they recognise my voice.
“You’re very frisky tonight. How do you think your mummy’s going to sleep with you two doing the Highland Fling in there?”
There’s a nudge beneath one hand and then the other.
“I know what you need. You need a lullaby.” I find a comfortable position and continue, “When your mummy was little, she got so tired running around. She loved to be outside in the sunshine; if there was a climbing frame she’d scramble up it and I’d have to run to catch her. I always did, except that one time…”
They seem to have settled.
“Some afternoons, when it was warm, we’d go off and find a shady spot beneath a tree to rest, tell stories, eat biscuits and your mummy would fall asleep with her head on my lap. And you know what helped her sleep? A lullaby. I sang to her. She’s doesn’t remember, but I do.”
I stop speaking. Beneath my hands there’s frantic movement.
“I’m still here. But you must go to sleep after I sing to you because you’ll be coming into this world soon and you need to be strong and healthy. You need to rest. So get comfy, okay?”
It’s not something I would normally do, but it’s good practice for the future, I suppose.
Quietly, I clear my throat…
“Twinkle, twinkle, little star
How I wonder what you are
Up above the world so high
Like a diamond in the sky
Twinkle, twinkle, little star
How I wonder what you are
How I wonder what you are
“Goodnight you two, go to sleep now. I love you both, so much.”
I place a kiss on Beth’s tummy where my hands were, left then right. There’s no kicking. The lullaby seems to have done the trick.
Before I can raise my head, I feel Beth’s hand softly stroking my hair. She’s been awake the whole time, leaving me to have my bonding session with our babies. I plant a soft kiss on her hand, wrap it around my body without a word, and close my eyes.
I’M NOT MYSELF.
Today I’m a jumble of emotions and disconnected thoughts.
I think today is the day.
Every morning for the past four months before leaving for work, Ayden has asked, “How are our babies today?”
I have replied with an assortment of words: playful, restless, snuggling, fidgety… Today was the exception. “Sleepy.” That wasn’t entirely true. I knew they were awake … they were getting into position, readying themselves…
I’m doing the same.
Contractions started about an hour ago. To combat back pain, I’ve taken a warm bath and tried to walk it off with a stroll around the garden, but nothing is working. Now might be a good time to give their father a call.
Two hours into the early stages of labour, Ayden flies from the lift into the lounge as if jet propelled. “What’s happening?” he asks, breathing heavily.
I pat the sofa. “Come and sit down. Catch your breath. I’m having contractions about every half hour.”
He reaches for his phone. “I’ll call an ambulance.”
“No need. Have you eaten lunch?”
“Lunch? No… I’m not hungry.”
“Let Bernie prepare something. It’s almost one o’clock and we won’t be leaving for…” I stop short of finishing the sentence, caught out by a contraction that isn’t due for another ten minutes. “Ouch! That was a strong one.”
Ayden jumps up. “Fuck it!” He turns to Bernie. “Tell Lester to get the Rolls out. We’re leaving now!”
“Right away. Beth’s case is by the lift.” Bernie scoots off to her part of the house to tell her father.
Taking Ayden’s hand I attempt to stand, but another contraction spears through my stomach causing me to stumble. “Give me a minute.”
“I can’t believe you left it so late. I’m calling an ambulance.” He moves a couple of feet away and begins punching numbers into his phone. “They’re on their way,” he reassures me. “Fifteen minutes, max.”
He slips his phone in his trouser pocket and returns to me. “I’m going to carry you. Put your hands around my neck.” He scoops me up in his arms.
“Are you sure the three of us aren’t too heavy for you?” I ask, kissing his left cheek.
“No, you’re not,” he snaps, much too preoccupied with his task to care about a silly thing like weight. “Just hold tight.”
“Don’t look so anxious, Ayden. We’ll be fine.” As we descend in the lift, I reach out to Bernie. “Remember to turn off the oven, and don’t forget to serve the sauce with the fish.”
Ayden rolls his eyes. “Forget the fish, Beth. We’re having twins and you’re bothered about bloody sauce?”
“I took