I’m holding my sons, one in each arm, swaddled in blue blankets from head to toe. I peer at them through the dark, my headlamp barely cutting a swath through the driving rain—but I can’t make out their faces. Hey, hold up. Aren’t my babies supposed to be in my belly right now?
I look down and the rocks beneath my bare feet crumble and fall away into the darkness below. I step back, trying to steady myself on firmer ground, but the rocky ledge beneath my feet is shifting.
I tilt my face up and let the warm, sheeting rain pound me in the face.
Hold up. How is it raining inside a cave?
I stick out my tongue. The rain tastes salty. And metallic. The smell of blood suddenly fills my nostrils. I jerk violently with my epiphany and scramble to focus my headlamp on the bundles in my arms. My light illuminates a crimson-soaked blanket in my right arm—and then in my left. Dark, wet, viscous blood is dripping off the bundles in my arms and making me gag. Oh, God. There’s blood everywhere. All over me. All over the babies. And dripping down the rocks surrounding me. I try to shriek, but nothing comes out of my mouth.
My stomach clenches. I have to save my babies from this torrent of blood. I look down toward the dark water below and my knees knock uncontrollably. That’s a long, dark, scary-as-shit way down. I can’t do this. I’m not ready. Oh shit. No effing way.
“Sarah,” a calm voice beneath me says. “I’m right here.”
Jonas.
“You’re gonna be okay, baby. I’m right here.”
A small orb of light illuminates the surface of the black water below. “Here,” Jonas’ voice says from below, calm and confident. His hand extends into the sphere of light and pats the water. “I’m right here, Sarah.”
“Jonas,” I try to say, but my voice doesn’t work. Tears stream down my blood-soaked cheeks.
“My precious baby,” Jonas says softly into my ear. I feel his nose nuzzling against my cheek.
“Jonas,” I breathe, closing my eyes.
Wait. Why the frickity-frack can I hear Jonas in my ear and feel his nose against my cheek when he’s down in the water below? I peer into the abyss beneath me and, yup, his hand protrudes into the orb of light.
“I’m right here,” Jonas whispers softly in my ear again. His hand clasps mine. “Don’t leave me, Sarah. I need you.”
My sweet Jonas needs me? Oh, well, then, that settles it. I take a deep breath, hug my babies to me, and hurl myself off the edge of the waterfall.
I’m instantly sinking into cold blackness. I flail my arms, trying to gain traction, and, as I do, I lose my grip on my babies. I try to scream as they float away from me, but I can’t make a sound. Ink-black water is flooding my mouth and rushing down my throat. But just when I think I’m a goner, strong arms grab me and pull me up, up, up until my face breaks the surface of the water.
“Jonas,” I cry, gasping for air. “The babies!”
I open my eyes. “The babies!” But nothing comes out of my mouth. My voice isn’t working.
I’m in a darkened hospital room. Jonas is seated next to my bed, his strong arms draped across me. His fingers are woven into mine. There are tubes and wires attached to me. Oh God, I’m in so much pain. And, oh my God, Jonas is heart-stoppingly beautiful.
Jonas smiles at me through tears. “Sarah,” he says, overcome with emotion. “Thank God.” He shudders with relief. “I’ve been so worried.”
I clutch my belly. “The babies,” I say—or try to say. I can’t make sound come out of my mouth.
“They’re in the NICU,” Jonas says softly, understanding me despite my absent voice. He strokes my face tenderly. “Two little girls.” He wipes his eyes. “And they look just like you.”
A surge of pure love floods my entire body, but I can’t seem to keep my eyes open. The pain is too great. I’m too tired. I’ve never felt quite this tired before. I’m slipping away. I reach toward Jonas, trying to hold onto him, trying to stay with him in the light—did he just say we have daughters?—but I’m too weak to overcome the darkness.
“Sarah?” Jonas whispers, his voice breaking. “Baby?” He yelps. “Fuck. Sarah? I love you, Sarah. Sarah?” His voice breaks. “Oh, Sarah. Baby. I love you so much. Please