to. Throughout the pregnancy, we had tried to get him familiar with what was happening, as familiar as he could have become, being just a baby himself. While I had been pregnant, he had liked putting his hands on my stomach and going 'ba'; his word for ball. We had weaned him off breastmilk a little earlier than I had wanted because my breasts had become unbearably tender during my second trimester. I kissed his head, rocking him on my lap. There was only one of me and three of them; I just wanted to be enough.
"Baby," he said, looking curiously into Emmy's seat.
"That's right, that's your baby sister," Jason said, coming over to us. Damien had met the girls in the hospital already and stared at them as awestruck as everyone else had been who had come to see them. He had seemed curious and a little timid, but not upset, thankfully. The last thing I wanted was for him to feel left out. Jason moved the seats, placing them carefully on the floor in front of us and sitting next to me.
"Can you say, hi?" I said to Damien.
"Baby," he repeated, sliding off my lap, sitting on the floor next to Adelaide's seat.
"Careful," Jason warned, getting down next to him. Damien reached for Addie's face, touching her cheek. He drew his hand back, shocked when she moved. I laughed, telling him it was okay. He tried again, touching one of her little hands.
"I can't believe we did this," I said, looking down at our kids.
"I can," Jason said, smiling. They were perfect; Jason... he was all right too.
"Good job." I laughed, watching Damien make his way over to the other car seat to look at Em.
"Thanks. You were okay too." He laughed, looking down at Addie.
"So what now?"
This: the people I loved the most, my babies and my husband, together in our home. More of this every day.
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KNOCKED UP BY THE DOC
By Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Claire Adams
Chapter One
Eric
If you'd told me, ba
ck before I became a parent, that a 10-minute drive across town could be exhausting, I would have laughed. But with Emma screaming behind me, kicking the seat in front of her (fortunately, I'd been smart and hadn't sat her directly behind me), and otherwise pitching a fit, those 10 minutes felt like an eternity.
“I don't want to go to daycare!” Emma shrieked. “I want to stay with Nana!”
“I know, sweetie,” I said distractedly as I parked in front of the house. “But Nana isn't feeling well, remember? Anyway, I'm sure you're going to make so many friends at daycare. And maybe you'll get to draw a pretty picture for Daddy to hang in his office.”
“No,” Emma snarled. “I hate you, Daddy! I'm not drawing pictures for you anymore.”
I wanted to smile at the cute logic behind that, but it hurt to hear her say that, even though I knew she didn't mean it. Being a single parent was rough.
I glanced at my watch and winced. As much as I wanted to sit in the car and talk her down from her sulk before bringing her inside, if I didn't hurry, I was going to be late getting to work. On a normal day, that wouldn't be the end of the world, but Mrs. Glover was going to visit her son in Tennessee for a couple of weeks, and we'd managed to squeeze in her appointment right before she needed to go to the airport. I knew the paranoid woman wouldn't leave the state without a checkup from her doctor first, and I didn't want to make her miss her flight.
“Come on, pumpkin,” I said, unbuckling her seat belt and pulling her out of the car. Not the smartest move, I reflected, as all her limbs were still flailing. “Emma, don't make me tell Nana that you didn't behave yourself today,” I warned, not sure what else I could say. I didn't really want to threaten the girl; I knew that things had been difficult lately and that spending more time with her Nana was the one thing that Emma was really happy about. Now, to have to take that away from her as well, I felt horrible.
It is for the best, I reminded myself. Anyway, I was sure that Emma would have fun if she would only give daycare a chance. The girl had always been good at making friends with anyone she was introduced to.
“Nonononononono!” Emma wailed, her kicking increasing in intensity as I pulled her out of the car.
I groaned and practically collapsed as one of her kicks landed, her shoe digging right into my nether regions. I swore colorfully and half-dropped the girl on the ground, where she promptly burst into tears. I felt bad, but I was busy trying to suck in air through my teeth and not vomit all over the sidewalk.
A shadow fell over the two of us, and I looked up at the woman standing there, a grin on her face. I assumed she had seen exactly what had just happened, but she didn't rebuke Emma. Instead, she crouched down next to her, her voice sweet and soothing. “Hey, kiddo, bad morning?” she asked.
Emma looked mistrustfully at her, but amazingly, her wailing lessened. Through my pain, I wondered who this mysterious dark-haired woman was. I had lived in Tamlin, Illinois for my whole life, but I didn't recognize her.
“Do you like dolls?” the woman continued.
Emma nodded slowly. “Uh huh,” she said, putting her fingers in her mouth.
“Well, you know, I have a brand new dolly inside the daycare, and she needs a name. Would you like to come inside and meet her?”
Emma's lower lip wobbled dangerously. “Don't wanna go to daycare,” she mumbled.
“Oh honey, I know the first day can be scary, but I bet you're going to have tons of fun,” the woman continued, and I finally figured out who she must be: Olivia Sable, the new daycare operator.
What a way for me to make a first impression, I thought, barely refraining from rolling my eyes.
“How about this,” Olivia suggested to Emma. “If you come inside and meet the new doll, I'll get you a glass of apple juice also.”
Emma's eyes lit up at that: apple juice was her favorite. I breathed out a sigh of relief and followed the two of them inside. I just hoped Emma would be on her best behavior for the rest of the day.
