Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep (Jimmy/Jacoby)

Jimmy and Jacoby Shaddix are back in the third installment of their story. Life with a toddler is challenging and we watch as they learn all about parenting, heartache, and the closeness of family.

Warning: Slash! MPREG!

Disclaimer: the famous folks are not mine, the made up ones are.

***

Prologue:

There are two pertinent sayings with deer: where there’s one, there more and don’t veer for deer. Eliza is fascinated with deer, because we have a salt lick in our backyard and she can watch the animals feed from our kitchen window. She’s also expert at alerting us to their presence in ditches. Her car seat is positioned in the middle of the back seat so she can see out better.

“Daddy! A deer! A deer!” she shouted, clapping her hands together happily.

I glanced to the right and left and then slammed on my breaks. Thump Damn. Turning the truck off, I got out and inspected the front end of my truck. The deer was lying on the side of the road, just another piece of road kill for the county to clean up. The truck, on the other hand, was dented and scratched, despite the protective bars on the front of the red vehicle. Oh well, I can deal with it later, since Eliza has to get to school. She hasn’t been late for preschool yet and we’re not stopping now.

I got back in the truck and turn the key over, confused when the truck did not rumble to life. The deer is not that big and there is no way it fucking killed this truck. Trust me, this thing is almost like a damn tank. So why it won’t start is beyond me.

“Fuck!” I shouted, slamming my hand onto the steering wheel. I took my phone out and called a tow-truck, noting Eliza’s worried look in the mirror. “It’s okay, baby.”

Once the operator answered, I explained where I was and what had happened. She promised to dispatch a truck right away and five minutes later, one of the local toy services was pulling up along side of me.

“Where to?” the woman asked, climbing out of her truck. She looked bored, and I’m wished we didn’t have to ride with her to Mondamin. She was glaring at my stomach, and I placed a protective hand over it. Did I mention that people are still prejudiced against gay people?

“Gary’s Service,” I said with a sigh. I got Eliza’s car seat out of my red truck and hoisted it into the cab of the tow truck. Thanks to my growing stomach, getting into the cab was going to be entertaining. I can’t believe my truck won’t start! Damn deer anyway. “Come on, Eliza, get up here.”

I took her hands as she climbed up onto the running board, then into the cab. I managed to make my way inside, though it was a definitely a struggle, and secured the seat. I was thankful that, at the age of three, she could climb into the car seat on her own. I buckled us both in, still wondering how in the world the deer had done that much damage.

“Daddy? I have to pee,” she said and I cringed, since we were just outside city limits still. She had a look of desperation on her face, and I hoped she wouldn’t have an accident now. After all, she’s still kind of a beginner at this and accidents do still happen from time to time.

“Can you wait until we get to the shop?” I asked, and she nodded, returning her gaze to the windshield. No doubt, this was a great new perspective on the world for her. “As soon as we get there, you can go potty, okay?”

She nodded again, smiling. At least she’s easy to appease, especially considering how easy it is to see things from this high up.

“Daddy? Am I gonna be late for school?” she asked, as the tow truck pulled into town. Thankfully, Mondamin wasn’t that far from where I broke down; sadly, Missouri Valley, where she goes to school, is another 10-15 minutes.

“Yeah, but I’ll call and let them know. Maybe Grandpa Hank can come get us.”

Just my luck, of course, Jacoby was at work. Thankfully, Hank has made a good recovery, if you will, from the death of his wife three years ago. We all still miss her like crazy, but he’s found a new way of life. Mostly, he enjoys babysitting for us, refusing to let us pay him. I took out my phone and dialed the preschool, amazed that my baby was in preschool already. She’d stated two months ago in August, and so far, she was doing fine. We have some tears on occasion when we drop her off, but that’s to be expected.

“Hey Jim,” Gary said, as I got off the phone with her teacher. I studied his face as I put the phone in my pocket and thankfully, he didn’t look grim. “It’s fixable.”

“Oh thank god,” I murmured, right as the baby kicked what I think was my kidney. I flinched and he smiled. “Sorry, organ shot. Damn that one hurt. What’s wrong with it?”

“Looks like mostly front end damage. I need to take a good look of course, but at first look, I don’t see any major damage. Have you called insurance yet?”

“Not yet. I can call LuAnne after I call Hank for a ride. This one has preschool today,” I explained, ruffling my daughter’s hair. She frowned and tried to flatten the slight mess I’d made of it. The tow truck driver handed me the car seat, then filled out a receipt, while I dug $40 out of my wallet. “How long do you think you’ll have it?”

“Hard to say. Right now, probably a week, hopefully less. It depends on if you want Aaron to do the body work or leave it dented and scratched.”

“Let me see what insurance will cover and decide. I want the body work done, but I know we can’t afford it.”

Gary nodded, as he moved to get my truck situated in the bay, while I took Eliza into the front part of the building. I called Hank, who said he’d be right down. I thanked him, sitting my daughter on a stool near the counter in the shop. She leafed through some of the magazines strewn about the counter top, oblivious to the stress this was going to cause. Things are going better for Jacoby and me but there are…financial problems, let’s just say.

“Is Grandpa Hank going to come get us?” Eliza asked, and I nodded, sitting next to her. She was bored with the magazines, so I pulled a book out of her backpack and handed that to her.

The shop is small, but that’s why I like it. I watched early morning commuters come and go from the gas pumps, shivering a bit. It was October, but it wasn’t a warm one. I tightened my coat a bit around myself, rubbing my hands together. Eliza was bundled up to her eyeballs, with her new winter coat, hat, and mitties. They’re not proper mittens because they don’t have a space for her thumb, so we call them mitties.

I nodded to answer her question and she smiled, closing her book. She can’t read yet, but likes to look at the pictures. “Good. I like Grandpa Hank.”

“Same here, kiddo,” I told her, as I tried to get warm. The pregnancy hasn’t been bad, really, but I’m cold all the freaking time. I’m 24 weeks or six months along now and everyone says it should be like having my own personal heater; instead, I’m constantly freezing. “Are you excited to go to school today?”

“Not really. I don’t like the kids there; they’re kind of dumb.”

“Eliza, that’s not nice,” I scolded her, shaking my head. I had a feeling we were going to end up with *that* kid, you know? We started working on basic pre-school stuff with her before she was a year old. By two, she knew her ABCS, could count to 10, and knew her colors and shapes. She’s just a little bit ahead of her peers. If I’m honest, she’s leaps and bounds ahead of them, actually. “I don’t want to hear you say that again, got me?”

“Okay, daddy.” She put her head down on the desk, bottom lip in a full pout and sniffled. She’s good at the crocodile tears in these situations, but I tried to ignore her. The kid hates to be yelled at, but it’s necessary from time to time.

I nodded, relieved when Hank pulled into the station. I told Gary we were leaving, and he offered to install the car seat for me, which I was grateful for. I love being pregnant, but between my slender build and my larger-than-average stomach, some tasks have become difficult. A few minutes later we were off, heading into Missouri Valley so Eliza can at least have some time at school today. Hank had the heat on, yet another thing to be grateful of, and I tried to relax as he drove.

“What happened?” he asked, merging onto the interstate.

I sighed, flipping my phone in my hands; I still had to call LuAnn and Jacoby. Jacoby was not going to take this news well. “I hit a damn deer. I was coming down the county road, heading for the interstate, when the damn thing jumped out of the ditch. I didn’t think it was that big, considering I had the bars on the front of the truck. But the truck is all dented and scratched and it won’t start. I’m going to call LuAnn once we get back home and see if insurance will cover it.”

I felt Hank’s hand on my arm as he took the exit for Mo. Valley and headed for the pre-school. We’d no doubt talk about this more on the way home, as he knew what was going on. I suppose you’re all wondering, but I’ll tell you that in good time. For now, understand that there are problems and all will be clear as we go on here.

“Okay, Miss Eliza,” I said, as we arrived at the preschool. I got out and then helped her down, making sure she had her backpack. It’s mostly filled with a couple changes of clothes just in case, but she still needs it. “Let’s get going; you’re already late.”

It was only nine, but she’s usually here by 830. I hurried her inside, handing her pack off to Miss Laura, her teacher. The kids were sitting down for morning snack and Eliza hurried to her friends. I had to laugh, as she’s usually in tears by now. I called goodbye to her and apologized to her teacher for being late.

“Not your fault. We’ll see you at 3.”

I hurried from the building and then hoisted myself into the truck, hoping to get home before my bladder decided to burst. The kid was sitting right on it and I rubbed my stomach to encourage movement. With a sigh of defeat, I buckled up as Hank headed out of town and for home.

***

Once home, I settled into my office, back to looking for jobs. I know you’re all wondering what happened, and I can honestly say so am I. I am doing fine, my mental status is stable, but I got called into Sean’s office one day. Apparently, hours were getting cut and management was going first. Everyone was getting their hours cut and not in a small way, either. I went from 40 hours a week as flight nurse manager down to 25-30, which is a huge cut, even with my salary. Therefore, Jacoby thinks I should work two jobs to make up the difference. I told him he was nuts, because the extra days off allow me to spend more time with Eliza and my checks are still enough to help us pay the bills.

We had a fight or five about that and I finally told him I’d get that fucking job if he wanted me to so badly. Therefore, I’m cruising the web, looking for something that won’t keep me away from my daughter for too long each week. Each time I look, though, there’s nothing easy or simple. The places that are easy and simple won’t take me, because of my medical degrees; I don’t want another nursing job.

With a sigh, I decided to give up. Jacoby can just stew about the job thing. Besides, I’m having a baby in another three months and no one is going to hire me just to see me take leave. Maybe after I have the baby I can think about a second job. Frankly, my current job is getting a bit more challenging every day. I’m grounded for right now, because it’s too much of a risk to take me up in the chopper. Thus, I’m stuck helping out in the ER, since Sean won’t let me go on any ambulance runs, either.

In short, my life totally sucks right now. I’ve even offered to be a nurse on other floors, but I’m not trained for those floors, so no one wants me right now. Mostly, I spend my hours every week either in the ER helping with patients or in my office doing the schedule. It’s not fun, but I guess it’s the price I pay for carrying our child. If this is the outcome, I don’t know if I want to do this again or not. I know the end result is worth it, but still.

“Jimmy?”

I was confused; Hank wasn’t due to babysit since it was my day off and I didn’t have any appointments to be at. I stood up, which was a little difficult and met him in the hallway. He was smiling, but I was confused, as the baby settled onto my lungs. Have I mentioned that my asthma is also kicking my ass during this pregnancy? January can’t get here fast enough, as far as I’m concerned.

“What’s up?” I asked, as we returned to my office. I settled into my desk chair, adjusting the pillow behind my back. I can’t sit all the way back anymore because it makes my back hurt.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked, and I furrowed my brow, causing him to smile. “The baby must’ve eaten your brain again. You’re to meet Jacoby at work at 1045 so he can go to your appointment with you.”

“What?” I asked, turning to my day planner. I looked over the appointments scheduled for this week and my eyes widened. “Shit.”

“We’ve got time,” Hank assured me, as I started to stand. He offered some assistance, and we got me on my feet. “Take your time getting ready; I’m a little early.”

I was glad for that, at least. I made my way back to the kitchen, glad for slip on shoes (with my slender build, bending is difficult) and then told Hank I was ready. I pulled my coat on, distressed to find it a little tight. The budget for a new coat is nonexistent, and if I tell Jacoby that I’m outgrowing some of my maternity stuff already he’s going to flip. If this pregnancy isn’t the end of us…

“Let’s go,” Hank said, as we walked to his truck. He wears a smile almost every day now and I’m thankful. I know that Eleanor is watching over him and is glad he’s able to move forward. “Are you going to find out the sex of the baby?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head, as I buckled in. “We like the element of surprise. Eliza swears it’s a girl, but she just wants a sister. We don’t care what it is and we’re again picking names for both sexes.”

“Any name previews?” Hank asked, pulling out of our yard. The grass is still green, but some of the trees are losing their leaves. Our flower gardens are dying as well, and it’s a little depressing. The happy part is our pumpkin patch, which Eliza requested this year. “I remember the time you had naming Eliza.”

