I hadn’t realized until the kids came how much I really did enjoy cartoons. I mean, they weren’t adult themes, but they were funny. AndCandylandwasn’t too bad and only got boring if the kids insisted we play over and over.
We were all three invested. We didn’t really have to think about it. We had instant love for these kids the moment they showed up on our doorstep. They needed us, but I was not sure we comprehended we needed them, until in bed the next night, Penn said, “This feels so right to me.”
“Me, too,” Freid and I replied together.
“It feels like things are complete. This was part of the deal. Of us. Of Fate. Your dream,” I said.
Freid held us both against his chest. “Are you sure? It’s disruptive.”
“Sure, it’s disruptive,” Penn had replied. “But it’s perfect. We have the three of us. Somehow that’s easier. And we can take turns with time off.”
That first week had gone by so fast.
After the kids were safely in bed, the main light off and the night-light on, the three of us went into the living room for our alone time. Freid brought in wine and snacks. We cuddled on the couch, all three still high from kid-time.
“I’m falling in love with them more every day,” I said.
They both agreed.
Suddenly, we were interrupted. Miles stood before us in his new Ninja Turtle pajamas, his brown bear under one arm, his free hand wiping at his eyes.
“Miles?” Freid leaned forward.
“Bad dream, Papa.”
Freid picked him up and set him on his lap. “You’re okay. Just a dream. Sit here with us for a minute, buddy. It will fade.”
Freid was the closest to the kids. For now. Soon, we all would get our time with them.
Within a minute, Miles was sound asleep against Freid’s chest.
My body filled with warmth. Freid was amazing. Looking at him with Miles made my eyes fill. I put my arms around Penn, who leaned into me. Together, the bond flared with the warmth of family, home, love.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Penn
We’d been so busy with the changes in our lives that I hadn’t slowed down enough to notice how pregnant I’d gotten. It wasn’t until about a week ago, when my paternity pants no longer fit, that I realized I was huge. And now that I had, it was the only thing I could think about. It was going to be a matter of days before I had to get our baby from inside me to outside, and that was equally terrifying and exciting.
Our little one was a gymnast in training, twisting and turning and kicking all day long. Not only did my mates love touching my belly and feeling our little one so did the kids. They thought it was hilarious.
All of them had experienced pregnancy in their foster home, which made it easier for us because they knew that a baby was coming and that at the end, there would actually be a baby. That sounded like a no-brainer, except I’d met kids through the library who thought their new sibling was going to just stay inside their parent’s belly forever and were shocked when there was an actual newborn in their home.
I was glad we weren’t going to have to deal with any of that. We were juggling enough as it was.
Saturday morning, I woke up thinking I was going to conquer the world: get laundry done, go to the grocery store to pick up some easy-to-cook foods for the week, and maybe take the kids to the park. But then, halfway through making breakfast, my stomach tightened. It wasn’t painful, but it was definitely noticeable. According to what the midwife taught me, it was a sign of labor, which meant I was staying close to home. I did manage to get the laundry done with my mates’ help, but that was it.
I didn’t tell anyone that I suspected labor was coming on or had possibly started. I didn’t want my mates to be hovering or worried. I just wanted to go about my day. And so we did. We finished the laundry, played with bubbles outside, and had macaroni and cheese for lunch by request. We played a very modified version ofCandyland, where we were mostly just moving pieces around the board and laughing at the different characters. It was a great day, and even though my stomach did tighten up quite a bit, I didn’t feel anything that my midwife said was “progressing” and required me to call them. I chalked it up to Braxton Hicks contractions and called it a day.
I’d had a huge burst of energy in the middle of my pregnancy that had long since left, and I was back at the exhaustion stage that I experienced while I was first pregnant. When it came time to sleep, I hopped in bed, closed my eyes, and fell asleep almost instantly.
When I woke, the clock said it was far too early to get up, and I wouldn’t have even contemplated getting out of bed, except I had to pee. My bladder was far too small for the size of the baby who was sitting on it. I rolled out of bed and waddled into the bathroom, pleasantly surprised that I didn’t wake up either of my mates.
As I took care of business, my stomach contracted again, and this time it was painful. So painful, in fact, that I had to grab onto the counter. Contractions didn’t change that quickly, at least not from anything I’d read, which was far more than I should have for my own peace of mind. I must’ve been sleeping hard if I missed them intensifying.
When the contraction subsided, I washed my hands and snuck into the living room where my phone was charging. I turned on the TV with the volume off and watched an old sitcom as I waited for the next contraction to hit. When it did, I startedthe timer. Very quickly, I realized I wasn’t just a little bit in labor. I was pretty far along.
I sent a text message to the midwife, who said they would be there shortly, and then I woke my alphas. They were up instantly, no yawning or falling back asleep. They popped out of bed and were ready to go, asking what I needed more than once.
