Blessings

CALLUM

Violet seems lost in thought today, more than usual. I suspect it’s because of Matthew. It’s been a full year since that day in the hospital. The day I found out about Tyler’s betrayal.

That day changed everything for me...

The game I played with Zach in the waiting room, I had no idea it would become my reality—falling in love with them.

I was naive to think I didn’t harbor feelings for them. More like I was suppressing those feelings deep within.

I drive to the doctor’s office in silence. Ella had fallen asleep before we even left the private road, and Violet hasn’t said a word.

Not that it’s a problem, of course, it’s okay. Sometimes, silence is the key to a peaceful life.

I park as close to the office as possible and help set up the stroller so we can put Ella in her seat.

It’s a handy thing for both girls, but today we’re using it as a single stroller with the diaper bag next to her seat.

The stroller is versatile and useful, no doubt about that.

“We have an appointment for Violet Stephenson,” I tell the receptionist. She checks us in and surprisingly sends us straight back.

Usually, we have to wait a bit, but I guess a nine o’clock appointment means there’s no waiting time because it’s the first appointment.

So we sit in the doctor’s office, waiting for him to join us in less than five minutes.

“This place always makes me nervous,” I admit to Violet, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, me too. I can’t stand doctor’s offices.”

Ella’s nursing on Violet’s milk again, starting on her right breast this time. You can hear her gulping down every mouthful.

Their breastfeeding journey has been a dream, fortunately.

“Sorry I’m late,” Dr. Cassian bursts into the room with his briefcase in one hand and a coffee in the other. “How are we all?” he asks.

“Great, thank you,” Violet smiles at him.

We let him settle in, watching as he removes his jacket and sets up his computer before finally sitting down in front of us. He glances between us and then smiles before taking a deep breath.

“So it’s a booster of your birth control. Is that correct?” Violet nods, switching Ella to her left breast.

Dr. Cassian smiles warmly toward the two of them, nodding when Ella latches onto Violet as she often does now.

“You’re doing exceptionally well with breastfeeding. You should be proud of yourself, Violet. Not all women your age can feed so efficiently.”

“Thank you, we love it,” she replies, giving me a sly smile.

Yes, we do fucking love it. Ella, Zach, and I.

“Well, when you’re ready, I’ll need a urine sample from you. Have you any concerns?”

“None at all for myself. But I’m still worried about Ella’s development,” Violet replies.

“She’s curious. She observes everyone intently, and she tried papayas the other day after the ninth time of us offering them to her,” I add.

“She’s still very young, and all babies develop at their own pace. I don’t think anything is wrong with her, but I hear Dr Bartlet has put together an action plan. If by nine months she still isn’t trying to say simple words like mama and dada, He wants her to attend speech therapy with one of the girls here. They are excellent at their jobs and make it fun and interactive through play. It may be beneficial for Ella to have that structure to help her learn words, but that will only be a bi-weekly thing and not until she’s over one and we can determine if she is behind.”

“What about autism?” Violet asks as Ella detaches from her left breast, turning to look at the doctor while Violet puts her breasts away, still holding onto Ella.

“Because her biological father has it, she is predisposed to it, but it wouldn’t be until much later in her childhood that he would even assess her for that. Try not to worry yourself, Violet. She is a thriving young lady.”

“I try, but it’s hard not to worry,” she admits as he smiles at her genuinely, passing her a urine cup.

“It’s a mother’s job to worry. I understand, Violet. Now, why don’t you get me that urine sample while Callum and I wait with Ella?” Violet does as she’s asked, leaving the room to go to the restroom down the hall while I undress Ella for her examination.

“How has Violet’s sleep been, her concentration, eating?” Dr. Bartley comes to stand beside me with his tape measure, taking Ella’s length as I ponder.

“She’s been okay, a bit distracted for the last few days, but I think that has more to do with Matthew than Ella,” I explain to him.

“Matthew?”

“Our son. The miscarriage,” I say, shrugging my shoulders.

“Oh yes, is it an anniversary?”

“Yes, it’s been one year tomorrow…since he was born.”

“That explains it then. She seems down. Depressed even.”

“She does?” I hadn’t noticed that. Sure she’s been off but depressed? That’s a bit much.

“Compared to her usual self, yes. But it’s okay. It’s understandable, especially on the first anniversary. But keep an eye and report to her psychiatrist if she’s still withdrawn next week.” Is it really that serious?

“Okay, I’ll mention it to the others too,” he nods, greeting Ella.

She lays still with wide eyes, watching him as she does with everyone.

“She’s growing nicely. I hate to say it in front of Violet, but babyhood quietness can be a sign of autism. We are not allowed to assess autism until much later into their childhood nowadays, but I’m keeping an eye. I’ll make sure she has all the tools to have a successful life whether she gets that diagnosis or not,” he bops Ella on the nose.

“Thanks, doc,” I nod.

Tyler, Zach, and I have been discussing autism.