“So far, we’re down to Gavin Charles or Daniel Rupert for a boy and Grace Lynn or Bethany Marie for a girl.”

Hank moved onto the gravel, as I tried to get comfortable. It’s the pits when you can’t breathe just because your child is sitting on your lungs. I saw Hank’s worried look and smile at him to assure him I was fine.

“The baby is sitting on my lungs,” I explained and he nodded, clearly relieved. “Unfortunately, my asthma is far worse right now than it has been before. It should get better when the baby is born, but there are no guarantees. I guess some people have more problems after than others.”

“As long as everyone is healthy, that’s all that matters.”

I nodded, watching the changing scenery going by. The change of seasons in Iowa tends to happen quickly most years, and this year was no exception. The leaves were brilliantly bright, in shades of yellow and orange. The downside is that it gets colder and I’m not eager to drive on the gravel this winter, but it’s life in Iowa, you know? We just can’t up and leave, even with the current problems. I was glad we were having our second child and it was me carrying it, but I wondered if now was a good time. We were already having a hard time making ends meet, was adding a new baby wise?

“Penny for your thoughts?” Hank asked, merging into the interstate. I had been so lost in thought I hadn’t realized we were halfway there.

“Just wondering how wise it is to add this baby, that’s all. Things are tight, but we’ll make it work.”

Hank nodded, understanding. “Just remember, I’m here if you ever need anything. I can buy diapers, formula, whatever you need.”

“Thanks.”

He nodded, smiling, as we made our way to Omaha. I was excited about the baby, but at the same time, I was scared to death.

*takes a moment to absorb 3 year time jump*

Jimmy's pregnant? That's gonna make him a hormonal wreck, no wonder he's been fighting again!

I wasn't sure where to start this one when I wrote it, but thought age three was a nice starting point. I tend to base the little ones off my niece who is, you guess it, three! *laughs*

Things get interesting for these two...as the summary suggests. The hormones don't help Jimmy in the least! *shakes head* I swear these two just like to fight for the sake of fighting sometimes...

I'm really looking forward to this, can't wait for chapter two (not just cos it's a Coby chapter)

I really liked this story the best out of all three...and it will be interesting as we go along to see what you think. But I think this story really delved into their lives and showed us just how strong they could be.

1

“You going to find out the sex of the baby?” Sean asked, as we stood by the nurse’s station, waiting on a call. It had been deathly slow today, and I was bored. The only thing to look forward to was Jimmy coming in for his appointment, which I was able to attend.

“Nope. We want to be surprised again,” I said, yawning. I hadn’t slept well last night; we’d fought about money again and Jimmy slept in his office. I can sleep just fine without him, but the fight weighed heavily on me; if it wasn’t for coffee, I wouldn’t be able to stand. “It was fun not knowing if Eliza was a girl or boy.”

“What theme are you using for the nursery this time?”

I smiled, gesturing for Sean to follow me; we’ve got pagers if we’re needed. I opened my locker and withdrew the small, silver digital camera I’d stashed in there. Once it was on, I flipped through the hundreds of pictures of Eliza and finally landed on the new nursery, which we’d just finished the other day.

“This,” I said, thrusting the camera at him. He smiled, looking at the room in awe. “The walls are purple, silver trim, and a friend of Jimmy's is going to draw dragons in silver on the wall in front of the crib. The ceiling is going to have glow in the dark stars like Eliza’s. The crib, changing table, and dresser are all silver, and we’re painting those now. We got Eliza a convertible toddler bed, so that the new baby could have the crib. We didn’t want to buy all new furniture when the old stuff was perfectly fine.”

“It looks amazing,” he said, handing the camera back. I put it back in the beat up blue locker and snapped my lock, twirling the dial a bit to secure the lock. As we returned the desk, I realized that Jimmy would be coming in soon. “I hope the kid likes purple.”

I laughed, as the doors to the ED opened and Jimmy waddled in, smiling at me. Hank was with him and I was instantly worried. I hurried to his side, asking what had happened that he couldn’t drive himself. My hand was instantly on his stomach, glad when the baby was kicking and moving like normal. Outside of some wheezing, which has become normal for him this pregnancy, he didn’t seem to be in bad shape.

“What’s wrong? Why did Hank bring you? Are you okay?” Without realizing it, I was leading him right into an exam bay, my hand searching for a phone to call his doctor. Once I bumped into the bed, I realized where we were. “Let me call the doctor, okay?”

Jimmy sighed, snapping me out of my thoughts. He was looking at me with a very annoyed look, his eyes hard, his mouth set in a thin line. I could almost speak in tandem his next words:

“You’re doing it again. You’re treating me like glass. If you’ll give me a second, I’ll explain why Hank drove me. I’ll explain while we walk to my appointment, for which I am now almost late.”

I nodded, calling to Sean that we were heading over. He said to bring an ultrasound back and I said we would if we had one to bring.

“I hit a deer taking Eliza to school this morning. The truck is in the shop, LuAnn has started a claim, and we’re both fine. Hank came and got us and made sure Eliza got to school and I got here. Everything is fine and you can stop worrying now.”

I nodded, feeling a little silly. I don’t know why I’m treating him like he’s going to break, I guess I just want everything to go well. If something happened to the baby because we didn’t take a certain precaution or something, I’d never forgive myself. So far, six months in, the baby is healthy and Jimmy is mostly fine. His asthma is kicking his ass, but otherwise, he’s doing fine.

“Jimmy for 1130,” he said and I realized we’d arrived at the doctor’s office. I shook myself in an attempt to focus on the task at hand here. “I’m seeing Dr. Peterson.”

“Have a seat,” the receptionist said, smiling. Thankfully, most OB clinics in the larger cities were friendly toward male pregnancies. I’ve heard that some small town clinics are downright mean to their male patients. “The doctor is running a few minutes behind.”

Jimmy nodded, sitting with Hank and me, idly flipping through a magazine. He looked so calm, but I was uptight. I had no idea why I couldn’t be calm at these things; I was for Michelle! Instead, I fidgeted in my seat, only stopping when I felt a familiar calloused hand on my shoulder. I looked into Hank’s green eyes and waited for him to speak.

“Calm down. Jimmy is fine, okay? I saw the truck, and it’s not as bad as it sounds. True, it won’t start, but that could be unrelated to hitting the deer. If something were wrong, we’d know by now. Chill.”

Yes, Hank age 75, just said chill. I stifled a laugh and took a deep breath, looking around the lobby. It’s not like I’ve never been here before, but they’ve made a few changes over the last three years. The walls were a light grey-white and now they’re a light yellow. The generic dollar store paintings are gone and replaced with informational posters about various male and female problems. There are some staff pictures and a baby wall. I spotted Eliza’s picture, taken the day she came home from the hospital and smiled. She’s really growing into an amazing young lady and her personality has really started to shine of late.

“Jimmy?”

We all stood and followed the nurse to the back, where Jimmy was weighed and then into an exam room. This room was pea soup green and I inwardly blanched. Why do we always get stuck with the ugliest rooms on the planet at every visit? I watched as the nurse conducted the first part of the visit by getting Jimmy's vitals and measuring his stomach. As long as she didn’t frown, I could be the picture of calm, even if Hank is giving me the ‘calm down, he’s fine’ look.

“Any problems?” she asked, her fingers poised over the keyboard of the office computer.

“Not really, outside of my asthma problems. I’ve been having horrible heart burn of late, but the baby is moving so I’m happy. I did hit a deer today but I feel fine from that. My only problem is a jumpy husband,” he reported, smiling at me as he squeezed my hand.

“That happens. We see a lot of jumpy dads, no matter how many times they’ve done this. As long as you don’t feel the urge to hit him, you’re doing just fine. I had a couple in today and the husband had a black eye from getting on the mother’s nerves.”

We all had a chuckle at that one, and I was glad Jimmy hadn’t slugged me yet. I know I’m getting on his nerves sometimes, but we work it out. A lot of it is stress and there’s little we can do about that, sadly.

“All right, the doctor should be in shortly,” the nurse said, standing. She logged out of the computer, then closed the door behind her.

I looked over at Jimmy, placing a hand on his stomach. The baby kicked and squirmed and I grinned. I loved being a daddy, and having two, while challenging, was going to be just as much fun.

“I wish they’d tell me my vitals,” Jimmy grumbled, squirming in his chair a bit. His back has been killing him of late and I was using pain cream on it every night before bed. “My blood pressure was a little high last time and I want to make sure it’s come down.”

“If it was high, I’m sure the nurse would’ve said,” I soothed him, hoping I was being a comfort. He nodded, as the door opened and the smiling, tall, red-haired doctor entered the room. She took a seat at the desk and then turned to Jimmy.

“How are you feeling?”

“Not bad. My lungs are still cranky, but I’m managing that. Overall, though, I feel good.”

The doctor nodded, looking over the notes from the nurse, then had Jimmy sit up on the exam bed. I watched as she palpated Jimmy's stomach, then got out the ultrasound machine. I was excited, as Jimmy so far had only required the normal amount of ultrasounds, and I was always fascinated with them. The doctor squirted the gel onto his stomach and I laughed a bit as the cold temperature hit him. Finally, the screen came to life and then we saw the baby.

“Now, before we get going too much here, do we want to know the sex?”

“No,” we chorused and the doctor nodded, apparently choosing the pictures carefully. She frowned, then, and my nerves went immediately on edge. Frowns were bad and things never turned out well.

“Hm.”

Even Jimmy was looking worried now. I felt Hank’s calloused hand on my arm as I took a deep, shuddering breath. There must be something wrong with the baby. I watched the screen, extra concerned when the doctor turned it away from us. Hank and I went to Jimmy's side, and I tried to comfort him as tears slid down his face. His hands were shaking as we waited for the doctor to speak.

“Well,” she started, turning the screen back to us. She still looked concerned and I felt my heart pounding in my chest. “I turned it for a couple of reasons. One being that the baby decided to show us the gender and I didn’t want to spoil that for you. Another is that I saw something unusual on the screen. I’m going to turn on the speaker so you can hear the heart beat and then I’ll explain what’s going on.”

I nodded, as Jimmy wiped his face. Once the doctor saw how upset he was, she smiled, taking his hand for a moment.

“It’s okay, Jimmy. I apologize for my behavior and worrying you both. Now that I know what’s going on, I can assure you nothing is wrong. Are you ready to hear the heartbeat?”

We nodded, as Jimmy took a calming breath, apologizing for the display of emotion. Dr. Peterson told him not to worry, as she moved the wand around and we finally heard the heartbeat. But as paramedics, we knew right away that it wasn’t right: it was a little irregular and I frowned. She’d said nothing was wrong, but that wasn’t right.

“Now, no doubt your sensitive ears have picked up the irregular heartbeat,” she said, and we both nodded, as Hank looked confused. “As paramedics, no doubt you’re worried. However, the second reason I moved the monitor is because I wanted to check the heart. There’s no problem with the heart, it’s the fact that there are two babies in there.”

I looked at the doctor as though she had two heads. Did she just say two babies? I looked at Jimmy, whose eyes were the size of dinner plates.

“Twins?” he squeaked out and the doctor nodded, pointing out the second baby. Jimmy went pale on me and I started to fan him, glad he was lying down. “Twins? Two?”

“Yes,” the doctor said with a slight laugh. She pointed to the screen, indicating that not only were there two babies in there, but they shared an amniotic sac as well, meaning they were identical. “Looks like you will be having identical twins, gentlemen.”

I was in shock, as I stood there, gripping Jimmy's hand and looking at the screen. The doctor marked a few features for us, such as the heads and hands. Both babies were making fists right now and she marked that as well. She also helpfully labeled the babies A and B. Finally, she printed off pictures, as Jimmy sat up, wiping the gel from his bulging stomach. We’d both thought he was a little big for six months, but figured it was just his first pregnancy. Now, we know we were right.

“Now, this does change your due date,” the doctor said, handing Jimmy literature on carrying twins and having a multiple pregnancy. “Twins are typically born a week or two ahead of a singleton pregnancy. So, rather than delivering around the 5th of January, I’ll probably see you in for delivery around the 18th or so of December.”

