Chapter 01 Again

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Halloween, 2000

Mary Yang felt miserable. She was just over six months pregnant with twins, her 'morning' sickness had never really gone away (nor was it only in the mornings), and she knew, knew, that something was wrong. "Mrs. Wu?" the OB/GYN nurse called out for the fourth time. Mary ground her teeth in frustration and nausea; this particular nurse liked to 'honey' all the pregnant women, which drove Mary nuts. Being a five foot tall Chinese woman in Concord, NH was hard enough with all the slant eyed 'jokes' and people 'joking' that they had 'winged the wong doorbell' (but of course not said in a racist manner) without being called honey and dear as if she was a three year old. Or being called Mrs. Wu when that was not her name. Charles Wu was her husband, but she was Dr. Mary Yang. She had an D.Eng in Electrical Engineering and was a tenure track professor. What she wasn't was 'Mrs. Wu.' She had a Chinese name, of course, but when in small town America, it was better to use an 'American' name.

Finally Nurse 'Ratched' sighed dramatically and called out "Dr. Yang?" Mary smiled inwardly at winning this particular battle, and heaved her bulk out of the chair. They went through her vitals check and routine questions. She managed to pee mostly in the cup and only a little bit on her hand. Which then resulted in losing her breakfast into the toilet. And peeing on the floor as she heaved. How embarrassing. At least she was wearing a dress and managed to keep the skirt dry. By the time she managed to haul herself up onto the examination table, she was shivering and shaking. "Something's wrong with my babies," she told the doctor. He smiled that fake smile of his that said she was overexaggerating. Because he, of course, had successfully carried a pregnancy to term before so he knew exactly what she was going through. The ass.

Unfortunately, this was the only OB/GYN practice in Concord her insurance allowed for, outside of the medical center at the University. She really did not want her colleagues knowing the intimate details of her pregnancy....

Dr. Ass strapped the fetal monitor around her anyways with his condescending 'one must humor pregnant women, don't you know' attitude. And then his face turned serious and he grabbed the gel in one hand and dragged an ultrasound machine over with his foot. He gelled her belly up, disregarding the fact that she wasn't wearing her pee-soaked panties anymore and she was completely exposed from the waist down.

Half an hour later Mary found herself strapped onto a gurney in a MediVac helicopter headed to Boston. The doctor, another one, was checking her intravenous lines and monitoring her babies' health. Fetal distress something or other. Words she didn't understand spewed out of his mouth as he tried to explain what was going on with her babies. This doctor wasn't as patronizing, "All three of you are going to be just fine," he reassured her. "The doctors and staff at MGH are phenomenal. They're going to take great care of Baby B in the PICU, and OB/GYN are going to keep you and Baby A healthy until he's finished growing."

"Michael Gabriel," Mary told him. "Not Baby B."

"Good choice," he nodded. "He's going to need every bit of help he can get. The doctors there are as close to gods as humans can get, but asking the Archangels to help certainly won't hurt, either."

It was a dangerous surgery. Any piece going wrong and she could lose both of her boys. And even if the surgery was successful, Michael, being so little, had a high probability of being blind, having mental and physical disorders, and/or becoming seriously ill. There was also the rather high possibility that he would leave the PICU in a casket rather than a carseat. However, to not perform the surgery would mean death for both boys and possibly the mother.

The surgery was successful. And Michael seemed to thrive in the PICU; he passed all the tests thrown at him. His younger twin, Matthew, was born eight weeks later, and all three went home from the hospital on the same day.

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