35. Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Five
“Having the care and support of friends and family during this exciting time makes the pregnancy even more memorable for the expectant mother.”
A Young Woman’s Guide to the Joy of Impending Motherhood
Dr. Francine Pascal Reid (1941)
W hen I woke up in the morning, J.B. was gone. I thought I dreamed the whole thing. The only proof I had that he was there was an imprint of a head on the pillow.
Triplets! Three babies! Who has three babies at once? Here is your baby, says stupid doctor, and here is your baby, and oh, yeah, here is another one! Three babies.
The concept takes some getting used to.
After throwing up my breakfast, which Cooper brought downstairs to me, I did the thing I should have done months ago. I called my mother. As I was waiting for her to pick up, I decided it was a good thing I wasn’t with Terri in person, since I still hadn’t brushed my teeth since throwing up and most likely had the worst breath.
″Mom? It’s Casey.” I almost called her Terri, but thought it was time I started calling the grandmother of my children by her rightful name.
″Hi, there, sweet—hello.” The welcoming voice changed quickly but I chose to ignore it. I was mending bridges, not redigging old ditches. Yes, I’d been a horrible daughter and hadn’t spoken to her since the day she came into the store and I gave her the worst mother of the year award, but it was time to move on. There was no way I could take back what I’d said, so I just decided to gloss over the fact and pretend it never happened.
″I just wanted to call—I thought you’d like to know—I went to the doctor’s yesterday and found out I’m having triplets. Three babies.”
″Oh, Casey!” The warm and welcoming voice instantly returned. “Triplets! Oh, sweetface, how wonderful!
″Is it? I’m pretty freaked out about the whole concept.”
″I’m not surprised,” Terri laughed. “You know, my mother had twins. I’ve heard these things skip a generation.”
″She did? What—what happened?”
″Uncle Michael. He had a brother, but he died after only a few days.”
″That’s so sad.” And so scary. It was the first time I’d ever given a thought to something happening with my babies.
It was like my mother could read my mind. “But nothing like that will happen to you, Casey. It was a long time ago, and things are different now. I remember when I found out I was pregnant with you. I went into denial for about two weeks. I refused to believe it, not because I didn’t want you, but because I was so scared. Then I started throwing up all over the place and couldn’t deny it any longer.”
″You had morning sickness?”
″Morning, noon, and night. It was horrible. How are—”
″I’ve got it too! It started the day—the day you came into the store.” There, that gave an excuse for me behaving like a bitch if she wanted to bring it up
Terri sighed. “You poor thing. Just keep reminding yourself it will come to an end. And the funny thing is I never got it with Libby. Just you.”
″So I might not have it again?”
″You want to have more than three kids?” Terri asked, and I could tell she was smiling.
″I’ll get through these first. Um, how are you and, um, Eric?”
″It’s nice of you to ask. We’re just fine. He’s been after me to decide on a wedding date. Says he won’t move in without a ring on my finger, isn’t that funny? Usually it’s the woman who pushes for it, but not this time. I’d be okay just living together, but not Eric.”
″He must really love you,” I said slowly. It was strange to think of my mother as being loved by a man. It was strange to think of her as lovable at all .
″I think he does,” Terri said lightly. “It’s nice.”
″I guess.” There was a pause. “Do you remember that book you gave me?” I asked suddenly. There was dead silence, so obviously she didn’t remember. “It was a pregnancy book from the forties. A Young Woman’s Guide—″
″To the Joy of Being a Mom, or something like that? Of course. I read that when I was pregnant as well. I remember there was a lot of bullshit—”
″Exactly!”
″But there was some helpful information in it. I gave it to you because you kept talking about having a baby, and I thought it might be interesting for you.”
″Oh.” So much for my theory she was just being a bitch trying to rub salt in my non-baby wound at the time. I feel pretty bad thinking that for so long. Maybe I should have just asked her. Maybe I should have—
″Why?” Terri asked.
″No reason. I’ve just been reading it. There’s a part in there about not trying to conceive after a woman is thirty-seven.”
″Aren’t you glad you’re pregnant now, and not yet thirty-six? You still have time for another one if you want!”
″Don’t think so!”
″I was eighteen when I got pregnant with you,” Terri reminisced, “and I remember reading that part and thinking thirty-seven sounded so old. Now it seems so young. There are so many women these days having babies later in life. You’ll fit right in. Whoever wrote that book obviously couldn’t predict how things would change in the future.”
″I guess not.”
″Thanks for calling,” Terri said. “If you need anything, anything at all, you just have to ask. I’ll do whatever you need, get you a crib or babysit or… Triplets. It’s so wonderful. My baby is having her own babies.” Terri’s voice sounded thicker suddenly, and I had a feeling she might be ready to cry.
″Thanks.” I was not sure how to deal with an emotional mother. “I’ll let you know—I’ll call you. Let you know how things are going.”
″I’d like that.” Okay, definite tears there. “Bye, sweetheart.”
″Bye, Mom.”
I think it might have been the nicest conversation I’d ever had with my mother, and I felt pretty good about myself.