“Holy shit. We need to fix the nursery, then. We’re only prepped for one baby!” Jimmy exclaimed, pulling his shirt down. Dr. Peterson patted his shoulder, smiling.

“The babies can share a crib for the first few months. If you’re using a bassinet, it might be easier to have two, as they are quite small. You really only need one changing table and they can share a dresser. So don’t panic, read what I gave you first and go from there, okay?”

Jimmy nodded, as we thanked the doctor. I held the printouts, still amazed at the news we’d received today. Jimmy's next appointment was made for two weeks, just to be on the safe side, and then we returned downstairs. Sean was waiting and soon, my co-workers were crowded around us, eagerly awaiting their view of the baby.

“Well, we have some news,” I said, still in shock. I passed around the pictures, watching as faces lit up with shock and excitement. “We’re having twins!”

OMFG!!!!! *spazzles*

TWINS?!?!?!?!?!?!

Sweet lord of the rings I was not expecting that!

You're going to hate me tomorrow! *laughs* Kirst tells me I'm killing you, lol!

Yes, twins ...

Oh you both suck! Are you talking to her on msn? Why don't I have you on msn??

*laughs* I've got her on Skype, actually, lol!

grrr, fine!!

You should get on Skype!

I would if I had a webcam/mic that worked...

Drat! We should get you a mic that works =).

need a decent mouse as something of a priority, still using a freaking ball mouse for crying out loud...

Am I being punished for not having a mic/webcam now? *wonders sadly where her updates have gone*

=) Nay, knave, you can blame me for forgetting! *facepalm* I have been in a foul temper the last couple of days, and forgot to post. I will remedy that with two chapters today to get us back on track!

***

2

I haven’t quite wrapped my head around the idea of twins. Two babies are growing inside of me and we got pregnant without help! Twins don’t run on either side of the family, either, so I’m horribly confused. Naturally, this has also created a small problem: the house is suddenly too small for our family. We can make this work since the twins won’t need separate rooms for a while, but still. I never dreamed I’d be able to have one child let alone two!

I wandered up to the nursery after Hank dropped me back home. I had time before I had to anywhere, as Eliza would be getting out of school around two. I’d also gotten the time frame on my truck, and was told it would be ready in a few days. Thankfully, Insurance had approved the bodywork and would be sending a check to cover the cost. In the mean time, Gary was getting a new alternator put in for me; he’s trying to determine if it’s related to the collision with the deer and if it is, insurance will pay for that as well.

It occurs to me now that our trucks are getting a little small for our family size. I think we’ll be able to get all three children in the back seat, but will they be comfortable? Eliza sits in the middle right now and her feet are propped on the mouser most of the time, since she takes after me. I have been pondering trading in for an SUV, which we can still get in four-wheel drive, but I know that Jacoby is going to pitch a fit about the cost. We’ve only had these trucks a couple of years and we bought them brand new, so we’d be more than upside down on our loans.

I had to smile, though, as I thought of the changes coming to the nursery. I had the literature to read, though we had decided to get a second changing table; you just never know if you’re going to have to change two diapers at once. I wonder if we’re having boys or girls, too. The doctor said they’re sharing an amniotic sac, so that makes them identical. I took a second look at the room, wondering how we were going to fit a second crib in here. They can share a crib for the first few months, but eventually, they’ll be too big to share. I tried to picture two toddler beds and realized Jacoby might have to move his office to the basement. My office occupied the only bedroom on the main floor, and with all the stuff I have, I couldn’t see moving it into a smaller room.

“So many things to consider,” I said, as Ma and Pa came upstairs. Hamlet and Ophelia were right behind them, and I watched as Ophelia pounced on Pa. The once-small kittens were now bigger than their older counter parts, who were mellowing out a bit. Ma and Pa didn’t want to wrestle quite as much these days, but would oblige the younger cats once in a while. “Are you guys ready for twins?”

The wrestling match carried on, so I assumed they didn’t care. After all, they’d adjusted well to having Eliza around as an infant, so I suspected two more would not ruin their day much.

***

“I still can’t believe we’re having twins!” I exclaimed, working on my fourth piece of pizza later that night. I’m hungry tonight, hungrier than usual. Jacoby thinks once the shock has worn off, my appetite will return to what it’s been before now. “We’re getting the extra crib and changing table, right?”

“Yes. I’ve been looking for matching ones, and all I can find is something similar that we can paint,” he said, pushing his empty plate away. He’d barely had two slices and I shook my head. “I figure we can paint the new stuff purple, so it coordinates with the silver stuff.”

I nodded, swallowing my last bite. I pushed my plate away as well and wiped my face. “Sounds good. Where are we going to *put* a second crib and changing table?”

My husband looked thoughtful, tapping a finger against his chin as I helped Eliza with her pizza. I made sure to cut the pieces just a bit smaller, so she wouldn’t choke. I watched to make sure she was going to eat, then waited for Jacoby’s answer.

“Well…we’re just going to have to stand there and ponder,” he decided, causing me to laugh. Eliza joined in, pushing her plate away and announcing that she was done. “Let’s get a rag and clean you, kiddo.”

I took our plates, scraping hers into the trash. Her appetite is finicky these days, compared to what it used to be. If she finishes half of her small plate, we’re happy. Tonight, it looked as though she’d eaten half of her slice of pizza, which wasn’t great but was on par for how she’d been eating of late. Mom keeps assuring me she’ll outgrow this phase, but I’m not convinced.

“Do you want fruit, Liza?” I asked, and she nodded, requesting an apple. I opened the fridge, not sure we even had any apples. It was nearing grocery shopping time, but we had to wait to get paid first. “We’re out of apples, honey. We’ve got grapefruit or grapes.”

“I want an apple!” she exclaimed and I sighed; sometimes, she still acts like a two year old.

“We don’t have any,” I told her, looking over at her. Her blue eyes were unhappy, and her little blonde head was shaking back and forth. Jacoby returned with the rag and started to clean her, much to her protest. “So, grapefruit, grapes, or nothing.”

She looked petulantly at me, sticking her lower lip out. Thanks to the pregnancy hormones, that lip sometimes got to me, but I resisted tonight. She knew her choices and if she didn’t choose soon, I’d do it for her. Jacoby repeated her choices, reminding her that I would be making the choice if he got to three. The tears cascaded down her cheeks as she asked for grapes, likely because she knew she wouldn’t get anything if I picked.

“I think someone is tired.”

I wish Jacoby hadn’t said that. As I sat down with a bowl of grapes and the cutting board, Eliza burst into tears, screaming that she wasn’t tired. I shook my head, trying to comfort her with the grapes, but she was in a mood now. The few pieces of grapes I’d set in front of her went flying to the floor, and she placed her hands on the table. I started to yell at her, as she pushed as hard as she could, trying to get her chair back. I knew what was going to happen and yelled at her to put four on the floor, but she didn’t listen and pushed harder.

“Catch her!” I shouted, standing as fast as I could.

Her chair tipped back and Jacoby just barley caught her before she tumbled head over heels from the booster seat. I don’t know why she hadn’t been strapped in, but she could’ve been serious hurt. I hurried to them both, as he comforted our daughter, who was crying and screaming, clearly startled by her fall. I felt a twinge in my abdomen, but ignored it, just wanting to make sure Eliza was okay.

“Jesus, Liza!” I shouted, flailing my arms at her. I try to keep my temper in check around her, but this is the last straw. I’ve hollered at her so many times and she never listens! “How many times do I need to tell you not to push your chair back from the table like that?!”

She cried harder, as Jacoby rocked her back and forth, trying to comfort her. As her body shook with sobs, as I took a deep breath, trying to calm down myself; it’s no good getting this upset with her. Jacoby finally stood, and we all went into the living room. The babies were moving as fast as they could, and I rubbed my stomach to calm them down.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” Eliza whimpered, crawling onto my lap. I hugged her as best I could, rubbing her back.

“I know, baby, and so is daddy. I was just scared because you could’ve gotten hurt, that’s all. Do you want your grapes or a bath?”

She sniffled a bit, her little fists wiping her eyes as she yawned. Even though it was early, that decided things for us. Jacoby carried her upstairs, removing her clothing as they went. We usually have a little game we play before bath time, but I think she was too tired tonight. Instead of taking turns stripping her off, Jacoby just removed what he could on the walk to the tub. While he drew a bath, I got her some pajamas and made sure her bed was ready, turned on her nightlight and sprayed some lavender calming spray around.

“Hey Jim, she’s ready,” Jacoby said, and I turned to see a sleeping Eliza, fresh from a quick bath in his arms. “She feels warm.”

I helped get her dressed, then grabbed the temporal thermometer. She would need to wait about 10 minutes after her bath before we could take her temp, so we left her uncovered, only in her purple kitty pajamas.

“Teeth?” I asked, but Jacoby shook his head. He was right, she’d have her teeth for the most part by now. “I hope she’s not getting sick.”

He nodded, as we watched 10 minutes crawl by. Finally, though, I was able to draw the probe over her warm forehead, frowning at the reading.

“103,” I said, with a sigh. I went for the children’s Tylenol and he grabbed a cool rag for her head. “Poor kid, that’s the second time this fall she’s been sick!”

I woke her up enough to get the medicine down her, and Jacoby put the cloth over her forehead. I offered to sit with her, and Jacoby agreed, turning the lights out and heading out the door. I rocked myself quietly, watching her sleep; I hate when my kid is sick and there’s nothing I can do about it. It goes with the territory of being a parent but it still sucks. With a sigh, I closed my eyes, allowing the gentle rocking motion to calm me down. We were nervous the first time she got sick as an infant, and while we’ve learned to remember our training, it’s still our child and she’s still sick. I reached over and felt the cloth; it was warm and I removed it, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. It’s only a fever and we know what to do if it gets worse. She’s been to the ER before when we panicked and we can always go again. I adjusted a bit in the chair, feeling the twins kick, and my back start to ache. The twinge from earlier is gone, thankfully, and I started to relax.

***
“Daddy? I throwed up.”

I blinked, my eyes unaccustomed to the dark. I quickly realized I was in Eliza’s room and I yawned, reaching for her bedside lamp. Sure enough, her blanket was soiled. I started to stand, crying out at the pain that shot up my spine. I sat back down, a hand on my lower back, as Eliza gave me a wary look. The bedroom door opened with a bang and Jacoby ran in, the overhead light coming on with blinding speed.

“What’s going on?” he asked, surveying the room. His eyes settled on the bed, then me, and he started to laugh. “Jimmy, it’s just puke. You, of all people, can handle that.”

“It’s not that,” I whispered, my back still in agony. I was massaging it now, trying to get the pain to subside. It didn’t help that my abdomen was starting to hurt as well, and I was almost certain I was having contractions. His face reflected confusion until he registered how much pain I was having. Eliza was crying, I was crying (let’s be honest here: I’m in a LOT of pain), and Jacoby didn’t know where to start first. “Get the bed clean first.”

He nodded, taking the soiled blankets out of the room, as I sat there, willing the pain to go stop. I have no idea what’s going on, but my back is literally killing me here. Jacoby returned 10 minutes later with clean blankets and told me that the soiled sheets were in the wash. Once the bed was re-made, he turned his attention to me, as I heard the back door open, followed by Hank’s familiar footsteps on the stairs.

“I’m here, you guys get going,” he said, and I was confused: how had he known to come? He came over and with Jacoby got me on my feet. I wanted to cry out, but bit my lip instead, walking hunched over. “Call me with what you find out.”

It was then I realized what was happening: Jacoby was hauling my ass to the Mo. Valley ER. I didn’t protest, because I could barely walk. Eliza was already asleep, as we all left her room, my husband and neighbor helping me walk down the stairs. As we neared the bottom, I started to feel lightheaded and told them to give me a moment. That twinge in my abdomen inteisified and then I felt a gush, as I finally gave up and passed out.

