Page 129 of What if It's Us

I press my hands to my belly, my brows furrowed. “I don’t know…it’s like everything is clenching? It’s not super painful,but it keeps coming in waves. I think I might be having contractions.”

He bolts upright, panic stricken. “What?”

I grab his arm, trying to keep him grounded. “I don’t want to panic. I’ve read about Braxton Hicks. This could just be practice.”

“Or it could be not practice.” He rubs the back of his neck with his hand. “We’re only at twenty-seven weeks, Mar.”

“I know.”

I can hear the nervous wobble in my voice as I try to remain calm, but Ledger is already out of bed, pacing in his sweatpants. “Okay, we should call. Let’s call. Or go in. Should we go in?”

I take a deep breath, trying to focus on the rhythm of these possible contractions. “Let me just time them for a second, okay? If they don’t go away in like, half an hour, we’ll call Dr. Kwan.”

Ledge pauses mid-step. “Half an hour? Marlee, that’s…that’s forever in premature baby time!”

Okay. I can’t stay calm for both of us.

“Ledger,” I say as gently but firmly as possible. “Panic is not helpful.”

He takes a long inhale, hands on his hips, and then bows his head. “Right. Sorry. Okay. I’ll…start packing a hospital bag. Just in case.”

“We’re not going to the hospital.”

“I’m packing it anyway!”

He storms toward the closet and I let him because at least it gives him something to do to keep his mind busy. In the meantime, I grab my phone and open the contraction timer app Dr. Kwan showed us weeks ago, trying not to let my mind spiral as well. After two more tight waves, each only about five minutes apart, I catch my breath and mutter, “Okay, time to call.”

Ledger’s back in an instant, holding two mismatched socks and a baby onesie. “What did they say?”

“I haven’t called yet,” I tell him, dialing. “But please don’t pack the babies a six-month outfit for tonight.”

He makes a strangled sound. “Sorry! I panicked!”

The phone clicks and I speak with the on-call nurse. She asks me a few questions and tries to give me enough reassurance but recommends we come in just to be safe.

Labor and Delivery nurses have me hooked up to monitors within minutes of our arrival. My belly’s sporting three stretchy bands that track the babies’ heart rates and my contractions. Ledger sits beside me, chewing a piece of gum like it’s laced with caffeine.

The nurse next to me smiles kindly. “Looks like Braxton Hicks, but a little more frequent than we’d like. We’re going to monitor you for another hour, maybe give you some fluids. But the babies look great.”

Relief floods Ledger’s face so fast, he sags into the chair. “So…it’s not labor?”

“Not right now,” the nurse reports. “But Marlee’s body’s working hard carrying three babies, so it’s going to have its dramatic moments once in a while. Especially the further along we get.”

I let my head fall back with a breathy laugh. “Dramatic. That’s one word for it.”

I don’t tell Ledger I think these babies get their dramatic tendencies from him too.

When the nurse leaves a long silence settles in. Then Ledger leans forward, resting his forehead against my arm. “I was scared out of my mind.”

“I know,” I say softly, brushing my fingers through his hair. “Me too.”

“I love them,” he says quietly. “And I love you. And I don’t want anything to happen to either of you. When I told the kids I would see them soon, I didn’t mean tonight, I swear.”

“We’re okay, Ledger,” I reassure him with a smile, albeit an exhausted one. “We’re doing everything right.Youare doing everything right and I appreciate you so much.”

He looks up at me, eyes a little glassy. “I packed you a can opener, two thongs, a pen, and the baby monitor.”

Oh, my God!

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