Unmistakable (21 page)

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Authors: Gigi Aceves

BOOK: Unmistakable
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Jake leans his forehead against her belly. “I know, babe. Piece of cake.”

Trish smiles and says, “Piece of pie.”

“There you have it, a pie fest brought to you by the pie couple. Keep it up, and Marie Callender’s or any bakery within a five mile radius will be in business,” I retort back as a means to lighten the somber mood in the room.

Trish mouths ‘thank you’ to me. I’m her go to girl to calm the raging bull in Jake. I understand, too well, why Jake feels this way, because it’s exactly how I feel. Knowing the person I’m so in love with, who I can’t survive without is in peril, it drives me to the point of madness where nothing exists, but fear. It’s a cancer that festers and breathes negativity. It inundates my soul and mind with constant torture.

A nurse pushes a piece of equipment into the room. I’m assuming, it’s the ultrasound machine. Excitement in seeing the babies pulses nonstop in me, and more so for Trish and Jake.

“Alright, let’s see what we have here, shall we? I’m gonna do a pelvic exam, then an ultrasound to put both your minds at ease, especially yours, Jake,” Dr. O’Connor says.

Dr. O’Connor proceeds to do the pelvic exam while Jake and I both hold Trish’s hands. Jake’s pain filled eyes remain glued to the doctor, as Trish’s eyes are closed while her mouth is moving in deep prayer. A single tear falls on my best friend’s face, and at this moment, my heart feels so numb….numb of everything. If I could only take their fear and anxiety away, I would.

I whisper in Trish’s ear, “I love you, Momma Igloo. Stay strong for the kiddos, okay? You know who to pull it from; remember, you were the one who told me I could always lean on HIM. I’m leaning like a gangster; you should, too.”

My little crack earns a smile, on her face. Dr. O’Connor looks at Trish first, then at Jake, stands up, and washes her hands without saying anything. That silent, but full of meaning action, causes me to have goose bumps all over me, while Jake and Trish follow her every movement. She turns around and her serious face says everything….everything we don’t want to hear.

“Trish, we have to do a cervical stitch, because you have a weak cervix. That’s what caused the light bleeding. That’s also why you’re experiencing abdominal cramps. Doing the surgery will prevent the babies from being born way too soon. This is a normal procedure, and yes, there are risks involved. She’s susceptible to infection, it may also cause premature labor, and other things. However, the good outweighs the bad. Also, your BP is slightly elevated, and unfortunately, I can’t give you any meds to counter that. Bed rest and no stress are the only solutions. You’re at twenty weeks, Trish, and I would like you to be at least thirty-one weeks. The steroid shots to help develop their lungs will still be given. Now, Jake, you have to understand, she’s carrying four babies, and as we’ve discussed, it’s not going to be a walk in the park. I know, you have a million questions, but let’s take one step at a time, okay? Let’s do the surgery, see how she feels, and we’ll go from there. Now, how about we check how the fantastic four are doing?”

As soon as Dr. O’Connor places the wand on Trish, you could almost hear a pin drop in the room. We gravitate toward the monitor, waiting anxiously to see the babies, to witness the lives moving about in Trish’s belly. With a few flicks, there they are. Tears spill out of my eyes, and everyone else’s in the room. Remembering what their parents went through, what Trish had to go through, and still about to go through just proves the unbreakable love that flows between them. It spills over to their babies and to us. These four babies are loved beyond anyone’s imagination. I see the four of them as little eagles rising from the ashes, just as their dad did.

Dr. O’Connor press a few buttons and she asks, “Do you want to know the sexes? They weren’t cooperating the last time, but I can easily tell right now. As we discussed before, the two embryos that were inserted split into two; therefore, you will have two sets of identical twins. Let’s see if they’ll be two sets of boys, or girls, or one set of each.”

Jake answers, “Yeah, we wanna meet our munchkins.”

“Okay, you see baby one, right there, is a boy, and the one on the opposite side, baby two is a boy. They sure are protecting the little ones in the middle.”