3

I paced outside the OB operating room nervously, watching the red carpet patterned with stripes go by. All I know is that Jimmy collapsed at home and now he’s having a c-section. He’s 12 weeks early, but no one can tell me what’s going on. They won’t let me in there, either, and it’s pissing me off. I looked through the small square windows again, distressed at the amount of blood I saw on the floor. I knew things were going badly, but I still wanted answers. There were two incubators set up along the wall and two NICU teams were working frantically on my children. I’d called the ambulance when he collapsed, and we made it to Mo. Valley in record time. The OB on call there took one look at Jim and called Creighton; minutes later, he was airlifted. Because Hank had to stay with Eliza, I’d called Tony and he was able to give me a ride to Creighton, which gave me a chance to call family. My mom was on her way and so were Jimmy’s parents, but it would be several hours before they got here.

“Jacoby?” a voice called and I looked up from my pacing. Hollister was coming into the lobby and I ran into her arms. I hadn’t called anyone but Tony and Sean, but word obviously spread fast. Tony was downstairs getting coffee for us. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” I sobbed. I couldn’t hold it in any longer and she held me tight, rubbing my back. Things had been going so well, so what could possibly be wrong? “They won’t tell me anything and they won’t let me in there. He was sitting with Eliza, because she got sick tonight. He said his back hurt, so Hank came over, you know? We walked Jimmy downstairs and he collapsed. He got airlifted from Mo. Valley, Hollister. It’s bad.”

She shushed me, rubbing my back, as I cried. I don’t usually cry, but this is my husband we’re talking about here. If he or my children die, I won’t survive, I just won’t. I felt more people joining the hug and looked up to see Sean and Anthony, followed soon by Racheal and Mark. It seemed my entire Iowa family was here and I was grateful. They were coming into work in their off hours and some probably had to work tomorrow. I don’t even know who called them, but I’m grateful to that person. When we parted, Tony handed me a coffee, though I didn’t think I could keep anything down.

“Have you gotten any news?” Sean asked quietly and I shook my head, wiping my eyes. I just gestured to the OR and he nodded. “I’ll see what I can find out, okay?”

“I appreciate it,” I said, taking a deep breath. I went back to look in the window and didn’t like the increased activity around the surgical bed. “There’s so much blood.”

Anthony gently pulled me into the waiting room, where Annie immediately took me into a hug. She rubbed my back as renewed tears rolled down my face. I was so thankful for my Iowa family and I wouldn’t know what to do without them. She’d just gotten we to sit down when I saw Sean came back in, looking grim.

“No.” I didn’t want to believe it. Jimmy had to be alive and so did the twins. I couldn’t lose my entire family in one night.

He took my hands and looked me right in the eye. I’ve seen him do this with families before; right before he tells them their loved one is dead. I think I started to hyperventilate. “They’re working on Jimmy right now. He started bleeding and they’re taking all of the female components. It’s still touch and go, though, okay? He’s coded once on them, but they’re doing everything they can to save him.”

I nodded, trying to control my breathing. I was relieved, yet still worried. We could handle some bleeding, as long as he was alive. I wanted to hear about my children, as I saw a nurse coming toward me, still half dressed for surgery. Sean sighed and I prepared myself for the worst.

As the nurse approached, Sean finished filling me in. “They’re working on the girls. But it’s not looking good for Baby B. Baby A is a little bigger, but both will be headed to the NICU soon.”

“Are you with Mr. Shaddix?” the nurse asked, and I nodded, as she pulled up a chair. I understood the look on her face: I’m glad you have family to support you, because I have bad news. I had used the same face from time to time myself on the rare occasion I had to deliver bad news. “Jimmy is stabilizing, but he’s going to ICU after surgery. He lost a lot of blood, and he’s going to be receiving at least two transfusions while he’s in ICU. He’s also going to be kept sedated for a day or two, and the doctor feels it’s safer if he’s monitored more closely.”

“Okay.” I had gone numb at this point.

She took a deep breath and I think I knew what was coming next, but I had to hear it.

“You had identical twin daughters.” Had. Past tense. “Baby A was 2 pounds 3 ounces and is stable for now. She’s on a ventilator and will be in the NICU for several weeks. Once a full assessment has been done, the neonatologist will visit with you about treatment.”

I nodded, wishing she’d get the bad news out.

“Baby B was 1 pound 2 ounces. She is currently on the ventilator and the team is having a hard time getting her stabilized. However, her chances for recovery are very slim. If you have a pastor or other person who you would like to consult, we can make a phone call for you.”

I nodded, taking a deep breath. “I, uhm, we, we don’t really have a church. Uhm…can you call my neighbor? He’s babysitting our oldest and I want him to know what’s going on.”

“Of course. What’s the number?”

I was grateful for Sean, who knew Hank’s number by heart. I couldn’t think straight, let alone give out phone numbers. The nurse stood and moved off while I disintegrated into tears on the couch. My entire ER crew, those both of us were close to, were there for us, and more were arriving the longer we sat there. Soon enough, everyone who worked day shift with either Jimmy or me was there, supporting us. Edgar arrived, though his wife was with the kids. Eliza was headed to Edgar’s house, so Hank could be here. I felt like I was in a fog, to be honest. There were so many people here, but all I wanted was my husband and my baby girls.

When the girls were ready for me to see them, Hollister went with me to the NICU.I hoped that Baby B would hang on long enough for Jimmy to say goodbye; I don’t want her to linger longer than she has to, but he deserves that chance. We knew there was risk involved in this pregnancy, but we decided to take that risk anyway. I wonder now if we were selfish; should we have just contacted Michelle again to be our surrogate? The nurses showed us to a dimly lit area of the NICU, right up front. Pink blankets were draped over the cribs, and I barely saw my girls for all the tubes and wires attached to them. The nurse spoke about what was going on, but I tuned her out, knowing that Hollister would listen for me. If anything was important, she’d nudge me out of my thoughts.

“Priscilla June,” I mumbled, looking at Baby A. For all the arguing Jimmy had done naming Eliza, naming the twins was somehow easier. I said Priscilla June for a girl and he agreed right away. My second girl name he hadn’t liked, but his was good: Penelope Marcella. I looked at Baby A, Priscilla June, and I started to cry. The nurse indicated I could lightly touch her and I did; her skin was soft, with no blemishes. She moved a little at my touch, so I withdrew my hand, not wishing to cause undue stress on her. I turned to the other incubator and I knew Penelope Marcella would not make it. “Penelope Marcella. Daddy loves you so much and so does your daddy Jimmy. Please hang on so he can see you, okay?”

There was no movement, and I could see how labored her breathing was, even with the ventilator. Her little stomach caved in with every breath and I wanted to hold her until the end. I reached in and touched her lightly, amazed at how soft her skin was; she was perfect. I heard my name a few minutes later, and looked outside. Jimmy's gurney was parked outside the NICU, an annoyed looking surgical team surrounding it. He was half awake, but I knew he’d insisted on seeing his girls. The surgical team got him right up to the window and he had a clear view of both girls.

“Did you name them?” he whispered, clearly in pain. I nodded, taking his hand. He looked so pale and I wondered if he would make it through the night. “They told me about Baby B.”

“I named her Penelope Marcella, like we discussed,” I said, and he nodded, taking a deep, ragged breath. He needed to get to ICU, but he was stubborn. He would see his girls at any cost. “Can you see her?”

He nodded, as an alarm sounded in the nursery. I think we both knew what was going on but we waited anyway. A shade was drawn over Penelope’s window and we waited. Hollister moved out, and I knew without her telling me what had happened. My Penelope was gone, forever. I gripped Jimmy's hand tighter, not bothering to hold my emotions in.

“I want to hold her,” Jimmy said, his hand weakly waving off the concerns of the surgical team. “She’s my baby, and I want to hold her.”

I moved to get my daughter, but the nurse brought her out, wrapped in a little green blanket, expressing her sympathies to us. Jimmy cradled the tiny infant in his arms, and I let him have his moment with her. When he kissed her forehead and more or less passed out, I took her back, kissed my husband and told the team to move him. I looked down at Penelope Marcella Shaddix and wondered what she might’ve grown into. I knew that being this early and that small, she was in line for many problems, but I still wish she’d have made it. So many advances have been made in saving the tiniest babies, but sometimes, they just aren’t strong enough to hold on.

“She’s beautiful.”

Sean was standing next to Hollister and I asked him if he had a camera. He nodded, and pulled his small camera from his back pocket. He took some pictures of Penelope for me, as I saw another person come on the unit with a professional camera. I thought it rather rude of this person to intrude like this, but decided to bite my tongue and let her explain.

“Hell, Mr. Shaddix. I’m Nicole,” she said, and I nodded, already familiar with the look of sympathy in her eyes. “My job is to take photos of babies for parents when those babies are born. I also offer photographs of babies who have passed away. I do it out of total respect for the child and parents, but it offers a lasting memento for the family.”

I nodded, thankful I hadn’t said the rude things on my mind at first. Nicole was very respectful as she snapped a few photos of Penelope for me, promising to have them ready in a few days. There was no charge for the service and when we were ready, she’d be happy to photograph Priscilla as well. I thanked her, as I continued to hold Penelope. I knew that soon, she’d have to leave me, but I wanted more time with her.

“Sir?” a voice said, about an hour later. I had been given a chair and I gently rocked my daughter in my arms, singing to her as I’d sung to Eliza so many times. We were alone, though I saw Sean moving toward me, Hollister behind him, as reality came crashing around me once again.

I looked up at the nurse and I knew it was time. I handed my daughter over, glad for the support of friends. We’d have her cremated and have a service for her at a later date.

“Uhm, can you call Hennessey-Aman funeral home in Missouri Valley? We’d like her cremated.”

“Of course,” the nurse said, then walked away with my daughter. If it hadn’t been for Sean and Hollister, I’d have collapsed on the floor.

***

Twelve agonizing hours later, I was calmer. We’d arrived at the hospital at four in the morning, Penelope had passed away at five in the morning, and our families had arrived, finally, at two in the afternoon. I hadn’t left the hospital, only moving back and forth between Jimmy and Priscilla. Eliza was with Edgar’s children at a local daycare so that his wife could be with us as well. I appreciated the support, and understood when my co-workers filtered in and out, some working, others with their families. I would always be grateful to those that came in the middle of the night. They were just co-workers some, and others friends, but they’d come to support me when my family couldn’t.

“Jacoby?”

I looked up at Dr. Peterson, who gestured for me to follow her. Jimmy was still sedated, though he’d been allowed to wake up long enough to help with Penelope’s arrangements. The pain, emotional, and physical, was too much, though, and he was sedated immediately after. She was in good hands, and would be cremated this afternoon; we could pick up her ashes in a couple of days.

“Jimmy's vitals are stable right now, and he’s responding to the pain medication.”

I nodded, as we entered his room. He was still sleeping, and I looked at the monitor above his head; his numbers were good. The doctor and I sat down, and I knew this was her way of involving Jimmy in his care.

“What happened is that the placenta abrupted, or pulled away from the uterus. This caused bleeding and is what ultimately set things in motion leading up to the birth. The back pain appears to have been pregnancy related, as many men and women have severe back pain toward the end of the pregnancy. It’s possible the babies were just sitting on a nerve or something. But the pain ended up essentially working in his favor, because it alerted him to the problem,” she said, watching him sleep. He was on his second blood transfusion and he might need a third. “Unfortunately, he will be unable to bear children after this. I tried to save everything, but there was too much damage. After looking things over in the lab after surgery, I’m surprised he carried the pregnancy this far. The fallopian tubes and ovaries were malformed, and the uterus wasn’t in great shape, either. He should’ve been infertile, but he got a miracle chance at pregnancy.”

I nodded. “He was so excited when he found out he was pregnant. We’d been trying for two years, once Eliza turned one. Each negative test was a blow to him, but he did his best. Hearing it was twins was the best news ever.”

“I heard about Penelope. I’m very sorry, Jacoby,” she told me, taking my hand. I never understood why people apologized for a death, but I appreciated the sentiment. “I’m going to go check on Priscilla before I go off shift. Please don’t hesitate to call if you need me, okay?”

“Thank you for everything.” I seemed to be saying that a lot in the last few hours.

