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I lay in bed, completely shocked and horrified beyond belief. How could this happen to me? Or how had this happened to me? Damn it, what would I tell Al? I was trying to find the words to tell him when he and Chance barged in. I guess the nurses had found them.
“What did they say?” Big Al demanded, lunging for the bed and gripping my hand tightly. I looked at him, opened my mouth, shut it and then tried again.
“Crap, Tati, how bad is it?” Chance asked, taking my other side.
“I don’t know. Is it bad?” I asked, and then a sob escaped me. Within mere moments I was in floods of tears as the two hulking brutes who’d cheerfully take a bullet for me froze, unsure what to do. The door opened, and a nurse and doctor entered.
“What’s wrong with her?” Big Al demanded, as his hand nearly crushed mine.
“Honey, hurting,” I gasped as I tried to regain control.
Big Al let go of my hand with a noise of apology.
“Nothing. Well, I’m not sure how to explain this or how it happened,” the doctor said, looking confused.
“Try simple words,” Big Al growled.
“Your wife is sixteen weeks pregnant,” the doctor dropped the bombshell. Big Al’s legs caved from under him, and he sat heavily in the chair.
“Say what?” Chance exclaimed.
“From what we understand, Tati miscarried a baby, which caused the car crash. That child spontaneously miscarried, and we believe it wasn’t a viable foetus. Often if something is wrong, they will take care of themselves, which is what we believe happened with the miscarriage. Luckily for you, you had that incompetent buffoon do your D&C. He missed the sac containing the other children, allowing them to survive the operation. They also survived the trauma your body went through. While it’s exceedingly rare, you can get pregnant while already being pregnant. It’s called Superfetation, incredibly rare, but it is known,” the expert said, giving them the explanation he’d given me ten minutes ago.
Chance glared at Big Al, who was staring open-mouthed at the doctor.
“Children?” Chance asked for Big Al.
“Twins, healthy from what we can see. Baby A is slightly bigger than baby B, but that’s usually the way. We believe the miscarriage was a triplet. But the twins you’re carrying are identical.”
“I’m forty. Will they be okay?” I demanded.
“Yes, we’re running your blood tests, but so far, everything looks perfect,” the nurse said.
“Tati’s pain?” Chance sought, and I blushed.
The doctor chuckled.
“Tati needs to stay away from spicy food. The children don’t like it.”
“You had indigestion?” Chance asked me incredulously.
“I didn’t know!” I retorted.
A slow grin was spreading across Chance’s face.
“Fuck me, brother, most men your age are becoming grandfathers. No, you must buck the trend and become a first-time father!” Chance teased.
Big Al’s eyes rolled up to my horror, and he slid to the floor in a heap.
“Now look what you’ve done!” I yelled at Chance as the doctor rushed forward.
“Eh, I’ll be telling your kids that for years to come. Their pop was so frail; he passed out when hearing about them!” Chance cackled.
I threw a pillow at him. Holy shit, twenty-five years, no children, and now, bang, twins. I closed my eyes and thanked God for the gift he’d given us. We’d started this year with no children, we were in the process of adopting three babies whose mother had tried to burn them alive. Poor darlings. And now we had two of our own to love as well. Holy Hell, I was going to be a mother of five! Instant family!
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