TaylorAt 2:00 in the morning, I lay on my bathroom floor with my head leaning on the chilly edge of the tub. Yesterday, I spent more time over the bathroom stool than usual. It became bad enough, I moved the ginger ale, water bottle, and crackers onto my dresser so I could attempt to nibble without leaving my bedroom area. I found walking caused dizziness, which led to nausea, and thus another visit to the bathroom. In my weakened state, I napped most of the day in my bed. Tonight, I attempt to sleep, but most of my night, I find myself on the bathroom floor. I’m not fighting it anymore. The cool tub feels good on my cheek and neck. I grab the towel off a nearby rack to use as a blanket. My stomach quiet for the moment, I close my eyes, hoping for sleep to rescue me. My headache grows worse with each passing hour.I wake when I hear movement on the stairs and then in the kitchen.“Hey,” I attempt to yell. My dry mouth, cotton tongue, and raw throat make talking difficult. “Help!” I b
TaylorAfter my ten minutes of worshiping the porcelain throne, I brush my teeth, shower, and dress for today’s obstetrics appointment. Choosing an outfit is simple. I only have one pair of shorts with an elastic waistband.I really need to shop for some new clothes.I am not ready for the maternity attire; I just need to purchase a size or two larger now or all elastic waists. Although I can see and feel my baby bump, it’s not apparent to others. It’s my goal to keep it this way as long as I can. The thought of my baby-bump drawing strangers to touch my belly already causes anxiety. I am not ready for that.I tug on my comfy navy linen shorts with the gently scalloped hem. I pair it with a simple navy and pale blue striped V-neck t-shirt. I opt for a ponytail and very light make-up. Comfy and casual will help calm my nerves for today’s appointment.As I slide my navy slip-on Converse upon my feet, a text from Jackson pings on my phone. Jackson: if change your mindJackson: can meet y
TaylorWhispers.I hear whispers.The soft murmurs pull me from my slumber. Opening my eyes, I find Jackson and Kennedy in the kitchen. They notice my movements.“Stay,” Jackson encourages. “Stay on the sofa. We will come to you.”I shift slightly to sit up.My stomach feels okay.I should eat.I attempt to rise, but Jackson raises his palms between us. “Stay put and use your words to ask for help,” he instructs.“I should nibble and drink,” I confess. “Would you mind bringing me some pretzels and water or ginger ale?”Eager to hear about today’s visit, they quickly bring me snacks and a drink. Kennedy kneels on the floor in front of me while Jackson sits beside me on the sofa. I chomp on a few pretzel sticks, needing my mouth occupied while I figure out what to do next.When I sip the ginger ale, Kennedy breaks, “You’re killing us. We need details.”Jackson nods in agreement.“I need to pee, then I’ll spill all the details,” I lie. I need to retrieve the pics from my dresser. When I r
TaylorAfter my morning trip to the porcelain throne and breakfast on Monday, I close this week’s reminder. I remove the photo of the head of a nail from the refrigerator and replace it with the week seven photo of a blueberry. Our little ones are getting bigger and bigger. My hand absent-mindedly rubs my belly.As I pose for my two baby belly photos, I notice my stomach. It’s not much. No one would notice, but I do. I read that because of my petite stature, I notice changes sooner than some pregnant women do. I won’t share with Jackson and Kennedy that I’m already fattening up. I’m not ready for my abdomen to be the primary focus of everyone around me.While eating my lunch on a barstool, I notice the waistband on my only elastic shorts is no longer comfortable. I decide I can’t wait until Saturday to shop with Kennedy as we planned. My waist expands and so should my wardrobe. I grab my cell phone.Me: feeling good, need shorts, think I’ll shop todayKennedy: go for itKennedy: catch
TaylorOn Sunday, we prepare tailgating foods to watch The Chiefs football game. By mid-day, my breasts ache something fierce. I enter my bathroom, remove my bra, then replace it with the next size up that I purchased on my shopping trip. The fact, I move from my slightly too large size 34A bra to a snug 34B concerns me. Of course, I have read many places that breast size increases during pregnancy as they prepare to produce milk for the baby after giving birth.I knew this day would come, so why am I so uncomfortable?Standing in my bra and panties in front of my mirror, I observe the changes my body already undertook in my first weeks of pregnancy. My abdomen grows, my hips round, and my breasts swell. Before I re-dress, I decide to take advantage of being in the bathroom before I return to the living room.While washing my hands, I notice my upper arms scrunch my breasts over the sink. These boobs are out of control. Walking through my bedroom, I observe my profile walking in the mi
TaylorIn mid-November, Kennedy remains home with Jackson and me for today’s noon Chiefs game versus The Panthers. Seems Isaac and Madison plan to meet to discuss their marriage today. Kennedy, though present, is withdrawn. It’s clear to me she doesn’t want to be here.In the second half, she naps on one end of the sofa while I sit at the other end. Jackson and I focus all our attention on the close game. While she sleeps, we try to quiet our cheers and groans.Jackson immediately notices my sudden change in position, as well as my alertness. My hands cover my entire belly. I crane my neck as I focus on the sensation I just experienced. “Feeling sick?” Jackson inquires nervously.Kennedy raises her head from the pillow to see what causes our focus to turn from the game.“Not sick,” I answer, while still trying to decipher the sensation I experienced.There it is again. What could it be?It isn’t nausea, not gas. It feels like butterflies fluttering for a few seconds.As fast as it sta