She nodded, then left the room. Jimmy's mom came to sit with me and I welcomed her embrace. I knew it was hard for her to see her son like this, no matter how I felt. He was my husband and I wasn’t going to leave his side. The doctor says he’s in the clear, but I’m not convinced yet. I’ve already lost a daughter; I don’t want to lose my husband.

*sobs*

Poor Jimmy and Jacoby. That had me so choked up, after everything they have gone through it just seems so unfair!

I know how you feel! I damn near cried writing it and re-reading it, it still got to me. Things were finally more or less going well for them and now this? That was hard to write, to be honest. I actually abandoned that idea the first time and tried to write something different, but that was all that came to me, so I went with it. But I wasn't happy about it.

4

The memory of saying goodbye to my daughter will haunt me forever. Even though I was still mostly under anesthesia and certainly under the influence of morphine, I remember holding Penelope Marcella after she passed away. It has been three days and I’m now holding an urn, filled with her ashes, as I sit up in a bed in ICU. I can’t put the purple and silver angel down, as much as it pains me to hold it. There’s a saying that no parent should have to bury their children; I’m feeling that very strongly now. I know that Eleanor will take good care of her, but it’s not the same as having her here with us. I keep gazing at the picture of her on the front; someone was kind enough to capture her few moments on earth for us.

“How’s your pain?” mom asked, as I shifted a bit in bed. I want to go home, but the doctor said not for a few more days. I lost a lot of blood and she wants me to be 100% stable before I leave. Right now, they can’t keep my blood pressure up without medication, so I’m stuck in the hospital.

“Physically it’s about a 2 or 3. The epidural helps that. But emotionally, it’s off the charts.”

While I kept hold of Penelope in one hand, I hugged mom with the other, letting my emotions spill forth once again. It’s been a day of crying since the sedative was lifted, and I knew there would be many more days following it. You can’t lose a child and not be emotional about it. I kept reading the little silver plaque on the front, wishing I would wake up from this nightmare.

Penelope Marcella Shaddix
October 14th, 2013 0430-October 14th, 2013 0500

“Jimmy, the doctor is here to see you,” my nurse said and I nodded, wiping my face. Dr. Peterson came in, her eyes immediately going to the small urn in my hand.

“It’s a beautiful tribute,” the doctor said, gesturing to the urn. I let it go for a moment so she could look at it and held it tight when she returned it. “You’re healing very well. I think we’re going to move you to a regular surgical unit in a couple more days. Your blood pressure was stable over night without medication and I’ll have the nurses do orthostatic bps on you again today, okay? You’re still going to be with us a few more days, but your pain is only under control with the epidural, which I will be tapering starting today. I want you on oral pain medication by Thursday, okay? Let me check the incision.”

I watched the doctor as she carefully inspected the staples that lined my lower abdomen. I knew that was going to hurt like hell once I transition to regular pain medication, but for now, I don’t feel a thing. She gently palpated my stomach, another gesture which should have hurt but didn’t. She nodded as she put my gown back down seeming pleased.

“Everything is going well, Jimmy. I’ll check on you again tomorrow, okay? As a precaution, Dr. Mathias will be in to see you and will talk about increasing your anti-depressant for a while.”

I nodded again, something I find that I’m doing more and more of late. I just don’t want to talk to anyone, though I made the effort when I had visitors. I placed Penelope’s ashes on the bedside table and sighed, running my hands over my face. I didn’t want my first pregnancy to be my last and I certainly didn’t want it to end like it had. I pinched my arm once again, only to be admonished by my mother; a bruise was forming from the abuse I was inflicting on the spot.

“I wish I could tell you this was just a bad dream,” she said, sitting next to me on the bed. She put her arm around me and I leaned into the touch. “But I can’t. We just have to get through this together, okay?”

I nodded, as my door opened. Jacoby had been given three weeks of FMLA leave plus another two weeks of bereavement. Normally, we get one week, but under the circumstances, Sean approved two, so that we could be together as much as possible these first weeks.

“The doctor said you’re able to go upstairs in a few days. I thought we’d go up to the NICU and see Priscilla today.”

“I’d like that. How is she doing?”

“She’s doing well. She’s responding to the treatment to mature her lungs and the doctor said that right now, things are looking up.”

That should’ve made me happy, but it’s hard when her twin passed away. I’m not mad at Priscilla, not by any means, because it wasn’t her fault. But it’s hard to see her and not think about what we might have had. I know that the next few weeks and months are going to be a huge challenge for us as well; she’s a preemie and while she’s only technically 13 weeks early, she’s still so tiny. I’ve only seen her the one time and while I love her, I don’t know if I want to see her again.

“Will you be able to get in a wheelchair?” mom asked, and I thought about that. With the epidural in, that means my legs are as numb as my abdomen, which makes walking difficult, almost impossible.

“I’ll try,” I decided, as Jacoby came to sit on the bed with me. The problem is that I don’t want close contact with anyone. However, it would hurt his feelings if I didn’t let him hold me, so I tolerated it. Barely. “Uhm, could you adjust a bit? The covers are kind of tight over my legs.”

He nodded, standing and I resisted the urge to ask him to sit somewhere else. I was relieved when Dr. Mathias came in to visit and Jacoby moved to a bedside chair. The doctor had that look of sympathy that I’m getting so tired of seeing on his face.

“How are you feeling physically?” he asked, and I was glad he had the decency to understand that my feelings were two separate things right now.

“Fine. They’ve got me on an epidural, which they’re tapering. So I’ve got some pain, but not much.”

He nodded, looking over my chart. I’m sure it mentioned me being distant, crying a lot, being a little surly. But can you blame me? I lost one child, could’ve lost another and could’ve lost my life as well. I’m not going to be very cheerful, I’m afraid.

“I’m not even going to ask what the emotional pain is. That would be unfair. I’m simply going to increase your Paxil CR and add a second anti-depressant just for the short term, okay? If it works we’ll start tapering it down in a couple of months or so. It’s for your own safety, Jimmy,” he explained and I can’t argue with that. I’m not feeling very stable right now and I want to be stable before I go home. “I understand you’re moving to a surgical unit in a few days. I will be visiting frequently to see what changes we might need to make to your meds, okay?”

I nodded, then glanced at mom and Jacoby. I didn’t have to ask; they said they’d give me some time with the doctor. After all, this man has saved my life on countless occasions and I needed some help right now. As soon as the door clicked shut, the doctor sat down and handed me a box of tissues.

“I don’t know what to do,” I sobbed, as he held my hand. I placed Penelope’s ashes on the bedside table, having picked them up just before the doctor came in. “My mind just won’t settle, you know? I blame myself for this, I don’t want people near me, I don’t want to go to the NICU and face that. I want to kill myself, but I don’t want to kill myself. It’s like 1998 all over again, you know?”

The doctor nodded, knowing that I just needed to get this off my chest. I took a deep breath, wiping my eyes and staring at the urn on the table. The doctor picked it up, moving it out of reach, and I think he understood what I was about to do. I couldn’t believe I wanted to throw that urn, but I wanted to throw it as hard as I could out the window.

“I just…I want to go back to the night it all happened. I wouldn’t have gotten so worked up, you know? This is all my fault!”

The doctor was quiet, his way of letting me get more of my emotions out. I think, deep down, I knew this wasn’t my fault, but right now I believed that it was. I felt the doctor take me into his arms, rubbing my back, as he had done on so many other hospital admissions. The stress of the last few days was spilling over and my hands soon found my hair. I’d finally been able to grow it back out some, but that was all for naught. Huge clumps of reddish-brown hair littered the bed as I screamed and cried. I swept at the urn, but the doctor was faster and moved the bedside table away. Penelope was safe once again. I heard my door open, as I continued to scream, pulling my hair out in clumps. I felt a poke and then things went dark.

***

“I wish they hadn’t given him that Ativan.”

I groggily realized that Jacoby was speaking…or it might have been the doctor. Either way, I know the feeling in my body: I got out of control and they pumped me with Ativan to calm me down. It’s not necessarily supposed to knock me out, but it always does. I felt like I’d been run over by a truck, a feeling only intensified when I tried to raise my arms. I blinked my eyes open, looking around the room, relieved to see my mother and husband.

“Where’s Penny’s ashes?” I croaked out, still trying to clear the sleep from my eyes. I hate boluses of Ativan, I really do. “I didn’t hurt her, did I?”

Jacoby took my hand, and soon the angel was back in my hands. I was amazed at how quickly we’d received our baby after her passing, but glad that we had her. The urn was perfect, an angel holding an infant, painted in purple and silver. I still couldn’t believe I had pictures of her, either, but again was glad to have them. They were the only pictures we’d ever have, and I was going to cherish them.

“No, you didn’t hurt her. You were very upset and against my wishes, you were bolused with Ativan,” Jacoby explained and I nodded. “The doctor was getting you calm, but apparently, there’s a standing order. We’re getting that order changed so this doesn’t happen again.”

“Where’s Eliza?” I asked, looking around the room. I missed her, and I’m sure she’s confused.

“They won’t let her visit; she’s too young,” my mother explained, taking my hand. I nodded, but I was distressed at not being allowed to see my daughter. “We could call her, though. She’s staying with Hank at your farm.”

“I’d like that,” I said, and felt a bit more pain than usual. “Have they stopped the epidural?”

“Almost,” Jacoby explained, as mom handed me my phone. I must’ve been out for a long time, then, because I barely had any pain before the Ativan.

“Hello?”

“Hank, it’s Jimmy,” I started, and knew I’d have to go through him first. I didn’t mind, but I really just wanted to talk to my daughter. He asked how I was feeling right off the bat and I was honest with him. “I’ve been better. They’re tapering my epidural, so I’ve got a little more pain than I was having. Dr. Mathias was in today and increased my anti-depressant, as well as adding a second one to it. Emotionally I’m a mess, but I’m working through it. How’s Eliza?”

“She’s confused, of course. She’s feeling better, and her fever broke this morning. But she’s asking a lot of questions about where here daddies are and where the babies are. Do you want to talk to her?”

“I would love that.”

There was a slight rustle and then Eliza’s small, lisping voice came over the phone. I knew she’d been crying and I wanted to hug her so badly.

“Daddy?”

“Hi baby,” I said, trying to keep my emotions in check. “How are you?”

“Confused. Grandpa Hank is here with me, so is Grandpa Sullivan, but I’m still confused. Where are you daddy?”

I paused, deciding it was best to be honest with her, to an extent. She was only three, after all. “I’m in the hospital. I got sick, so Daddy J brought me here to get better.”

“Where are the babies?”

This is the hard part: what do I tell her? I paused to think, looking to my husband for help, even though he couldn’t exactly read my mind.

“Well, the babies are sick, too, so they’re here at the hospital with me.”

“Oh. I hope I can visit you soon, daddy. Grandpa Sullivan wants to talk to you. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” There was another rustle and then my dad said hello. “Hi dad.”

“Hi. What did you tell her about the babies?”

He was only looking out for his granddaughter and I appreciated that. I looked around the sterile room, and sighed.

“I told her they were sick and at the hospital with me. I don’t know how to explain Penelope to her,” I told him, looking out the window. The sun was shining today, but I wasn’t feeling it. The white tile floor and the white walls didn’t interest me, either. I wanted to have all three of my kids at home with me. “I’m not ready for that talk yet, you know? I wanted to have a few years before that was an issue.”

“Let me deal with her,” dad said, and I nodded, grateful. “We’ve had this talk with you kids, so I’m a little more prepared. You concentrate on healing, okay? I’ll be out in a little bit, once I give Hank a break and drop Miss Liza off at school. She’s on the afternoon rotation this week since the day time teacher is out sick. I love you.”

“Love you, too dad, thanks.”

I hung up, leaning back against my pillows. The twinge in my abdomen brought the events of a few days ago back to me and I cried, wishing I’d gone with Penelope.

5

Two weeks after all hell broke loose in our house, I was helping Jimmy walk into the house. He was still sore from surgery, but the worst of the pain had passed. I wish I could say that about the emotional pain, but I can’t. We’re both feeling it, and I know we’re going to feel it for years to come. By now, Jimmy's sisters had arrived and we once again had a houseful in a time of crisis. Thankfully, we had the basement done, because they could all sleep downstairs now.

