TaylorJust out of my barely warm-but-safe-for-the-baby bath, I scoop up Nya, and we crash on the sofa. My eyes flutter open to the vision of Jackson standing over me with Nya in his arms, lapping at his cheek and neck.“Hey, sleepy,” he greets.I slowly slide to a semi-upright position near the arm of the sofa. Jackson doesn’t hide his shit-eating-grin.“What did you do?”He is up to something ornery; he has no poker face.“Look at your phone.” Is all he says, carrying Nya up to change his clothes.I snag my phone from my pocket. I have a new text from Jackson. It’s a picture. He took a picture of Nya sleeping on my chest while I napped. I can’t be mad at him. It is a tender moment. I need to frame this one. My large pregnancy belly looms prominently as I am horizontal. Nya snuggles on my chest with her head propped on my belly bump, and my puffy face is peaceful in sleep. I love this snapshot. I’m glad he recorded this moment in time for me. Nya naps beside me in the recliner or at
TaylorKennedy: be ready @ 5Me: I rememberKennedy: (thumbs up emoji)Me: craving French fries Kennedy: (laughing emoji)Tonight is the night. Jackson asked to take us out to eat and to a movie. For two weeks I’ve fought going stir-crazy in the house all day. I’m too large to bend over, so cleaning and exercising are out. I struggle to play with Nya; this kills me. She is so cute and at a very playful stage. I attempt to sit on the floor for a while every day and play tug-of-war and fetch with her. Afterward, my rising from the floor is a struggle. Dr. Harrison believes everything is just as it should be, but he requested total-bedrest this week. I’m to stand or walk only to the bathroom. Sitting and horizontal relaxing are now my day-job. Netflix and Hulu binge-watching fill my days. Premium channels and On Demand entertain me, too. Daytime TV is not my style. If only it was fall, I could watch all the holiday movies on the Hallmark Channel.At 4:45, I attempt to pee one more time
TaylorAt the hospital, Jackson is escorted in one direction while I am wheeled onto the elevator toward the obstetrics ward. Alone again. I cannot deliver these twins alone. When I ask where they took Jackson, I am assured he will join me as soon as he can. Nurses escort me into a labor room, one asks me questions, as another prepares the bed and room for me, while a third lays out a pad and gown for me. They scurry about quickly this way and that, I stand stone-still, scared of the impending delivery and pain.“I’m Taylor Taft, my physician is Dr. Harrison at North Kansas City Hospital. I’m carrying twins, and my induction is scheduled for tomorrow.” I rattle off my answers to her questions. This nurse adds the ambulance notes to my file, while I am helped into my hospital gown, and assisted onto the large pad on my new bed. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!I gave my real name and not Kennedy’s. Dr. Harrison has my records under Kennedy Hayes. Pain sears through my lower back interrupting my thou
Taylor“The babies?” I cannot even form a sentence; fear clogs my throat. Tears well in my eyes as sharp pain forms in my lower back. I cringe, moving my hands to massage the area.“The babies need us to hurry, this happens sometimes. We move quick and the three of you’ll be just fine. You are experiencing back labor. The pain comes and goes, right?” Dr. Harding inquires.I nod yes. I’m scared. Dr. Harrison discussed the possibility of C-section with us at more than one appointment. I thought the fact I carried the twins full-term meant we were out of the woods. I told myself the twins were perfect, and my pregnancy was perfect. Nurses scurry here and there. An IV starts and my chart updates. An anesthesiologist enters to discuss my medical history and explain the spinal I’ll receive in the operating room. A nurse with razor and a tub of water in hand prepares to shave the surgical area. She smiles at me and claims my continued waxing made her task very easy. I attempt to smile throug
Taylor“Welcome back,” a male nurse greets as I struggle to open my heavy eyes.I take in my surroundings. The wall at the foot of the bed contains clipboards and a gigantic clock, signaling it is 1:00 a.m. Two occupied beds line the wall to my right. On my left, a tall, thin brown-haired nurse holds my wrist, taking my pulse. His dark-rimmed glasses add character to his lightly freckled face. “You’re in recovery. Dr. Harding and your handsome man accompanied the twins to the nursery.” His name tag informs his name is Reggie.“Healthy?” My dry voice rasps.“Very healthy. They have an impressive set of lungs on them. Their loud cries sang to us as they rolled toward the nursery,” Nurse Reggie smiles.I attempt to itch my nose. My arms won’t move. I attempt to lift my head, but nothing seems to work.“The spinal will wear off slowly. What do you need?” he asks.I explain my cheeks and nose itch. He uses a cool, damp cloth to wash my entire face. “Nurse Reggie?” I ask.He shakes my hand e
TaylorNurse Adams pushes buttons on my IV pump. “Do you have names picked out for your twins?” she asks, making small talk.I simply nod yes. I don’t want to divulge the names in case Kennedy or Jackson have changed their minds.Tears over take me; I can’t blame these on hormones. My time in the cozy family of three has come to an end. After months of company, I’m alone again. Although Kennedy and I struggled during the pregnancy, Jackson and I grew very close. I will miss our short evening walks, trips to sneak fast food, as well as times watching football games and ESPN. I hiccup.“Look who I have,” Nurse Johnson announces. “Time to meet mommy.” She wheels a bassinet in front and another behind her. My eyes take in the soft blue and pale pink hats. She parks the beds to the side and turns to me. “Are you ready to hold your twins?” I should say no. Kennedy and Jackson should hold them before I do. It’s not my place, but I cannot fight the overwhelming need to cuddle them to my chest
TaylorNurse Johnson peeks her head in after knocking. “Sorry to interrupt,” she approaches my bedside. She quickly records my vitals. “Your IV will beep soon. Page us and we will change it out.” Smiling at Jackson, then to me, she clutches her chest. “Too precious. Need anything?”“I’m starving,” I confess. “We wrecked on the way to dinner, then with the birth of the twins... I didn’t eat.”I look at the wall clock noting it is 3:15. I should be asleep instead of ordering dinner.“I’ll put in an order for two meals,” Nurse Johnson promises as she leaves.“I’m not hungry,” Jackson states.“You’ll need your strength to hold your twins all day,” she reminds him.“I just can’t get enough of them,” Jackson confesses, sitting beside me. “How will I ever get anything done at home?”“Oh, you’ll get plenty done,” I inform him. “There will be baby laundry, changing dirty diapers, and midnight feedings.” “With you nursing, I won’t have to worry about the nighttime feedings,” Jackson argues.“So
At the Same Time Near the NurseryJacksonI stand, peeking through nursery windows, watching the nurses flitter from one infant to another. My twins sleep side-by-side, soundly near the window. Taylor thinks I’m still with Kennedy. A nurse approaches my side.“Jackson, a gentleman approached the front desk requesting to visit with you or Taylor.”“Where is he now?” I ask, scanning the area. “Who is he?” “His name is Howard Buchanan. He is still at the front entrance,” the nurse informs.“Can he come to me, or must I go to him?” I question, running my hands through my hair, worrying it might be the neighbors coming to visit. “If you agree to see him, I can have them buzz him back,” she offers.I stare at my babies while I wait for Howard Buchanan to arrive. “Twins?” a deep male voice asks.I nod, not taking my eyes off my perfect little daughter and son to take in the stranger beside me.“I regret contacting you with all you are going through, but I needed to see you. I needed you t