Topsy Turvy Kinda Love
without worrying about an art show too. Worrying about anything is not a good idea for the baby. I’ve fallen so hard in love with this little one, and it isn’t even born yet.I hope one day soon I’ll be able to feel the first kick of our child. I’m consumed with overwhelming emotions during the first trimester. Spending most of it reading every book, I can get my hands on and then terrifying myself with every bad thing that might happen between now and the birth.
I wake Brooks up time and time again when my brain won’t shut off with the questions constantly battering it. I’ll be the first to admit the fear of the unknown scares me.
Scared I’ll do something wrong.
Scared something will happen, and I’ll lose that tiny little life that Brooks and I created.
Scared that I’d turn into my mother and rely on drugs to chase the feelings away.
Brooks always manages to calm me and make me believe we’ll be better than our parents are.
We started talking about baby names, but without knowing if it’s a girl or boy, it kind of leaves us standing still. All that changes today.
We’re about to do the ultrasound that tells us if our little bundle is a girl or a boy. Dr. Morgan offered to do a genetic test at week 12 to determine the gender, but Brooks wanted to wait. Something about being together when we found out the gender.
The first couple of times after we’d seen my OB, he’d treated me with princess hands during sex. He wouldn’t give me rough, worrying that he may hurt the baby or me in some way. I’d finally sat him down one night and told him that if he planned on not getting laid for the next year, then he needed to up his game… and up his game he did.
My love for Brooks grows daily. It’s a constant in this life. Knowing that his love will never ebb or flow, it’s steady.
He wakes up and holds my hair as I puke my morning away, then he’ll make me a Rooibos tea and give me saltines, we’ll talk about everything we’d read the night before while I work on my paintings, generally followed by a quickie, and then he’d leave for the day if he’s scheduled to work.
We’ve become domestic, and for some reason, it doesn’t bother me.
At night he comes home, and I go to work.
On nights that I don’t work, we catch up on whatever show we’ve been binging on Netflix, and he’ll rub my feet. I’m spoiled with this whole foot rubbing thing. Brooks even makes it his mission while grocery shopping to make sure I’m fully stocked up on dill pickles, ice cream, lays, and chocolate sauce.
When this crazy train started months ago, I never thought I’d be here now. Pregnant and barefoot in the kitchen with the love of my life.
Brooks has applied with a trade school to build on his desire to own a woodworking company. He wants to get a better job, and once the baby is here, we’ll be making quite a few changes.
Today, we’re back in the same room I was in for my eight-week appointment all those weeks ago. Luckily, no detestable stirrups this time. Dr. Morgan says we should be able to tell the sex with a non-uterine ultrasound, and that makes me gleeful. Just thinking about that probe makes my V cringe.
I don another one of those fashion gowns the nurse provides me. It rests against my bump, while a blanket covers my lower half. Score for being able to keep on my underwear.
The door opens, and the doctor walks in. “Mia, Brooks, how’s momma doing today?”
“Good, anxious to find out what we’re having,” I blurt out first.
“Alright, well, let’s get the ultrasound up and see what we can see.” She sits down on the stool beside me, getting the machine up and running. Cool gel hits my belly, a vast difference in temperature from my skin. As she trails the wand over my stomach, my eyes are glued to the black and white screen, waiting. Brooks squeezes my hand, but I won’t pull my eyes away, so I just squeeze back. I want to see as much of my baby as I can.
The wand moves over my stomach effortlessly thanks to the gel, and she presses down slightly. The blip on the screen no longer looks like a blip. There are arms and legs, even toes and fingers. The baby’s heartbeat thumps loudly throughout the room, and its music to my ears every time I hear it. It calms me that he or she has a strong heartbeat. Dr. Morgan makes a face at the screen, moves the wand again, another weird look. “Well, that’s interesting.”
My heartbeat shatters. Every bad thing I’ve read in the books comes to the forefront in my brain. I swallow audibly. I sneak a peek at Brooks, and his face looks pale. We’ve talked about all the things that could go wrong, so I’m sure his brain is scrambling to make sense too.
Getting up the courage, I ask, “What, what is it? What’s wrong?”
A smile crosses her lips before she points to the screen. I’m not sure what she’s looking at. “It appears there are two babies in there.”
“There are what?” Brooks whispers to my side.
“You’re having twins…”
“Twins…” It’s all that slips out between his lips before he hits the ground, hard.
“Brooks!” I yell, catching Dr. Morgan’s attention.
“Nurse!” Dr. Morgan calls out to no one in particular before the door opens, and one of the nurses I’ve seen before pops in. “We’ve lost Mr. Jansen to some exciting news.” She points to Brooks on the floor.
“Brooks!” I’m in a panic. He just passed out and I can’t move, I’m frozen in place as the nurse moves to help him.
Dr. Morgan grabs a hold of my hands, making me look at her. “Mia, I’m going to need you to stay