Tyler was exactly the same as a child, so it’s been a concern of ours. But that doesn’t mean she has it.

She could just be a quiet child. Like Violet. A person who chooses to be silent in certain situations.

Violet walks back into the room then. The cup on a paper towel is in her hand before she places it on the side for Dr. Bartley.

“Oh, good. Take a seat,” he says, standing to put on gloves.

“Have your cycles returned yet?”

“No, I haven’t bled since I gave birth.”

“That’s very normal, especially because you are breastfeeding,” he dips a little white stick in the pee watching it as he places it down on the side.

“How have you been feeling lately, Violet?”

“I’ve been fine. My breasts have been a little sore since Ella dropped a couple of feeds. So I’ve been pumping to ease the pain, and I’ve been having a few headaches…but I think that’s because I’m overthinking things again.” When she says pumping, it’s often Zach or I or both of us drinking from her.

“Hmm, it could be,” he says, grinning down at the little stick.

Violet hasn’t even looked back that way. What is he grinning at?

“I’m afraid I can’t give you the birth control shot today.”

“Oh! Do I need to rebook?” Violet asks, turning to him.

“I need you to book an appointment but not for birth control, dear. Come?” he beckons her to the counter.

“You’re pregnant, Violet,” he states as she looks down at the same little strip he’s staring at.

Pregnant.

Pregnant.

She’s? We are?

I stand walking over to the counter with Ella in my arms, looking down at a small white strip that has two very pink bold lines on it.

“I’m having another baby?” Violet asks, looking at the doctor wide-eyed.

“So it seems. Let me just pop next door to see if the ultrasound machine is free. We will have a look and see how far along you are,” Violet nods while reaching for the strip on the side to bring it up in front of the both of us.

“I’m pregnant?!” she asks or says. I’m not quite sure.

“I thought the birth control shot was supposed to prevent this?” I laugh, though I don’t think I’m unhappy. Not at all.

In fact, I want to fist bump Zach because it can only be one of ours. I’m excited, happy, ecstatic.

“We have fifteen minutes. Follow me, guys?” Dr. Bartley calls from the door. Violet places the strip down, following immediately, and I do too with the biggest fucking grin on my face that I think I’ve ever had.

Will it be a boy or a girl?

And whose will it be, mine or Zach’s?

Dr. Cassian has Violet remove her thong before having her lay on the small table.

“Would it be okay if I did an internal scan? It might give us a more accurate picture, especially since we don’t have a previous menstrual cycle to reference.” Violet gives a silent nod, draping the sheet over her lower body. I observe as he covers a long wand with a condom, then asks Violet to part her legs.

She complies, almost as if she’s been through this before. Perhaps she has.

He gently inserts the wand inside her, and the monitor in front of him springs to life, displaying a mix of grays, whites, and blacks. It’s reminiscent of when we had the scan with Ella, except this time, there’s no discernible face or leg on the screen.

It takes him a moment or two to maneuver the wand inside her to get a clear image, but eventually, he does.

What we see is a large black bubble with two tiny babies moving around each other, almost as if they’re floating.

“Well, you’re definitely pregnant,” the doctor chuckles, glancing at both of us before adding, “with twins.” He points to one of the tiny babies and then the other.

“Twins,” Violet echoes, disbelief coloring her voice. “Wow.”

“You can say that again,” I mutter, moving closer. “Can we get a picture?” I ask.

I can’t help but think that Tyler and Zach should be here to witness this.

They should be here!

I reach for my phone, unlocking it just as Violet grabs my arm.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling Tyler and Zach?” Her eyes widen, and she shakes her head.

“No, let’s surprise them,” she suggests, shrugging and turning her attention back to the screen.

“Would you like me to print some images for you all?” he asks. He prints a few and hands them to me. I accept them eagerly.

We never had scan pictures of Ella when she was this small.

The babies both have bodies and heads, but their arms and legs are not visible, unlike on the screen. They’re cozied up together in that dark little cocoon.

Two tiny, perfect miracles.

Our miracles.

Goodness, four children under the age of two?

“Ready for some measurements?” Violet gives a nod, her gaze fixed on the screen, eyes brimming with tears.

Dr. Cassian takes a measurement from one baby’s head to its tiny bottom, a white line materializing on the screen.

“Baby A is measuring at ten weeks and four days,” he declares, then proceeds to measure the other baby in the same manner. “Baby B is measuring at ten weeks and five days. This means your babies are due between December twenty-sixth and twenty-seventh. However, being twins, they might make their entrance a bit earlier.” He remarks as the sound of one baby’s heartbeat resonates from the machine. He measures that as well.

“Baby B’s heart rate is one hundred sixty-seven, and Baby A’s is,” he measures the second heartbeat, a smile tugging at his lips, “one hundred sixty-one. They seem quite comfortable in there. Congratulations, you two.”

“Babies in December? Incredible. Can you believe it, Violet?” I can’t wipe the grin off my face, but she’s just gazing at the screen, tears cascading down her cheeks.