TaylorI smile at the calendar. Today is the day; it’s finally December 7th. Today is the sonogram that will hopefully divulge the sex of the twins. I’m excited, Kennedy is excited, and Jackson is a nervous wreck. It’s cute. I’m very excited for the two of them.Jackson meets me in the parking lot as usual for the appointment. “Ready for this?” he asks.“Are you ready for this?” I counter.He shakes his head, and we walk into the three-story physician’s office building. “The good news is, we know there are two babies in here.” I rub my tummy as I speak. “No more surprise babies. Just finding out if they will pee sitting down or standing up.” Jackson sputters. He wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me in for a side-hug. “You’re a dork,” he says for the millionth time.“Good news,” I reply. “Your children will be fifty-percent my genes. The nerd and dork genes are dominant. Are you prepared?” I tease.“I can only hope I have a brainiac daughter just like you.” Jackson’s words hi
TaylorOn Thursday, I awake from my afternoon catnap slowly sitting up. While I wait for my body to adjust, I snag my phone from the coffee-table. My alerts notify of three Facebook messages, one snap on Snap Chat, and a text from Kennedy.I read the text first, finding Kennedy will be at Madison’s again this evening. I guess Jackson and I will continue working through our fast-food list. I mentally tally she spent four evenings of the last seven with Madison. It seems Madison’s marriage struggles are more than she can handle. I may try to stay awake until Kennedy comes home tonight to get an update on the situation. Maybe I can assist Madison, too.Later, I decide to take advantage of the forty-five-degree day and venture out for a walk. As I round the corner, I notice Madison pulling into her driveway. She is home early, and I plan to take advantage of this opportunity. Keeping a steady pace, soon I arrive at Madison’s door. Ringing the bell, I attempt to organize my questions while
TaylorMy mind scrambles for words.Ready?Ready for what?Our first kiss was everything I fantasized about this past year and then some.Is he ready to sleep together?I’m not sure I am ready for that tonight.Our kiss proves our electric passion for each other. I stand in front of him, as he’s seated on his bed; I move between his knees.“I’m ready to explore us too, but I want to go slow.” I swallow, my mouth suddenly very dry. “I need to go slow. We have too much on the line to jump into this.”Jackson nods his understanding.To show my desire for him, I place feather-light kisses on his jaw. He places his hands on each side of my face, guiding my lips to his. This kiss is hotter than the first. Our hands explore arms, shoulders, ribs, hips, and chests.I lift my legs to straddle his lap, aligning my pelvis with his. The heat from his cock exquisitely flows to my core. His hands on my hips grind me into him, and I moan. I continue the pressure as he moves his mouth to my jaw, then
Two Years LaterTaylor“What time is it?” I ask the room.“Twenty minutes after the last time you asked,” Martha teases.“We have five minutes,” Elizabeth announces to everyone. “Taylor, might I have a moment?” She inquires, escorting me onto the balcony for a modicum of privacy. I thought my nerves had reached a pinnacle; a private chat with Elizabeth escalates them even higher. Gerald and Elizabeth arrived with us three days ago to assist with the preparations and the twins. We shopped, dined, and even swam.What will she discuss now, with less than five minutes until we start?Why didn’t she talk to me before now?“You look beautiful, dear,” Elizabeth says. “For many years now, Gerald and I have thought of you as our daughter. Today, you make that official.” She dabs a tissue to the corner of each eye, not wanting her tears to ruin her makeup. “You brought our son back into our lives, you gave us two precious grandchildren, and today you give us the happiness and future we always d
Taylor “Taylor!” Jackson summons loudly from upstairs the next evening.I recap my water bottle before attempting the epic struggle that is rising from the sofa post-cesarean. I peek at the sleeping twins before I slowly and painfully ascend the fourteen stairs from the living room to the second floor. Jackson wouldn’t require me to trudge upstairs if it wasn’t important. I pass the bathroom doorway as it is dark inside. The master bedroom door is open, but no lights are on. I notice light entering the hallway from the nursery. I place my hand on the door frame for support.Jackson sits on his knees at the open nursery closet door. I see no spurting blood, signaling a need to yell at me.“What’s so important I had to climb the stairs?” I immediately regret my icy tone.Jackson turns, rising to face me. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think. I just found the bag and reacted. Are you okay? Want to sit in the rocker? I should have brought it down to you.”I regret my words even more now seeing t
