Exactly What We Weren't Expecting, Part I

I think most people would like to be in their beds peacefully sleeping at 4 am.  I am no exception.  Unfortunately, any experience involving a cozy bed and peaceful sleep was just an illusion for me this morning.  Instead, my experience was made up of wrinkled covers, lots of writhing and burning pain as I popped vitamin “I.B.” (Ibuprofen) like candy every hour.  My dear husband, on the other hand, was having no problem catching up on his REM-sleep that was confirmed (to my great annoyance) by his loud snoring next to me in the bed.

“Dear, I think I’m dying.”  I could barely gasp these words as I grabbed my belly and glanced at the clock for the hundredth time.  I had been experiencing shooting pain for at least three solid hours now.  When is this Ibuprofin (practically the entire bottle) going to kick in? I thought.

“Okay…let me know if you think it’s serious.”  replied my delirious husband, Bob, followed with more snoring.

“I think it is.  Did you catch me saying I think I’m dying?!  I also talked to a nurse on the nurse-line and she said, ‘You need to come right in.’  I informed him of this, then began moaning again.

“Oh.”  Bob rolled over and the LOUD snoring began again.

Unbelievable.

“I’m now dead.  This is Tara’s ghost speaking.  It’s too late.”  I poked my head out of the blanket cocoon I was convulsing in to inform my husband of the newest development.

“Hm?  Sounds good.”  he muttered, more snoring.  After my gentle (that’s code for rude) shove out of bed, he was surprisingly awake and finally swayed to drive his beloved to the Emergency Room.  Bob stumbled around the room, getting dressed, before heading downstairs to make himself some toast and coffee.  Wait…toast and coffee?  What is this, a relaxing brunch before a fun field trip to the hospital? Good grief!

“Want some toast, hon?”  He asked as I followed him downstairs to continue my convulsions on the coach.  Yes, I am really thinking of breakfast right now?

My mother-in-law arrived a few moments later to watch our sleeping crew and I was still blowing her grateful kisses while we sped away to the hospital.

We were quickly admitted and I changed into a sexy XXL hospital gown that was just what I could have used a few months before, during my 9th month of pregnancy, when my belly was so huge that it was in a different zip code.

The nurse rapidly went through check-in procedures before sending me to the bathroom with a bucket to pee in (seriously, a BUCKET?).  “We better rule out that you’re not pregnant.”

I couldn’t hold back the laughter, “We have four children under the age of five including a newborn that is five months old.  My husband is required to wear a coat of arms before he comes to bed at night so if we are pregnant, I will not be on speaking terms with the Trojan Man anymore!”

The nurse promised they would be back with those test results very soon before she slipped out of the room.  It seemed like only minutes later when the door burst open and a cheery faced doctor greeted us with these shocking words,

“Well, CONGRATULATIONS!”  The doctor held a clipboard in one hand and wore a huge grin on his face.  Meanwhile, Bob and I were wearing mouths that had just hit the floor and I was one shade above albino.

The only thing the doctor could have added at that moment to make my health status move from “on-the-brink-of-a-heart-attack” to “death-by-shock” was to add, “And you’re having TWINS!”  I could already see tomorrow’s front page headlines: “Government Sends Mental-Health Team to Small Town to Evaluate the Sanity of Local Couple with Six Children Under the Age of Five”…or something like that.  I started breathing hard and fast.  A big paper bag to hyperventilate in would be really nice right now!

After seeing our shocked faces, the Doctor double-checked his chart, “I see you guys are having...”

To be continued tomorrow…