“That’s my boys,” Jake softly says with a shaky voice.

Trish’s face is wet with tears, while she grips Jake with one hand, she caresses her tummy with the other.

“Now, baby three, next to baby one is a…..” Dr. O’Connor stops and presses a few buttons. “Okay, baby three is a girl. It’s safe to assume baby four is also a girl. The girls are little compared to the boys, but that’s kind of expected. That’s why I need you on bed rest, Trish.
They
need you there.”

Jake whispers as he kisses his wife, “Babe, we have two little angels. Don’t worry, Trish; our boys are there. They’ll know what to do.”

I don’t notice the doctor leaving, because Jake’s love filled voice fills the quiet. Mark Harri’s, Find Your Wings has been the lullaby he’s sung to their babies since finding out Trish is pregnant.

 

It's only for a moment you are mine to hold
The plans that heaven has for you
Will all too soon unfold
So many different prayers I'll pray
For all that you might do
But most of all I'll want to know
You're walking in the truth
And If I never told you
I want you to know
That as I watch you grow

 

Seeing them like this humbles my heart, but it makes it hurt, too. Tami’s eyes and mine are flowing with tears nonstop at this point. Giving Jake and Trish a moment to themselves is a good thing….it’s always good for Jake.

“I love it when you sing to us.”

“And I love doing it. How are you?”

Instead of answering, she looks at me, puckering her lips, so I’ll kiss her. Of course, I do. I kiss her as though she’s the air I breathe. It’s killing me not to be intimate with my wife. After all, it’s been a while, a long while, since jake junior has seen action. I crave her like an addict, but if kissing is the only option I have, I’ll take it.

The moment she opens up for me, her lips work mine into a frenzy. She links her fingers behind my neck and controls the kiss, as I suck on her lower lip, tugging on it a little with my teeth; she moans which awakens my dick. Shit! I need to put the brakes on this lip locking fest. Releasing her lips, I travel down her neck, knowing it’ll drive her crazy, just like what she’s doing to me.

Leaving butterfly kisses on her neck, I tell her, “Babe, sorry we have to stop. It’s not fair to my dick. You’re driving me fucking crazy, Trish.”

Her never ending concern for me shines through her eyes. It never fails, she always thinks of me, even now. “Jake, stop worrying. I’m fine.”

I close my eyes, willing myself to calm down. “Do you still feel pain?”

“I’m fine, but I want to say something. I know, I shouldn’t think about it, but I want us to be prepared when the situation comes.” She intertwines her fingers with mine and lays them on her bulging belly.

I know what she’s talking about, and I refuse to go there. The last time we were here, the doctor asked us, if for some reason her health were compromised, or the lives of any of our children, would we be willing to do a reduction. The term alone makes me want to punch a hole through the wall, because that route isn’t an option. Reducing means cutting my heart in half, and my love for my wife can’t ever be reduced. No one will ever take away anyone from
us
.

Shaking my head, I say, “No! How can we pick? How can you ask me to do that? I can’t. I want them all, babe. I.Want.Them.All.” The giant size bolder stuck in my throat is making it hard to speak.

“I want them, too. But, if I’m not all there to decide with you, I want you to pick them over me….all of them for me. Promise me, Jake.” Pressing on my hand she says, “Please, look at me.” She asks so softly, it seems she’s talking to herself, and not to me.

It seems, shaking my head is gonna be a constant movement for me. “I can’t promise that, babe. Don’t make me. You’re gonna be fine, end of story.” I pull my hands away from hers, and that alone hurts me…it slashes my heart wide open.

I walk toward the window, wiping my face with my shirt. I’m back to talking to God again, begging, and pleading this time; not for my life, but for my wife and unborn children. I thought, I had prepared myself for this. I was briefed on what to expect; however, when it’s happening right in front of me, nothing but worry coats my entire being. The anxiety that creeps in my heart and mind disarms me. I feel as though I’m drowning in my own fears.

“Jake, you promised me, you’d protect us, and here’s when I need you to do it. It’s not about us…it’s about them.”