TaylorGroup Session at Dr. Wilson’s OfficeMonday, May 22 “Thank you for securing a sitter and meeting in my office today,” Dr. Wilson greets. “I’ve asked a colleague to join us today. This is Dr. Jacobs.”“Dr. Jacobs, please meet Jackson Hayes and Taylor Taft.” After shaking hands, we take our chairs.“Are you leaving your practice or passing us off?” I question.Why else would she have another professional sit in on our session?“Our topic of today’s session is delicate. I recently shared a situation with Dr. Jacobs. Through our discussion, we decided we should both be present today.” Dr. Wilson assumes her usual chair, pulls out a manila file folder, and begins. “As you are both aware, I met with the two of you and Kennedy individually throughout the surrogacy process. I did not share items from one session with the others, as privacy is vital in the therapy journey.” She smiles at both of us before continuing. “The two of you shared a similar issue with me in your sessions. I ha
TaylorThe doorbell wakes me from my nap. Who could it be on a Wednesday? I slowly rise from the sofa and glance at the sleeping twins in their nearby bassinets on my way to the front door. Through the peephole, I spy Dr. Wilson.Did I forget an appointment?“Hello,” I greet. “Taylor.” Dr. Wilson wraps me in a gentle hug. “I’m so sorry. I read about Kennedy’s passing in the paper. May I come in?”I’m frozen in place. Seeing Dr. Wilson away from her office catches me off guard. She is here to talk about Kennedy’s death.I’m not strong enough to work through this now with her.“Taylor,” Dr. Wilson prompts. “If this is a bad time, I can come back.”“No!” I announce louder than needed. “Come in. I just woke up, so I am a little out of it,” I confess, excusing my actions.“Resting when the twins rest is important,” Dr. Wilson states. “How have you been feeling?” She seats herself on the end of the sofa nearest the still sleeping babies.“Overwhelmed, but I’m sure all new mothers experience
TaylorIt’s Sunday morning, Jackson’s second day back at work. Elizabeth and Gerald are still in town, thank goodness. I climb from bed a bit easier this morning, my pain lessens with each passing day. I peek into the living room to ensure Elizabeth and Gerald are with the twins before I slip into the restroom. I enjoy a few extra minutes to freshen up; then stride toward the kitchen in search of breakfast. My appetite grows every day. I’m told it’s because I need extra energy for nursing.“Good morning,” Gerald greets from the sofa as I walk by.I return his greeting, noting he holds both twins in his lap. I climb upon a kitchen stool.“How’d you sleep last night?” Elizabeth asks, sliding a plate of sausage and tater tots my way. As I rise, she pushes my shoulder down and fetches the ketchup for me.I am very glad they put everything on hold to help Jackson with the funeral arrangements and me with the twins, but eventually I need to do everything on my own. She pampers me too much; i
Taylor“Did you halt the mail delivery while you were in the hospital?” Gerald inquires.My eyes widen. We should have, but we did not.“I’ll walk Nya to the mailbox and back,” Elizabeth offers quickly. “You need to rest and Gerald, you need to sit still so the twins can nap,” she teases her husband.When they return, Elizabeth releases Nya from her leash. She immediately darts to Gerald’s feet. She stands on her hind legs to ensure the twins are safe in his care. Next, she whines at the side of the sofa, wanting me to lift her to my lap. This simple task requires planning on my part. One cannot simply bend over and pick up an eight-pound puppy two days after a C-section. As I cuddle and coo Nya on the sofa, Elizabeth uses kitchen scissors to open a small package. She asks me if she should look inside or wait for Jackson. My eyes remain on Nya as I give Elizabeth permission to open it.Sensing a change in her mood, Nya hops from the sofa to join her at the kitchen island. My eyes foll
TaylorI behave like a perfect patient, and the doctor releases me on Sunday afternoon. As we round the corner, Jackson’s home comes into view. A large sign with balloons attached graces the front lawn, welcoming Carter and Kennedy home.“No, no, no,” Jackson chants. “I told Madison not to tell the neighbors. I can’t handle a party. This is not a time to party.” It might be easy to let his words upset me. The twins are to be celebrated. They are tiny, precious, bundle of joys. However, I completely understand Jackson’s need for privacy. The passing of his wife at the same time his twins are born takes its toll. “I will thank everyone for coming and send them on their way,” I offer. “I’ll fake fatigue.” Not that it would be much of a stretch. I’m exhausted; the thought of relaxing on the sofa or in my bed is my only goal.As Jackson pulls the Mustang into the garage, Gerald and Elizabeth park behind it in the driveway. Jackson opens my door for me and extends his arm to assist me to s
TaylorEmotions somewhat in check, Jackson continues. “Taylor opened her door then yelled to wake me up. I got out and went to help Kennedy. Taylor’s water broke, so the EMTs drove the two of us here, while the fire department extricated Kennedy.” At his mother’s audible gasp, Jackson pauses, and Gerald reaches for his wife. “Taylor was in active labor when Kennedy arrived at the hospital. The babies were in distress, so she was prepped for a C-section. When Taylor went to recovery and the twins to the nursery, I signed forms for Kennedy to have surgery to stop her internal bleeding.” Jackson releases my hand and stands. “Taylor and the twins got settled here while Kennedy had a second surgery.”“It was a long emotional night,” I add, hoping to give Jackson some support in this emotionally tragic story.“This morning, Taylor decided she needed to go down. She paged nurses, insisting they wheel her down to see Kennedy. She didn’t take no for an answer.” Jackson’s Adam’s apple visibly bo