Once Emma was settled inside with the doll and a sippy cup, I had the chance to properly introduce myself to Olivia. I held out my hand, holding her warm one for a brief moment in my grasp. “I'm Eric Jones.” I paused. “You're an absolute lifesaver, but if you don't mind me asking, how did you recognize us?”
Olivia raised an eyebrow at me. “You pulled up in front of my house,” she pointed out. “Plus, you included a picture of Emma in your application for her. And if those things weren't enough, my mom, Jeannie Sable, gave me a description of you.”
I grinned at her. “She did, did she? I hope it was a nice description.”
From the way Olivia blushed, I had to wonder just what had been in that description. I tried not to laugh.
“Thanks again for your business,” Olivia said, breezing past that. “It's been difficult getting started with the daycare here in such a small town. I only have one other kid to look after at the moment, an 8-year-old boy named Harlan, and he barely pulls his head away from video games when he gets here after school. I've been looking forward to having someone a little livelier.”
I laughed. “You might regret that wish,” I admitted. “Emma's got enough energy for 10 kids her age, and all the mischief to go along with it! Jeannie recommended you, though, and I trust her. I'm sure you and Emma will get along.”
“If you don't mind me asking, why are you changing daycare providers?” Olivia asked. “Did Emma cause too much trouble before?” Immediately after asking the question, Olivia covered her mouth, looking embarrassed at having said that. “Sorry, I don't mean to imply that she's that much of a handful,” she said quickly. “I'm sure she isn't out of control; maybe just curious.”
There was something about seeing her flustered like that which made me want to get her even more flustered. But I decided to go easy on her. “She's been staying with her Nana while I'm at work,” I told her. “My mother-in-law, Helen.” I glanced toward Olivia, but she was happily playing with the doll and not listening to us. “Helen's getting older, though, and I just don’t think it’s fair to put the task of watching Emma on her when she is starting to have trouble just getting around to take care of herself. I thought it might be best to take some of the stress off. And when your mother told me about your daycare, it just seemed like the perfect solution.”
“I'm sorry to hear that, about Nana,” Olivia said sincerely. She glanced toward Emma as well. “Can I get you a cup of coffee? Or tea?”
I grimaced. I'd really like to stay; there was something about her that interested me. But I knew I had to get going. “I have an appointment that I need to get to, actually,” I told Olivia. “I'll have to take a raincheck.”
“Right, no problem,” Olivia said brusquely. “Well, I'll see you back here at 4 to pick up Emma. I have your cell number if there are any issues, not that I'm anticipating that there will be.”
“Good,” I said, wondering at her change in manner. Maybe the polite thing to do would have been to agree to the cup of coffee. It wouldn't take that long, and I didn't want to think that I had upset her.
I didn't know why the thought of upsetting her bothered me so much, but I tried not to dwell on it.
I glanced toward Emma, wondering if I should say goodbye to her, but she was just starting to seem happy again, her temper tantrum forgotten, and I didn't want to risk upsetting her again. I nodded a goodbye at Olivia and stepped back outside.
I shook my head to clear it and walked back to my car. I needed to swing by the office before going to see Mrs. Glover, but I figured I should have plenty of time for that.
Back at the office, I fingered through the stack of test results that had come in that morning. You'd think these things would be all electronic by now, but for some reason, the local lab insisted on having a guy deliver paper copies every morning. I supposed it made sense in case there was ever a power outage or anything like that, but it still seemed like just another backward thing in this small town.
I found the results of Mrs. Glover's blood tests
that she'd had done the previous week. I paused, noticing that they were beneath Jeannie Sable's test results. I had a quick minute to look at those, I decided. Mrs. Glover's results, as expected, had all come back perfectly normal, so our appointment that morning would be rather perfunctory.
I sat down at my desk and scrolled through the documents, frowning deeper and deeper as I went. Although I'd had some idea of what I'd be looking at when the results came in, I had been hoping I was just being overly worried. But now, I was concerned to find that her cancer had progressed.
I closed my eyes, pressing my fingertips against the lids for a moment. Jeannie hadn't lived in Tamlin for most of her life, but everyone knew her. It wasn't just that association that upset me, though, or thinking about how Olivia would take the news. Instead, every patient who came in here with cancer reminded me so much of Emily, my former wife.
I swallowed hard. It had been nearly two years since Emily's death, but every time I thought about it, the pain was just the same: a dull ache in my chest that never really seemed to go away. I already knew exactly what we were going to see with Jeannie unless we acted quickly. I knew what that rapid decline in health looked like, that loss of appetite, the weakness, and the pain. If I had my way, I'd never see it again in anyone else.
I smiled a little to myself. You've picked the wrong profession, if you don't want to see people suffering, I reminded myself sternly.
I sighed and stood up, knowing that I needed to see Mrs. Glover. And knowing that if I showed up stern-faced and grim, she would only panic, suspecting that there was something I wasn't telling her so that she would still go on her vacation. Then, she'd spend the entire vacation worrying that this would be her last, and when she got back home, she'd order another hundred tests to ensure that there was nothing wrong with her.
I had to put on a friendly smile, just for her. Fortunately, I had a lot of practice in smiling when I was upset.