In some ways, I wish they had a hotel, because we kind of need to be alone. But on the other hand, I don’t want to be alone with Jimmy. He’s had two breakdowns so far in the hospital and it’s only a matter of time before he has another one. We went up to see Priscilla before we left, and for being 12 weeks early, she’s made good progress in the last two weeks. They’re watching her heart, though, which has us worried. There’s a small defect in the aorta, between the chambers, but it’s not a big issue yet.

“I want to go to my office,” Jimmy whispered to me, and I nodded. He needs to be alone right now, though Dr. Mathias has advised against this. He was holing Penelope’s urn tightly, as we walked into the kitchen. “I want five minutes alone, please.”

“Okay. But then someone has to come in.”

He nodded, making his way across the hardwood floor and into the hallway. His office door shut seconds later and I fretted in the hall. I know that he’s not going to do anything to himself (we’ve purged his office of scissors and anything else we thought he might hurt himself with), but I worry. He was doing so well, and he was happy to be pregnant. I know he blames himself for what happened, even though it wasn’t his fault.

“Jacoby?”

His muffled voice came from the other side of the wood door and I stepped forward, entering his office. He’d repainted it last summer, to a shade of ocean blue, and it almost matched his eyes. Moving forward, I sat down on the red cloth couch with him, bringing his sobbing form into my arms. The pain from surgery is mostly gone, the staples are out, but the emotional pain is going to last a lifetime.

***

“Come on, Jim, it’s time for supper,” I said, entering his office. Katie had been sitting with him and I know they’d done a lot of talking. He hadn’t eaten much in the hospital, only eating more when he was threatened with tube feedings. I couldn’t threaten that here to home, so I had battle him. “Your dad made chili.”

He shook his head and I resisted the urge to sigh. We were in this together, but we both dealt with things in different ways: he stops eating and I just muddle through but refuse to speak about the problem. I went to him, but Katie shook her head, indicating that she’d deal with him. I took a deep breath, counting to 10. He’s my husband, so what right does she have to butt in?

“Look—“ I started, but was dragged out of the room, my angry tirade lost as the door closed in front of me. I turned to see my mother standing behind me and clenched my fists. “He’s my fucking husband, he’s fucking hurting and no one will let me fucking deal with him! When did I lose the right to help my fucking spouse?!”

My mother didn’t flinch, just stood her ground, her face gentle. I was seething at her, moments away from taking a swing at the wall, and she’s as calm as can be. I raised my fist, but she caught it before it hit the wall, and I glared at her. How dare she stop me?

“Look, I know he’s your husband, but you’re both hurting, Jacoby. You’re dealing with it in your own special way: you stop talking about the problem. He’s not eating. You both need some time to be with other family members. Now, his sisters and I are only here for a week, the most we could get off of work. We’re here for the memorial service, then we have to go back. On the other hand, his parents, recently retired, are here indefinitely. Let him have his time, okay? You need to think about Penelope’s memorial service and that’s how you can help him right now. But if you won’t talk to us, then how the hell are you expecting to talk to him?”

If she hadn’t been restraining my arm, I’d have slapped her. I don’t know how she can say that to me, because me and Jimmy have done nothing but talk about this since he came to of sedation. How the hell can I be accused of not talking to him?

“You know what? I’m going for a fucking walk.”

I ignored every person that tried to call me back to the house, as I put on my shoes and grabbed a jacket. I didn’t have to put up with this and I wasn’t going to. Once I had my keys, I slammed the back door behind me and started up the gravel. I needed to talk to someone and no one in that house was going to listen to me. None of them have any fucking clue what we’re going through and while I appreciate their support, I can only take so much.

I can walk a very fast mile, and in no time at all, I was at Hank’s door, walking right in, as I was accustomed to. He was sitting at the table, looking over the paper, and looked up when he heard me. I didn’t have to say a word as I rummaged through the cupboards, getting a glass, some ice, a stirrer, and then the whiskey. I placed everything on the table, only to have the whiskey taken away.

“Jacoby, drinking isn’t going to help,” he advised me, filling the glass with water instead. The whiskey went back to the freezer and I pounded my fists on the table in frustration. “I know you’re angry, sad, pissed off, tired of your family, whatever the case may be. But drinking never helps anything.”

I rubbed my hands over my face, as the door opened once again and Jimmy stormed in. His movements were identical to mine, and Hank once again put the whiskey away, giving my husband water instead. He left us sitting at the small round table that has graced the mint-colored kitchen for 50 years as he got out a frying pan.

“Now, talk,” he instructed, buttering several slices of bread. Eleanor would always make food when we came over and her grilled ham and cheese sandwiches are like none other. “What’s going on?”

“No one will let me be with Jimmy,” I started, taking a drink of water. It wasn’t the same, but it was the best I was going to get. “I need to be with him because we have a memorial service to plan, and we need each other, but he’s been home since 11 this morning and I’ve seen him for all of five minutes!”

Jimmy took my hand, as Hank placed plates of steaming, melty sandwiches in front of us. I was hungry, but I could tell that Jimmy had no intention of eating. Hank sat down with a plate of his own shortly thereafter and I sighed, taking a napkin. Food is how so many problems are dealt with in Iowa, but it wasn’t helping tonight.

“Now, what’s going on? I know that things are tough right now, but talk to me. Jimmy, you just got out of the hospital. Physically, how are you feeling?”

“Fine. I’m a little sore yet, but nothing bad. My emotions are the main problem, though. I’m on increased anti-depressant medication, with a second medication to bolster it, but it’s not doing much. I’m going through a lot of emotions right now, but no one will leave alone long enough to deal with things.”

Hank nodded, as he started eating, watching Jimmy to see if he was going to eat or not. If Hank could get Jimmy to eat without threats, I’d be amazed. Eleanor could always get Jimmy to eat, but this was a completely different situation from normal. He could use the excuse his food was too hot, but that would only work for so long.

“Continue.”

Jimmy sighed, his fists clenching, and I knew he wanted to yank at his hair. We’d had it shaved after the second breakdown, however, and it would stay that way until he was more stable.

“I—I just want to know what went wrong, you know? I want to know why I went into labor so early and I want to know why my baby had to pass away. I want to know how I survived when Penelope didn’t. I want to know why Priscilla is in the NICU when she should be in me for the next few weeks. I want to be with my daughter, but I have to be here for Jacoby and my girls. Why didn’t I just let go when I was in surgery? What’s keeping me here?”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! I turned to him, ready to open my mouth in yet another angry tirade, when Hank got there first. In retrospect, it was probably for the best.

“That’s how I felt after losing Eleanor. I wanted to go with her, but something was keeping me here, though I didn’t know what. Those feelings are completely normal, I learned from my grief counselor. You guys need to get with a grief group or counselor, because that’s going to help immensely. You’re never going to forget Penelope, you’re never going to get over her death, but you can move forward. You don’t have to do that now or in six months, but over time, you will learn. I’ll give you the number of my counselor and he can help you with your options. The key is to talk to each other. Don’t get angry with each other because of your feelings, just talk things over.”

I nodded in tandem with my husband, who had taken one very small bite from his sandwich. As the back door opened once again, Jimmy shot out of his chair, a hand clamped over his mouth. While he thundered upstairs to the bathroom, his dad sat in his chair, looking distressed.

“I was hoping I’d find you guys here. Everyone at the house was worried sick when you guys ran off.”

Hank smiled at Jimmy's dad, indicating that he could have the food. Joe took a bite of the sandwich and finished it in no time. It was clear that our departure had sparked worry and lack of appetites, which I felt bad for.

“This is where the boys always come when there’s a problem,” Hank explained, wiping his fingers on a napkin. I followed suite, finishing my water, as Jimmy's footsteps sounded down the stairs. He looked pale as he sat down at the table. “I’m going to give them the number for my grief counselor, because he worked wonders for me.”

“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Joe agreed, giving his son a worried look as he ran back upstairs. I got up and ran after him, stopping outside the bathroom door. I knew that I would not be welcome right now, so I went back downstairs, my appetite demolished. “Thank you for taking such good care of the boys, Hank.”

He nodded, never one to brag. He simply did what needed doing and if we needed taking care of, he’d do it. Jimmy's dad quickly called everyone else, no doubt telling them we’d been found, safe and sound. I knew that everyone was worried about us, but I really needed to talk to someone who’d been through a major death like this.

“I think I’m going to take Jimmy home,” I said, as he returned to the kitchen. He was leaning on the wall for support and his dad hurried to help him walk. “Thank you for everything.”

“Let me know when the memorial is,” he said, walking us out to my truck. We managed to squeeze in, and I rolled down the window. “I know this is hard, guys, but you’re stronger than you think. Give it some time, okay?”

I nodded, taking his hand for a moment before we headed for home. I wish this were easier, hell I wish my children were still in Jimmy's womb! I know it’s not his fault, but no one knows what went wrong. The best Dr. Peterson could give us was that he was at high risk to begin with. He shouldn’t have been able to get pregnant in the first place, so I guess we should be happy things went as well as they did. It still hurts, though, and I can’t believe I’ve lost a child.

“Coby, we’re home now,” Joe said, and I watched him help Jimmy out of the truck. The slim man clung to his father as they walked inside and I watched his shoulders shake with sobs. “Let’s sit down and try to eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” Jimmy murmured, and I think it’s best if he lays down. His father said as much, taking Jimmy to the couch once we were inside. “I want Penelope.”

I moved into Jimmy's office and got the urn, making sure it was nestled in his arms, as his mother placed a trashcan nearby and got a cool rag for him. I reluctantly sat at the table, my head in my hands, as I stared down a small bowl of chili. It was plain, but it smelled unappealing. I pushed it back, apologizing to Jimmy's dad.

“I’m sorry, I’m just not hungry,” I said, and he smiled in an understanding way. I felt guilty, because he’s an amazing cook, but I just can’t eat. “I just…I can’t eat right now.”

“It’s okay,” he told me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Be with Jimmy. We’ll help you guys with the memorial after we eat.”

I nodded, standing and leaving the room. After seeing that Jimmy was asleep, I went to my office and sat down at my laptop. Jimmy and I had decided to place an obituary for Penelope though we had no idea what to write. We’d finally started jotting down our thoughts last night and I decided to proof that and see if I needed to add to it.

Penelope Marcella Shaddix was stillborn at Creighton University Hospital on October 14th, 2013 at 0430. A twin sister Priscilla June Shaddix, an older sister Eliza Eleanor Shaddix, and her parents James and Jacoby Shaddix, paternal grandparents Joe and Barbara Sullivan and Jeanette Shaddix, and Hank Marks, along with many aunts and uncles, survive her. She was preceded in death by paternal great-grandmother Marcella Sullivan, and paternal grandmother Eleanor Marks. She is loved and miss by all.

I couldn’t believe that I’d just finalized my daughter’s obituary.

*hugs Coby and Jimmy*

They don't need this, if I was them I'd have turfed the family out to a hotel, they need their space.

I think they should've done that as well but being who they are...they couldn't bring themselves to do that. No matter that it would be very beneficial for them, mind you.

I'm going to be gone today, but wanted to give you a chapter before I leave (I think I forgot yesterday...I was running my damn tail off all day!)

***

6

The first few days after returning home are a blur to me. I know that I functioned, somehow, somewhat. But I did little else. I can’t eat, and I know I need to, but I can’t. If I eat, I get sick and I’m tired of getting sick. I know I spent a lot of time sleeping, and tried to isolate myself, even thought that proved to be a fruitless effort. Mostly, I dreaded the memorial service coming up for Penelope. My sisters are only able to be here for one week, and so they chose the week of the service to come out. I’m grateful, and I wish they could stay, but I suppose we can’t put it off any longer.

“It’s time, Jim.”

I raised my head and looked into my dad’s blue eyes, which matched my own. He offered his arm and I took it, allowing him to lead me from my office. My black suit fit my mood, as we walked out into the backyard. At least we didn’t have to go far. We weren’t going to spread her ashes or anything, either, just have a small service for her. Then, her urn would go on our mantel so that we could remember her whenever we walked into the living room. A friend of Eleanor’s was going to say a few words for us at the service, since neither of us felt strong enough to do it on our own.

