Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 69170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
I did tell him that I was going to make sure to be a better Dad to his kids than he was before turning off my phone, which I knew would burn his ass. Actually, that was fun. I’ll have to remember to do it more often; at least, that would keep him the hell away from my wife.
She has no idea why I rushed to get married. It had nothing to do with her being pregnant. I wanted to do it sooner because husband has more power than boyfriend or even fiancé. Now that jackass can’t pull that husband card out his ass.
JOLENE
“Do you know what superfetation is?” We were sitting in the doctor’s office, stunned after the ultrasound. We both had a grip on each other’s hands, and I’m not sure either of us had breathed in the last ten minutes, but for different reasons. “Are you saying there’s more?” My voice came out in a squeak.
“Um, this is very rare. Are you sure you didn’t have IVF or take some kind of pregnancy hormone or anything like that?” Look at it; even she’s nervous as hell.
“No, I started perimenopause. Could that have anything to do with it?”
“Um, okay, let’s backtrack. We know there are six, but there’s something else.”
“Yeah, this superfetation thing, but what is it?”
“It’s when you get pregnant twice, at two separate times. There are very few cases of this in the world, and they’re usually found in artificial insemination; I’ve never heard of either of these cases happening naturally.”
“Doc, save all your scientific mumbo jumbo for your research papers; just tell me, are my kids okay?” Those were the first words Damon had spoken since we sat in these chairs.
“Yes, they’re all healthy, heartbeats are fine, measurements are in line with what we have.” I looked down at the little black-and-white image in my hand and down at my stomach. No wonder I’m shaped like a suppository capsule.
I was looking at that image in wonder when she went and said the wrong fricking thing. “I think we should put you on bed rest until you give birth.”
“I don’t feel ill.”
“She’ll be on bed rest, so don’t worry.” I just side-eyed him and wished I could jump the desk and cover her damn mouth because she just kept going and going.
Lady, do you have any idea what you’ve just subjected me to? I’m barely allowed to move around the room as it is. I put my foot down when we got back to the car, and there were more pillows back there.
“I’m not laying down.”
“No, those are to cushion you from any bumps in the road. Why are you mad at me?”
“This is all your fault, you and your womb fucks. Don’t think I can’t see you trying not to laugh; this is not funny.”
The doctor explained the superfetation nonsense as getting pregnant a month apart. One embryo attached to the uterine wall one month, and the next, for some reason, another occurred but not only that, both attachments were carrying three each.
“You know what number I played, right?”
“No, I never watched your stupid games.” I did after we met. I went back and looked at highlights on YouTube, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Number seven, that means we need one more.” I wonder where he planned on getting that one from.
I didn’t speak to him all the way home; I needed support, so I texted Sheila to get her ass to the house now. The kids were going to be home this weekend as well, but that was still a few days away.
That idiot doctor wanted to make me a test study, but thankfully, Damon shut that down and threatened her with a lawsuit if she even thought of sharing my medical history without my approval.
The poor woman was so excited she was all but jumping out of her skin, but he was right, I needed time to get used to this idea myself. I was still looking at the picture, trying to see where the mistake was, but there was no mistake.
I think Damon’s feet didn’t touch the ground once since we left the doctor’s office. He had his own image, and before we even got to the house, he was on the phone scanning and sending it to his parents.
His Mom called me right away, and I broke down in tears, which made him have all kinds of fits because he thought something was wrong with me. “Nothing’s wrong, Damon. I’m just feeling a bit overwhelmed.”
“Aren’t you happy?”
“Of course, I’m happy; it’s just a lot to take in. How am I gonna raise six babies at once?”
“Is that all? We’ll hire all the help you need, and I’ll be there. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”
In my experience, men always say that shit, but when it comes time to change diapers, they are nowhere to be found. That shit is annoying with one kid, let alone six.