Of Ginger & Spice

HM2V: Push Present

47: HM2V: Push Present

5 pm, Five Weeks Later, Madalena Village, Azores, Epicenter Pico No. 23

"Overnight bag?" asked Macy, reading through her "childbirth go-bag checklist."

"Check."

"Hospital paperwork, ID, insurance card?"

"Check."

"Though I might add," Macy remarked offhandedly, "that childbirth is free in Portugal, and we just gotta bring the Boletim de Saúde da Grávida with us when we check in. But I always believe in being prepared, y'know. Just in case."

"Roger that." Harry reached over and gave Macy's expansive tummy a soft rub for luck.

"Fuzzy slippers and bathrobe?"

"Check and check."

"Massage oil? Ear plugs? Lip balm? Fuzzy socks?"

"Check to all of the above."

"I think we're set then," Macy finally unpeeled her eyes from the checklist.

"Just a minute—" Harry said. "I have a little something for you. Close your eyes." He reached in his pocket for a small flat black velvet jewelry box.

"Oh Harry, you shouldn't have..." murmured Macy, her eyes still closed as he clasped the necklace around her swan-like neck.

"Open your eyes."

Macy did so slowly, peering at her reflection using her cell phone camera. "Harry," she gasped aloud. "It's beautiful—how did you—and what is it?" Her fingers touched the three beads on the sterling silver necklace.

"Three beads each symbolizing each of our children, present and future," Harry said simply. "The pony with the gemstone eye represents Maya and her potential path as leader and future attorney (if Abigael has anything to say about it). The feather quill charm with its gem represents our future son Henry, who might potentially be of a philosopher sort (only time will tell). Finally, last but not least, is the tiny flame with the gemstone in its middle, representing Matilda, the one who may have a potential affinity for fire."

"Maya, Henry, and Matilda" Macy murmured to herself. It slowly dawned on her that last week, she had been a parent to one daughter, and at the end of this week, she would suddenly find herself the mother of two girls and a boy. They had decided on British-sounding names this time around, as they had planned to alternate as each child was born. Maya's name was borrowed from that of Maya Angelou, the pen name of one of Macy's favorite African American female writers. Harry had been partial to the name "Henry," which meant "ruler of the home"—a most strong-sounding, yet altogether sweet, moniker. "Matilda" was derived from German and meant "battle-mighty," which Macy and Harry agreed sounded appropriate for a baby destined to be one with fire. They kept to the tradition of girl names beginning with the letter "M" and Henry's name began with the letter "H," a silent homage to his father Harry.

"I'll orb Maya to Mel's for the planned two-day sleepover," Harry shifted the topic of conversation. "She'll have so much fun with Abigael, Mel, and Tory, and it'll be fun introducing them to two new little ones once all this comes together."

"Agreed," Macy replied, already exhausted from having carried twice the normal weight of enceinte. She reached for her phone. Mel, Harry's dropping Maya off STAT.

Got it, the reply came near-instantaneously with a ping.

Harry proceeded upstairs to gather Maya in his arms along with her sleepover bag, departing with a telltale pop.

6:10 pm, Madalena Village, Azores, Epicenter Pico No. 23

Macy paced around the condo. What was taking Harry so long to return? She'd already called Morgana, who was waiting for them at the hospital, luckily minutes from their home—one of the perks of living on a tiny island.

Pop. Macy whirled around. Harry. "Hurry up, Morgana's waiting for us at the hospital! Scheduled C-sections are nothing to sniff at—"

Harry spent the next seconds catching his breath. "My sincerest apologies, love," he said, kissing the top of her forehead. "Maya was having a mini-meltdown at the very last minute before I left. I had to calm her down and assuage her she's still Daddy's little princess."

Macy frowned. "Is she alright?"

"Now that she's parked in front of the telly watching two Disney movies about a couple of Swedish princesses and an animatronic snowman, I believe so. Though the last ten minutes were a tad touch and go. Honestly, I think it was exhaustion coupled with a sudden change in routine, more than anything else."

"Ok." Macy regarded her hospital bag, the living room couch, the kitchen, the door to the spiral staircase leading to the three bedrooms above. The twins' rooms were fully ready for its young inhabitants, crib, décor, and all. Enough meals had been prepped and frozen in advance of the twins' delivery, and Maya was in the loving hands of her aunts and cousin Tory. "Let's do this," she whispered as Harry offered her his arm, hospital bag in hand, as they proceeded to orb to the local hospital.

7 pm, Azores, Ponta Delgada Hospital, Department of Neonatology, Surgical Room

Macy gasped aloud. An icy sensation hit Macy's insides, causing an instantaneous bodily chill spreading throughout her abdominal region, upon the anesthesiologist's injection into her spine with regional anesthesia, a surgical blanket covering her in the barest attempt at modesty. She recalled disrobing into a surgical paper gown fifteen minutes earlier, her bare legs hanging over the table ever-so-slightly, as though for a second, this were nothing more than a run-of-the-mill annual doctor's visit. But she knew better. Clutching Harry's hand tightly, she willed herself to stay strong—to not cry—as she heard the surgeons' blades making punctuated incisions onto her bare, rotund skin. The anesthesiologist had done his job quite well; Macy felt a set of peculiar pushing and pulling sensations, imagining the surgeons to be shifting her stomach and other organs around. 'Hey Todd, hand me a kidney, will ya?' she imagined them saying in jest. Or not—she wasn't entirely sure at this point. She ought to have been, considering she took human biology and anatomy early in her college career. Though she hadn't received the best marks in her class, she had nevertheless excelled on her own merit. Her thoughts raced despite her repeated attempts at slow, soothing breaths.

It was too quiet.

Perhaps the surgeons hadn't fully finished yet? She noticed that Harry, intrigued by the laborious, longstanding, abdominal efforts, had curiously peered under the covers and immediately paled. She could tell he regretted looking, and Macy couldn't help but stifle a laugh despite the fact her insides were likely taking a thorough pummeling. She knew the aftereffects of stretched muscular tissue and shorn ligaments would make themselves known in the weeks to follow. Macy always thought that childbirth involved a baby exiting the birth canal amidst a maternal wave of pain, followed by tears and gentle caresses. She never once imagined being put under the knife. From all she learned of her human biology and anatomy course and various online mommy blogs, did this count as 'childbirth' per se?

It was then her brain's literary prowess recalled a quote from Shakespeare's Macbeth. "Despair thy harm!...Macduff was from his mother's womb untimely ripped." Act five, scene eight, lines 17-20 if she wasn't mistaken. Childbirth, she now understood, came in a sheer variety of forms, of which mothers reigned supreme in their maternal power. Goddesses all around. Maybe this explained the millennial proliferation of push presents.

Macy's thoughts were interrupted as the surgical team, under Morgana's supervision, exercised heightened efforts toward Macy's insides, orchestrating a final pushing and pulling, until two bawling infants could be heard in the background, with the barest hint of a fiery set of orange sparks which went unnoticed by everyone except Macy, Harry, and Morgana.

The newborns were promptly weighed, cleaned up, placed in hospital blankets, and given to Macy and Harry to hold. The boy, Henry, was already asleep, quiet and contemplative. Matilda continued to squirm and fuss, as her fingers grasped Harry's own.

"Welcome to the world, Henry Thomas and Matilda Marcella Valensi. Welcome little ones," Harry murmured through his tears, repeatedly kissing his wife Macy. "Wonderful job, love."