I was surprised at the turn out, honestly. Jacoby and I were seated with family, of course, but our backyard was almost full. I saw several people from work, neighbors, staff from the OB unit and the NICU, and friends as well. Molly was there, and I wondered who was tending bar. Anthony, Hollister, Sean, and Racheal were just a few of those from work who had turned out. I was off work until the doctor gave me the go ahead to go back, and that would not be for at least six weeks yet. Jacoby has this week off and then he’s back on Monday.

“Welcome, everyone. My name is Anna Markson, I was a close friend of Eleanor. The boys have asked me to say a few words on their behalf today,” she said. Her grey hair was long and flowed around her shoulders, while her brown eyes were bright. She’d become a good friend in the years since Eleanor’s passing, and so we felt comfortable with her participation today. “Penelope’s short life was spent with her fathers. She was a surprise to everyone, and her arrival even more so. But in her short time, she touched those that cared for her, her fathers and her extended family. It is never easy to lose a child, especially at birth. Whatever your beliefs, it is easy to question the motives of whatever high power decides when our time is up. But we know she’s in good hands, wherever you believe she might be. Eleanor will see to her safety for us.”

There was a moment of silence, as it was meant to be a short service. When a few moments had passed, Anna bent to pick up a spade. We’d decided to plant a tree in Penelope’s honor, and this was our cue to move forward. I couldn’t really do much, but I could at least move a little dirt.

“The family has opted to plant a tree in Penelope’s honor. If her fathers will come forward,” she said, and we followed her to the spot the tree was already sitting Earlier in the day a friend with a small Bobcat had come and dug a hold for us. Now, the tree sat, waiting for dirt to cover it, and a small plaque made mom and dad had had made would go just in front. “Jimmy, would you like to go first?”

I nodded, taking the spade and carefully moving a small amount of dirt into the hole. Jacoby took the spade next, and then our families and friends came forward. In no time at all, the small maple tree was planted, and Eliza helped her grandmothers put some water on it. She was out of school for this, and while she clearly didn’t understand what was going on, she was sitting still and being quiet.

“For those that are interested, there’s a small luncheon inside at this time,” Anna announced and we all moved indoors. It was chilly outside, thanks to the onset of fall recently, and the warmth would feel good. I felt an arm around my shoulders and turned to look at Anna. “It was a fitting memorial, Jimmy. And the headstone is beautiful.”

I nodded, as I walked inside. The headstone from mom and dad was indeed beautiful. It’s made of granite and has our daughter’s name and dates etched in it as usual. They also got a unicorn etched above her name and a small angel etched between her dates. It’s simple, but beautiful. I could smell the food once I got inside and while it smelled good, I wasn’t hungry. I realize that it’s not healthy, but how would you feel? Honestly, I’d rather not eat then have another breakdown…though I don’t think I’m done with those yet, either.

“Here, honey.”

Mom handed me a small plate of food: all of my favorites were lined on its flimsy white surface. I picked up a round cracker with some cheese on it, but the smell alone made me put it back down. She gave me a sympathetic look, then exchanged the plate for a glass of water. At least I can drink that. I looked around at all the flowers and cards we’ve gotten of late; it doesn’t seem right, you know? Besides, what are we supposed to do with all the flowers and cards? Sure, the donations are nice, since we’re putting that toward medical expenses, but the cards will just get put in storage or the trash and the flowers will die. I guess it’s the thought that counts, right?

“Jimmy, I’m so sorry on your loss.”

I thanked the unknown person and accepted a card, which I placed in a basket near our front door. Why are people always sorry at funerals? It’s not their fault the person died. In this case, I’m still trying to figure out how this is my fault. I know that everyone says it’s not, but I was carrying them, so what did I do wrong?

“Hey Jim. How are you holding up?”

I looked into Sean’s eyes and knew that he didn’t just mean physically or emotionally. He meant all of me, and I sighed, looking into the glass of water still clutched in my hand.

“Not so great.”

He nodded, setting his food and drink aside and embracing me. It’s a memorial service luncheon, so no one was going to be shocked to see me crying. I couldn’t help it, and I was glad when he moved me to my office. He’d never been to the house before that I’m aware of, yet he knew right where to go. Lucky for me I was hanging out near the hallway, huh?

Once we were inside my office, I set my glass on a coaster and then planted myself carefully in my black leather desk chair. Even though the incision is mostly healed and the staples are out, I still get sore if I move wrong or plop into a chair or something. I turned and faced out the window into the backyard, looking into the blue sky, which was slowing turning pink, orange and a bit of purple with the sunset. We still get a fair amount of daylight in October, and I dread the time change coming up next month.

“What can I do?”

I blinked a bit, looking back at my boss, thinking how unusual it was to have him in my personal space. I mean, it’s just my office, but it reflects me perhaps more than anything else in this house. I could see him looking at the walls, at the canvases displayed there. Eventually, he figured out who painted them. They reflect one of my new favorite ways to relieve stress, a hobby I picked up shortly after Eliza turned one.

“I don’t honestly know. I’m just trying to hold myself together right now.”

“You’re not eating,” he observed, and I nodded, pulling my legs under me. I’ve never been heavy by any means, but I can now fit my entire body comfortably in this chair. “Why?”

“It makes me sick. I don’t like throwing up, so I don’t eat.”

The thing is, Jacoby is hurting just as much as me. But with family here, we’re each confiding in anyone but each other. I have my sister he has his mother. His mother and my sisters will be gone on Sunday night, leaving just my parents.

“Have you tried talking to Jacoby?”

“Yeah. But with family here, it’s tough. He talks to his mom, I talk to Kelly and Katie. But when we try to talk to each other, we get interrupted or it’s time to sleep. That’s the one thing I do very well right now: sleep. I want to talk to Jacoby about this, but no one gives us a chance, you know? I don’t mind being distracted from it now and again, but honestly, at some point, we need to talk to each other. As much as I don’t want his mom and my sisters to leave on Sunday, it might be for the best, so we can talk to each other.”

Sean nodded, setting his glass of pop aside. I waited to hear what he had to say, as he is surprisingly good at giving advice. I think that’s why his pending marriage (which he doesn’t know about, so don’t tell him), is going to last. Yes, his boyfriend of the last three years is going to propose. He managed to pop into the ER on a day Sean had off and see what we thought about him proposing. Naturally, since we’ve grown to know and like the guy over the last three years, we thought it was a great idea.

“Well, it’s understandable that you’d both want time with family while they’re here. You’re not isolating yourself, are you?”

Did you know that I cannot run out of tears and anger? In this case, it was anger, and I didn’t realize it had been building up for some time, apparently. I slammed my fist onto my desk, thankful that I’d replaced the previously flimsy one with a nice, solid oak one. Sean didn’t flinch, just waited for me to speak, as I breathed heavily through my nostrils.

“No one will let me be alone for more than a few seconds! Doesn’t anyone realize that I need some downtime here? I want to be alone for a few minutes or even an hour. I need time to process what’s been happening and when I’m around people constantly, I can’t do that! When do I get some time to myself?!”

I was pacing now, thankful that my hair had been shaved off. I had no idea what was going on, but there were arms around me and they weren’t Sean’s. I looked into a pair of identical blue eyes to mine seconds before a pair of plump lips crashed onto my own. I sank into the kiss, welcoming the first intimacy in weeks with my husband. I didn’t even realize Sean was leaving until he winked at me, closing the door as Jacoby and I parted.

“I love you. Don’t you ever forget that. I’m going to see if I can get people to back off you a bit, okay? I came in to check on your and I heard what you said. I think you’re right, and I’m going to see what I can do about it.”

“That’s all I’m asking for,” I said, as we held each other. It felt good to be in his embrace, though I’m still not ready for anything more. “I just need a chance to deal with this and I haven’t had that yet, you know?”

“I know, really, neither of us has. We’ve only got a couple more days to spend with your sisters and my mom. Let’s make the most of it and then we can start with our down time, okay?”

I nodded, as we turned to go back out. I needed to be at least a little social, as the luncheon would be winding down soon anyway. My house could get rid of all these extra people and perhaps I could relax for once. I put on my game face and returned to the dining room, holding my glass of water so tight I thought it would break.

“I’m sorry, Jimmy, about Penelope.”

I endured that for another half hour.

“It was a fitting memorial. The tree will be lovely.”

And that.

“If you ever need someone to talk to, just let me know.”

And that.

Needless to say, I was glad when everyone left. I walked over to the mantel, looking at the angel that held my daughter. I could only hope that we would not now lose Priscilla, whose health varied greatly from day to day. For the most part, doctors are optimistic about her chances, but she’s got a heart condition, so it’s a waiting game. She’s not strong enough for surgery yet, and she’s getting to the point she needs it.

“Would you guys like to go out to eat tonight?”

I looked up at Jacoby’s mom, who was smiling at me. It’s probably one of the few un-sympathetic smiles I’ve seen of late. She was standing in the living room with me, and I wondered where Jacoby had gotten off to. The late afternoon sun was streaming through the bare trees in the yard, and I sighed, turning away from Penelope. There were still a few people around doing clean up, but I ignored them and focused on Jeanette.

“Sure.”

I think we both knew that I wasn’t going to be able to eat, but I could at least sit and visit, right? She smiled wider and said to get ready, that we’d leave in about half an hour. I didn’t really know what I needed to do other than get shoes on and that won’t take half an hour. That, and it’s only three in the afternoon. I don’t usually eat supper until at least six or seven, sometimes even eight. Why in the world are we going so early?

With a sigh, I went upstairs and into our bedroom. Right before we’d found out I was pregnant, we’d repainted that as well. It was a nice shade of mint green with a few chocolate accents. It was the middle of summer, is all I can think of, and we must’ve been in an ice cream mood. However, it looks really good, though it doesn’t nothing for my mood right now. I stood in our walk-in closet, alone for the first time in a while. I’d even taken the precaution of locking the bedroom door to keep people out. I don’t think even Jacoby knows about my little cubby, tucked back in a dark corner of the closet.

I crawled onto the old bean bag chair, sinking into its dark denim embrace. I laid my head down, curling into a ball, careful of my still-healing body. It was now that I really let myself go; I thought of everything relating to the pregnancy, the good feelings, the bad feelings, I thought of Priscilla, still in the NICU and destined to be there for several weeks. I thought of Penelope, hoping she was with Eleanor, wherever it is that one goes in death. I used to be a strong believer in religion, but over the years, I’ve become an agnostic. I hope there’s a special place for kids, though, a place where they can stay young and innocent for eternity. That’s where I want Penelope to be, a place where she’s free.

In a way, it’s where I want to go as well.

*hugs Jimmy*

And that's gotta be the first time in a long old while I haven't wanted to kick his skinny little ass. I'm so glad Sean managed to get him to talk, and that Coby was there right when he needed him. They can get through this, after everything else I know they can.

Life gets interesting for these two as we go. I think this story was important to tell...which I think will be clear as we go. But they are indeed stronger than they think!

***

7

If you knew Jimmy, you’d know how unusual this is: he is sitting next to me in a booth in a pizza restaurant and he hasn’t had one single slice of pizza. We even got his favorite: meat lovers. Yet, he’s sitting here, with a glass of pop, and he looks kind of green. I don’t know how to help him, and it’s upsetting. I’ve always been able to help him, but I can’t right now.

After a frantic search of the entire house, I finally found him in our closet, unaware that he had a hiding space in there. I respect that he has it and I’m not going to take it away, though he seemed afraid that I would do just that. I told him that he deserves to have a place to go that no one knows about and his secret was safe with me. He seemed to accept that, though I do wonder if he’ll move his hiding spot.

I still haven’t figured out why we left so early, however. I had hoped we didn’t have more company coming, and so far, I was right about that. Apparently, it was just to get us out of the house, because all we did was go to the mall. No one really bought anything, either, though I did get a couple of books. Jimmy just kind of followed listlessly behind me, and I don’t really think he paid attention to anything.