I look at my beautiful wife with daggers in my eyes, “I told you, don’t make me choose! I can’t, and I won’t!” Taking a deep breath and calming myself I say, “If we could ask every single one of them who they’d choose, between you and me, they’d choose you, because a part of me…my blood flows through them, and it has your name on it, Trish. So, my kids will fight to live for you, because they can’t lose you, just as I can’t. If you ask me to choose, you’re asking me to give up on life, because I’ll die being apart from you.”

“So, in a way, you’re saying you’ll pick me, then,” she says with resignation and sadness in her voice.

Shaking my head again, I say, “No, what I’m saying is, if you want me to pick them over you, we’ll all fucking die. We can’t survive without you. That’s what I’m saying. We all live for each other, period. From today until all four are safely in our arms, I don’t want you listening to anything negative anyone tells you, because what do they know? HE knows, Trish. I know…I know, they’ll be okay, believe me, please. I need you to believe that. No one’s going to choose. HE will do the choosing, okay? Can we agree to that?”

She opens her arms to me, and I fall into them willingly…hungrily. “Okay, Jake, I’m not going to ask you to choose.”

I squirm away from her arms, but hold her face firmly with my hands. “And, you aren’t going to make the decision. Don’t think about death when life is growing inside you…when I’m breathing for you….because of you. Life will constantly throw us a curve ball. Yes, there may be times I can’t catch it, and you will; or you can’t, and I will. If life’s being a bitch, and neither of us can, HE will…HE will always catch it for us.”

“Have I told you lately that I love you?”

“Hmm, I can’t remember, but you can refresh my memory. I won’t mind.” I run my finger over her lips, down her neck, and I let my hand rest over her heart that belongs to me, plus four more. “No more negative thoughts, okay? Let’s dwell on the good things, and the lives we’ve created. Let’s erase the what-ifs, and replace them with the we-cans of life. We’ll do this together, because we have four precious angels we want to see at the end of this race. Let’s focus on how to get there, okay?”

My little good munchkins, each one of them, sounds off by either kicking or moving about, because there’s a circus act happening in Trish’s stomach. I start talking to them, giving them a pep talk, the same way my dad would give my sister and me to get us moving.

“Munchkins, I want you guys to help each other out. Be each other’s source of strength.” I lay my forehead against Trish’s tummy, wanting to feel my kids move again. Then I whisper, “Please…please, continue fighting for us...I need you boys to stay strong. Protect your sisters. Focus on mommy’s heartbeat, and my hands on her tummy. Never give up, because mommy won’t…I won’t. We’ll always protect all four of you, so don’t be afraid. We may not be able to hold you guys tight in our arms, but you’ve been in our hearts from the time you guys were conceived and will remain there until the end of time, so please hold on, hold on tight to mommy…I do.”

Trish runs her fingers through my hair, calming my nerves. I look up and there’s my smile, and my heart soars into the heavens as it always does. My love for this woman is beyond the scope of time, and her hold on me…is unbreakable. The bond we have with our kids is a bond created with love, formed by our faith, and sealed with HIS love.

Trish’s stomach getting hard interrupts my mussing, and puts me on alert. I don’t know if it’s a contraction or what. Instinctively, my hands go on her belly, cradling it…needing to protect them.

“Are you okay?”

She nods as she bites her lower lip and blows out the breath she’s holding. “My sciatica is killing me, but I’m good…I’m okay.”

I close my eyes, so she doesn’t see the fear in them. The dread that’s slowly covering my entire being is squeezing the life out of me. My angel nudges me, trying to get my attention. My mind is elsewhere…it’s in that state between fear and panic where nothing exists, but the problem that lies within. The problem that’s the situation with my wife and kids. How can I control this?

“Jake, you can’t control this, babe. You need to let this go. I need you to let this go for us. Eyes on me, please.”

My wife uses the same line I say to her to get her attention. She doesn’t have to say it. She always has mine; therefore, I focus my eyes on her just as she asks. Trish speaks in love, but my worry for her and the babies doesn’t diminish.

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