Lynnette woke me up early Friday morning. I was three-quarters asleep so all I really knew for sure was that it was still dark outside when she shook me awake. I heard her say some combination of the words “woke up,” “bathroom,” and “water broke.” I tried to say something or something like that, but I fell back asleep. She didn’t wake me up again. I woke up by myself because a voice inside my head shouted “You’re doing it (not being clutch in a childbirth situation) again!” I shot up and asked her if what I heard was correct. She said it was. I would later ask her how much time passed between her initial revelation and my resurrection from slumber. “What, like 10-15 minutes?” I asked. “No. Like an hour,” she said. Just shameful.
We came up with a plan. Lynnette would stay home from work and schedule an appointment with her doctor. I would go to work as usual and be ready to leave if things headed south. Lynnette’s doctor didn’t make it in when his office opened so she was directed to the hospital. I left work and picked her up. According to Lynnette, the order of events was playing out exactly like the night her water broke with Madison. Except we didn’t order pizza. But I did stop at McDonald’s on the way out to the hospital because I know how these things work. There are tests, monitors, and waiting for results that all add up to hours sitting in a room. I somehow had the foresight to pack my phone charger, a change of clothes, some toiletries, but not the 3DS and Pokemon. Act like you’ve been here before, Phil.
First, we were glad to hear that the twins were alright. I hate uncertainty, and this entire scenario is the height of uncertainty. Are the kids OK? Did Lynnette’s water break? What does that print out mean? How long is this going to take? Does the TV in the hospital room get ESPN? For our entire relationship, Lynnette and I have switched into and out of the roles of the panicker and the pacifier. If we’re at Disney Land? Lynnette panics and I am calm. If one of us is going to shoot mini-humans out of their body? I lose my mind and Lynnette is a cool field general. As I sat there in the hospital room all I could think was that if they twins were to show up, they’d be two months early and they’d have to stay in the hospital for a while. I wasn’t ready for any of that. In some ways, this whole “having twins” thing still isn’t real. I know it’s going to happen, but my mind cannot image what the day-in, day-out implications of that change means, so I haven’t imagined it in the way that I normally do when anticipating a great life change. I’m stoked and scared for the future everyday, it just depends on what I’m thinking about specifically. Right now – and more specifically Friday – is a holding pattern. I don’t do well in holding patterns.
The staff ran tests and monitored the kids. They were fine. The staff was also able to determine that while Lynnette’s water had not broken, she’s basically having contractions constantly. It’s something we’re going to have to manage. Lynnette’s basically been put on the most conservative offensive game plan this side of the Minnesota Vikings. Before we were discharged our attending nurse went over the list of things Lynnette is not allowed to do, and without going into the finer and lesser details, it’s basically all the fun stuff. “So begins the great Ice Age,” I said. It’s possible I was being a little dramatic. I may have also intended the statement to be a self-pitying guilt trip. “Shoots, then,” Lynnette said. “Let’s roll the dice, you want to induce early pregnancy, that’s cool with me. I’m so ready to take my leave, how about you?” she continued. “B-aaaahhhhh,” I said. I was flustered. She sent an all-out blitz and I couldn’t even throw the ball away. Shrewd move, wife. Ice Age it is.
The whole ordeal shook Lynnette and me up a little. We did a lot of cleaning and organizing this weekend. The twins’ room is nearly ready to rock and we’ve washed a lot of their laundry just in case they decide to ignore Lynnette’s ethnic coding and show up early. The best case scenario would see the kids going as near to term as possible. Well, hope for the best and… you know.