My big fear that my pregnancy would totally derail my career hadn’t come true. Actually, the opposite had happened.
The Davidson project had taken off, and Marta had been so pleased with how I’d handled it ? vomit incident notwithstanding ? that she’d given me progressively bigger and bigger projects to head up, the latest of which had been playing a key role in negotiating the construction of a massive new subdivision in Boulder.
When I’d hit month seven, however, Marta had insisted on letting me take off for maternity leave. I’d been totally against the idea, of course. If it were up to me, I’d be working until my water broke.
So, we’d compromised. She’d keep me off any major projects until I was back to full capacity, but in the meantime, she’d let me handle some of the remote administration work that needed to be done. Fine with me.
Between my successes at work and living with my parents ? which had been a major help ? I’d saved quite a bit of money, enough to where I could start seriously thinking about buying a house big enough for me and the kids. Life was going really, really well.
I couldn’t ever get too excited, though. As soon as I did, Noah would appear in my thoughts like some ghost of guilt.
I hadn’t told him or anyone else about his parentage. As far as my friends and family and work were concerned, the father of the twins was some anonymous man from the masquerade ball all those months back. It made me feel like shit.
“Here we are!” Cammy popped back into the apartment, pizza boxes in hand. She always had a way of showing up right when I was in the middle of thinking about her dad – almost as if the universe were trying to tell me something.
She plopped the boxes onto the coffee table, passing out a plate for each of us.The Officeplayed as we loaded up our plates.
As I raised a slice of the double-pepperoni deep dish to my mouth, I realized that the food just didn’t sound good. I put the slice back down without taking a bite. Cammy, who was always on food patrol with me, looked over with a skeptical expression on her face.
“What’s up?”
I placed my hands on my belly. The twins were kicking a bit, but there was also a dull ache that I hadn’t felt before.
“I think…I think it’s gas or something. Yeah, that’s got to be it.”
Cammy didn’t seem convinced. “You’ve got gas? You sure about that?”
“Of course, I’m sure. What else would it be? It’s like…achy in my stomach and radiating out. Has to be gas.”
Cammy pursed her lips together. No doubt she had other possibilities swirling in her head.
“Let’s hear it,” I said. The pain began to fade, which put me a little at ease.
“It’s a dull ache, right? I mean, I’m not an expert about these kinds of things, but Iamthe daughter of an expert.”
“Yeah.”
She pursed her lips and looked askance. “I don’t know. I don’t want to get you worried or anything, but isn’t that kind of dull, aching pain what contractions feel like when they’re starting?”
My blood ran cold. The due date for the twins wasn’t for another three weeks.
“I don’t think that’s it,” I said. “I’ve been eating like crap the last few days, probably just my stomach rebelling.”
“Could be. Just want to be on the safe side, you know? From what I remember my dad saying, twins are known to come early.”
"Yeah, my doc did say the same thing,” I admitted.
I’d been getting myself ready for the birth, taking classes, and watching as many YouTube videos I could find on the subject of not only childbirth but childbirth with twins.
Cammy had even offered to be a part of it, coming with me to a few breathing classes so she could help if she happened to be there during the big day.
I still felt unprepared.
The dull aching faded, relief coming along with it. Once it was gone, I turned my attention back to the pizza on the plate in front of me, grabbing it and taking a big bite.
“See?” I asked, my mouth full. “Would I be tearing into a giant slice of double-pepperoni pizza if I were going into labor? Not likely.”
She smiled. “OK, fine. Seriously though! If youweregoing into labor, we’d need to be all over it. Just saying.”