Now, we’re just quietly eating at a local pizza place, and I’m ready to go back home. We did stop by and see Priscilla, who is doing better, but otherwise, this trip seems to be pointless. Jimmy was fidgeting next to me in the booth, and I glanced over at him. He looked a little greener and a bit pale and then he bolted from his seat and ran for the bathroom. I really wish I could help him.

“When Jimmy gets back, we’ll go,” my mom announced, as Joe flagged someone down for to-go boxes. I knew that being around food was hard for Jimmy, but I really had hoped he’d come around after having a good cry, as he did. “Maybe we can get him to eat something tonight.”

“That might be a lost cause,” I muttered darkly, wondering how in the world we were going to get food down him. If the smell and sight of food make him vomit, what’s the taste going to do?

“What was that?” Barb asked, but I shook my head, playing it off as thinking aloud. She reached over after shooting me a lookand accepted the boxes. While Joe went to pay, I helped load up the leftovers, wondering if Jimmy was okay.

“I’m going to go check on Jimmy.”

No one objected as I stood up, placing my napkin on the table. I walked down the dimly lit hall, my shoes slapping the smooth brick floor. The men’s room door was on my right and I pushed the heavy door open, distressed when I saw Jimmy’s feet sticking out of a stall. Clearly, no one had been in here for a while and I hurried to the end stall, crawling under the beige door, only to find him passed out, head still in the toilet.

“Hell.”

I grabbed toilet paper and cleaned him up, then lifted him into my arms. Luckily, Creighton isn’t too far from here, and I can direct Joe to the ER. I’ve been sharing pitchers of beer with Jimmy's sisters, so I’m in no shape to drive. I won’t drive after half a drink, so I’m really not driving after the three of us polished off two pitchers of beer!

“Shit,” Katie said, as she saw me coming down the hall with her brother. She directed Kelly and Barb to hold the door open, as I instructed Katie to get my keys out of my left front pocket. I have a spare remote for the truck, and we won’t have to wait for Joe and my mom. “What happened?”

“He’s probably dehydrated,” I told her, as she unlocked the truck. I propped him up in the front seat of his truck and buckled him in, as mom and Joe came out with Eliza. Luckily, she was in my truck, though I knew there were going to be questions. “I’ll ride in my truck so I can answer Liza’s questions.”

Barb agreed to drive my truck, and I quickly got in, directing her to the fastest route. Eliza was confused, of course, and as soon as everyone was situated, the questions started.

“What’s wrong with daddy?”

I tried to put my answer into terms she’d understand, not sure how I should explain things to her. Flat out saying ‘daddy hasn’t been eating and now he’s dehydrated’ won’t work, and will only confuse her more. We’ve already had a hard time explaining Penelope to her; I don’t know how to explain this. Just as I arrived at what I thought was an appropriate response, Barb saved me, turning when I indicated.

“Daddy just isn’t feeling very well, honey. We’re going to take him to the doctor who will make him feel better.”

“Thank you,” I said, just loud enough for her to hear. She smiled and nodded, patting my arm; she’d had to answer tougher questions, I’m sure.

“Why didn’t daddy eat anything?”

“Well, daddy isn’t feeling well, so daddy wasn’t hungry,” she explained, as I directed her to the doors of the ER. “Sometimes, when people don’t feel well, they don’t want to eat. But the doctor will fix that, too.”

In the side mirror, I saw Jimmy's dad pull up as well, and as soon as my truck stopped, I hopped out, telling Barb to park anywhere. I hurried back to Jimmy, who was now semi-conscious. He slumped against me as I opened the door, and I picked him up, turning as I heard someone call my name. He was mumbling something but failing to make any sort of sense.

“Lay him here,” Becky, one of our night nurses instructed, pointing to a stretcher. I laid my husband down, grabbing his hand as we ran inside. “His dad called ahead, so we’re ready for him. All of his information is on file, so he’s checked in. Dehydration would be my guess.”

“That’s my guess as well,” I said, as we moved into bay four. Becky was right about them being prepared, as Dr. Rolfson, one of our many ER physicians came running in, followed by three other night nurses. I placed a blood pressure cuff around Jimmy’s left arm and grabbed for the stethoscope draped on the wall monitor. Becky took me out before I even got the cuff inflated. “I can help.”

“You’re too close to the situation, Jacoby. Besides, you’ve been drinking, so you can’t do anything anyway. Just stay out here with me and wait for more information.”

I watched people come and go from Jimmy's bay, including someone from admitting, who brought a name band and papers in. When nothing happened for a while and all was quiet, Becky planted me behind the nurse’s station, as she went to fetch Jimmy's family. My hands rubbed over my face, worry etched into the corners of my eyes.

“What’s up with Jimmy?” a voice asked, and I looked up to see Racheal, sitting at dispatch. I must’ve looked confused, because she smiled at me, pulling me into a hug for a moment. “I’m covering for Dale from 19-23 tonight. He had something going on with one of his kids and he’s covered my ass before, so it was only fair.”

“Oh. Well, he’s not been eating since he got home a few days ago. We went out today after the memorial service and while we were in the pizza place, he passed out in the bathroom. He’s been vomiting from the smell, sight, and taste of food. I’ve tried to get him to eat but—“

“It’s not your fault,” she said, rubbing my arm. I know she’s right, but it’s hard not to blame myself. I didn’t even realize I’d been crying until she embraced me again, and I felt her shoulder become wet. “I think you haven’t quite dealt with things, either, Jacoby. I’m here, okay?”

“It’s just—it’s not fair, you know? We were so careful, he was on light duty here, he did everything the doctor said. But still, one night of back pain leads to the death of my child? How is that fair, huh? How does that work? What went wrong, Racheal? What did we do wrong? Jimmy was so excited to be pregnant, even though we knew it was going to be a high-risk situation. But I mean he did EVERYTHING he was told to by his doctor. That night he just had some low back pain, you know? Eliza was sick, so he was sitting in the rocker by her bed. He’d been having back pain for a while, of course, but it got worse, so I decided to bring him in. Then, he ends up getting flown in because he’s bleeding out and it…it’s…it’s just not fucking fair!”

I think this is the first time I’ve really told anyone my feelings. I mean, we all say it’s not fair when something like this happens, but I truly feel that something was working against us for some reason. We were so happy that Jimmy got to carry a child on his own, despite the high risk, and then it was snatched away from us. I let Racheal hold me as I sobbed, finally letting most of my pent up emotions out. I appreciated her silence; she wasn’t telling me everything would be okay or that she understood.

“Just let it all out,” she said, rubbing my back, as I calmed. She never uttered more than that, just rubbed my back and let me cry. This is not to say that I haven’t cried for my daughter, but for once, I’m not bombarded with people apologizing for my daughter’s death. I’m not stuck with family, whom I love dearly, trying to make it all better with distractions.

When I felt more in control of my emotions, I leaned back, accepting a tissue from my friend, wiping my face. I was going to apologize for my outburst, but Racheal shook her head. I know she’s been where I’m at, but she didn’t share her story or say she understood. For that I was very grateful. Oddly, I was the one she turned to when she lost her first baby, seven years ago. I suppose this was just destined then, eh?

“Thank you,” I said, as Dr. Rolfson came out of Jimmy's bay. He didn’t look terribly grim, though I knew that was a practiced face. You didn’t get to be head of the ER without that look. “How is he?”

“Dehydrated, and I can tell he’s not eating. I’m going to admit him, give him some fluids and nutrients. I’m also going to have someone from dietary come meet with him. I won’t let him leave until he’s eating regularly again.”

“Does everyone else know?” I asked, the effects of the alcohol kicking in a bit. Beer really doesn’t do much for me, but I’d had a few and it’s been a while since my last drink. I really don’t want to be drunk at work…

“Yes, I just spoke with his family and they’re with him now. He’s a little disoriented, but he’s coming around. How are you doing?”

“I’m okay; Racheal gave me a chance to kind of vent just now. I’m eating, at least…I’m sorry if I’m making a total fool of myself right now, I had a few beers with supper.”

“No worries. As long as you’re not taking it to excess or drinking your feelings away, a few beers are not a problem. Are you in grief counseling?”

I shook my head, which kind of made the world spin. I don’t know why beer is having this effect on me, it never has before. Racheal handed me a trash can, just in time, and I sighed, embarrassed. I wasn’t feeling nearly as bad as Jimmy, but for some reason, my stomach was revolting against me. I accepted another tissue and cleaned myself up, looking up at the doctor, who pointed to a bay. I didn’t argue, I just followed him and stuck my hand out for an IV.

***

I finally got to see Jimmy two hours later. Apparently, I was a little dehydrated myself, though I’m not sure why. Either way, I’m good now and sitting beside Jimmy, watching fluids and nutrients drip into him. He’s asleep, since he was pretty exhausted with everything. I’m not feeling too hot myself, though the beer is through my system now. I’m embarrassed at my display downstairs, but the doctor assures me it’s nothing. I did confess that I’m not eating as much as usual, and I’m sure I’m not drinking as much water as usual, either. I haven’t told anyone, but some meals have made me sick to my stomach, so that’s part of it as well.

I didn’t realize until now just how much weight Jimmy has lost. During his hospital stay (prolonged by not eating), he would eat about a quarter of each meal, enough to satisfy everyone. Now that he’s been home and not eating, throwing up a lot, etc., I can see how thin he is. He’s always been slender, but if he loses more than about five pounds you can tell. Let me tell you: he’s lost a lot more than five pounds.

“Oh hell,” I muttered, leaning back in the pink vinyl, straight backed chair. I ran my hands down my face, then stood and kissed Jimmy's forehead. “I’ll be back, honey, I need to go see Priscilla.”

Jimmy's only response was to snore and turn over a bit. With a shake of my head, I left the room, walked down the dimly lit, usually beige hallway of the medical unit and headed for the elevators. It was after 10 now, but I’d made everyone go home without me. I didn’t want to go home; I wanted to be with Jimmy and my daughter. I knew that Eliza was confused, because when she’d seen Jimmy briefly there’d been so many questions. She’d even seen me getting fluids and had let the questions fly. Before everyone had left, I apologized over and over to my family and Jimmy's for leaving them with her for the night.

They’d assured me it was fine, but I wasn’t convinced, as I boarded the elevator. Everything is so dark in this place, you know? The elevator’s interior is always a sickly yellow, but the units are even dreary. Beige everywhere, dark carpet, lights dimmed at night to indicate sleeping time. At least the NICU and other areas are a little brighter, though it will be dim for night as well. I stepped off the elevator and looked around, sighing. The same dreary, dimmed light here as well, in the normally bright lobby. I managed to get here the same time as a night nurse, who recognized me and lead me in.

“You know how to get to the NICU?”

I nodded and thanked her for holding the door. The unit, normally a bright, cheerful yellow, now looked sickly as well, with the lights dimmed. I nodded to acknowledge the nurses and patients who greeted me and finally, I stood outside the NICU.

This place is a world unto itself, really. It’s housed on the OB unit, though there is a larger NICU on the pediatric floor. Eventually, when she’s a little stronger, Priscilla will transfer, but for now, she’s got to stay where she is. I took a breath and walked forward, entering the eerily silent unit. Knowing the drill already after just two weeks, I donned a paper gown, then moved to sit near my daughter.

“Oh Priscilla,” I breathed, looking at her frail, tiny body. There was a special ultraviolet light above her, and I knew that was for jaundice. She was a little yellow still, but it was clearing. I looked at the monitors above her bed and saw that her heart rate was where it should be. Perhaps we could avoid surgery after all, or at least until she’s older. “I love you, you know that right? I can’t wait to hold you and cuddle you and eventually beat up boys for you. You are going to be a great person when you grow up.”

There was no movement, of course, though her right hand did twitch. It’s distressing to see your child hooked up to all of these monitors, wires, and tubes, especially when you don’t know if she’s going to make it. She’s still so tiny, but they tell me she’s growing and getting stronger every day. I just wish I could touch her and hold her, because I think that would help all of us. As it was, I just sat back and hummed softly to her, hoping she could hear me.