"Mild panic. That's probably the best way to sum it up," I told Christine. She asked me how I was doing as we rode home from the doctors appointment. I don't think I had said anything much in about 20 minutes so I can't blame her for the inquiry.
Two babies. Two of them. What was I supposed to do with two tiny children? I don't even know how to take care of one... Hell, for the last couple months I've barely been able to take care of myself, and I'm a grown adult. I'd need double the help, double the advice and double the, well, double the everything. If I wasn't nervous about my impending parenthood before, I certainly was now.
I suppose this explains the size of my growing bump, I thought. I imagined my stomach growing even more and stifled a small laugh that wasn't unnoticed by Christine.
"What's so funny," she inquired, now aware of the fact that I had completely zoned out from our conversation.
I smiled, and I think she was glad he mood was still light. "I was just thinking," I smiled, "if I already look like this, what am I going to look like in 29 more weeks? I'm not going to be able to remain upright when I'm standing."
We both laughed, thinking about the impending obstacles of my pregnancy. On a more serious note though, a multiple pregnancy did carry a higher risk of complications. The doctor said I was healthy but I knew I would have to be very careful, I knew myself better than to think that fear would ever leave my mind.
More than anything else I was thinking about, however, was how much I was already in love with the two little lives growing inside of me. I don't think my heart could contain any more joy. All I want right now is to call Lindsey. To rush into his arms and to tell him that he's going to be a daddy- that I a few months two perfect, tiny versions of us will enter this world- and how I hope they have his eyes and his smile and how I'm sure they'll have none of our flaws. I think of how much we wanted this for so many years, and how it never became a reality- until now. And I think about how I'm going to run through my front door and pick up my phone and beg him for forgiveness.
There. I said it.
The car came to a halt and we paid the driver, gathering our bags and heading inside, thankful to be out of the summer heat.
"Would you like a snack, love?" Christine asked, knowing my appetite was increasing with the minute.
"I'd love one," I nodded, grateful for her help now that I was eating for three. I shouted over my shoulder to her, advising that I'd be right out after quickly changing to more comfortable shoes.
Walking into my bedroom and closing the door for some privacy, I sat in an antique chair next to my desk as I picked up the telephone and quickly dialed Lindsey's number. I hadn't quite figured out what I was going to say to him, but I was so excited that it didn't matter.
The line rang and rang, and I glanced towards the clock on my nightstand, mentally calculating the time difference and willing him to pick up. The machine clicked on and I heard his voice offer a vague greeting and instruct me to leave a message. The machine beeped, my cue to spill my proverbial guts, and I froze. This was not the way it was supposed to happen. The first time he heard my voice again shouldn't be like this. My extension of the olive branch, my plea for forgiveness, shouldn't be a 6 second blurb on a machine. I took a deep breath, deciding if there was anything I could say that wouldn't come off as completely hollow. I quickly determined that there was no such topic of conversation and hung up the line. I'll try again later, I told myself, optimistic that I would be able to reach him soon.
After a quick snack Christine convinced me (convinced may be a strong word- rarely did I need to be talked into shopping) to go out and find some new maternity dresses- I was growing quickly and it would only be a moment until I was too large for my regular clothing. I purchased a few new outfits and a couple accessories I couldn't pass up and we then browsed the small shops on the nearby streets. We laughed and talked, excited by the mornings news, and stopped at a cafe to rest. I sipped a cup of tea and watched the world go by through my oversized sunglasses, just soaking in the day and thinking about how close to perfect my life currently was.
I just needed Lindsey. And I hoped I wasn't too late.
Returning home I was beyond exhausted. I didn't have the energy that I used to and all I wanted to do was to wash my face and crawl into bed. I bid Chris goodnight and retreaded to my bedroom, groaning mildly with relief as I finally lay down. I began to doze when the ringing phone brought me out of my slumber.
"Hello," I answered groggily.
"Hey," he said shortly, clearing his throat.
"Lindsey."
"Did I wake you up, Steph?" He questioned, knowing my normal sleep schedule would not find me in bed at this time of night.
"I- I just," I wasn't sure how to respond. "How are you Lindsey?"
"Stevie, I know it's a long shot but I had this message on my machine earlier and someone just called and hung up and we'll, I was hoping, err, I suppose wishing it was you. I'm sorry I shouldn't have called, we probably had our..."
"Lindsey!" I interrupted his rambling. "Lindsey, it was me."
"Oh." He seemed almost surprised.
I cleared my throat a bit, nervous about what I was about to asking him. "Would you be willing to, um, to come back to Italy? I'd like to talk to you."
I know it was a ridiculous request, and I held my breath a bit to wait for his answer.
"I'll be on the flight over," he didn't even hesitate. "Steph are you sure you're ok," he asked again.
"I'm fine. I've never been better," I responded honestly. "Lindsey I'm so sor-"
"Don't." He cut me off. "Let's not do this over the phone, Stevie. I shouldn't have pushed you last time. I'll see you tomorrow night. And Stevie," he added hesitantly.
"Yeah, Linds?"
"I'm so glad you called."
