Page 105 of Unexpecting

″Thanks,” I told her.

Two days ago, J.B. and I got married. Yes, married! I’d still be over the moon with excitement if I could go longer than forty-five minutes without having to pee. Yes, I timed myself.

My wedding was a quiet ceremony, held in J.B. and Cooper’s new restaurant which opened on New Year’s Eve. I didn’t like them closing for an entire Saturday, but Coop insisted. So the wedding—my wedding. When I married J.B. With a handful of guests looking on, I became Mrs. Jeremy Bergen. Actually, just Casey Bergen, since I hate the whole Mrs. So-and-So stuff. It sounds so 1950ish. But I’m still married. Married to J.B.

Libby was my matron of honour, and Maddy was both flower girl and ring bearer because Max can only take a few toddling steps before falling. Coop stood up for J.B. Brit was there—alone, because Tom had filed for divorce. She stood with Morgan and Derek, who looked very happy together. Mom and Eric were there (she thankfully has given up any wild idea about having another baby). Emma was there, looking fondly at Coop in his suit. I could tell her head was filled with ideas for her wedding in July. There were a few other friends of mine there. David and Marco werein town spending the holidays with David’s family, and I invited Darcy and Ethan, whose wedding I was in—remember? That was how this whole thing started. I thought it was only fitting they come. J.B. invited some of his friends, but thankfully no ex-girlfriends. Everyone seemed nice, once they got over the surprise of J.B. getting married and having a baby all at once. Having three babies.

J.B.‘s mom was there, with his sisters Carrie and Beth and her husband Dennis. They lived in Vancouver. J.B.’s dad and Alec, Carrie’s husband, had to stay in Paris Flats to mind the farm. They didn’t actually say “mind the farm,” but it sounded like something they would say. Mrs. Bergen was planning on coming back when the babies were born to help out. I wondered if I’d ever be able to call her Gerta now that I was a Mrs. Bergen as well. She said I was to call her Mom, but I haven’t been able to do that yet. I didn’t really call her anything at all yet. It might be interesting getting help with diapers from a woman I barely know, but she’s more qualified to help than my mother is. My mother kept buying wildly unsuitable baby clothes, without even knowing what we were having.

So J.B. and I got married. It was a nice ceremony, lots of flowers and good food, which I barely ate because there is no longer any room for my stomach to expand, and lots of wine and champagne, which I was permitted a lowly glass of. When these kids pop out, I told J.B., I want a bottle of Dom Perignon all for myself. I can have it, since I’m not planning on breastfeeding. While in theory breastfeeding sounds wonderful, the state of Libby’s nipples (cracked and bleeding) after Maddy got through with her, and even the sight of her formerly perky breasts after two kids turned me right off. Plus, I’m having triplets, and while I might convince myself I will be an okay mother, I was well aware I was no supermom and couldn’t imagine trying to nurse two babies at once like some pictures I had seen.

It was hard to hide my excitement with Brit, which I tried to do since Tom left her three weeks ago. Turns out she did more than talk about Tom’s boss, and Tom found out about it. She tried to put on a good front, but I knew she was miserable without him. I guess she really did love him, only it was too little too late.

″I thought you didn’t want to get married,” Brit accused when I met her and Morgan later the night after my doctor’s visit for dinner. I tried to feel sympathetic towards Brit but she made it difficult at times.

″I didn’t know I did,” I admitted, going pink in the face.

″You didn’t know you wanted to marry J.B.,” Morgan explained with a smile. “I knew you were in love with him.” Morgan was very happy forme. I think a lot of that has to do with the fact her and Derek were happy together

By the time I got home, I had a headache from trying to cheer up Brit and a wicked backache from the uncomfortable chairs we had to sit on at the restaurant. It wasn’t uncommon for me these days—the backache, not the uncomfortable chairs. My back was hurting so much that the almost twenty-five minutes I spent driving home was almost unbearable.

″How did it go at the doctor’s earlier?” Emma asked as I waddled into the kitchen. There was no other word but waddle to describe my lumbering, thoroughly ungraceful walk. I was absolutely huge, and I still had five more weeks to go. I could only pray I’d deliver early. I pulled open the refrigerator and looked longingly at the chilled bottle of white wine, and grabbed a bottle of water instead.

″Oh, that.” My mind was still on Brit’s sorry state. “I have to go once a week now to see that horrible woman.” I leaned my hand on the fridge and drank deeply from the bottle. “I think she might be growing on me, other than the fact she’s still telling me to plan on having a C-section. I told her—”

″Did you spill your water?” Emma interrupted in a strange voice. I looked down to see a small puddle forming at my feet. “Or not go to the bathroom when you should have?”

″No.” I stared at the puddle intently. ”No. Do you think—? Well, holy shit! And I was just at the bloody doctor’s, who didn’t have a clue I was going into labour! Did you miss some key points in your training there, Dr. Morrissey?” I cried. “Stupid cow!”

″Does this mean you’re in labour?” Emma all but whispered.

″Guess so.” I finished the bottle of water in a few gulps while Emma stood staring at me. “I’m going to go clean myself up.”

″Shouldn’t you, shouldn’t you go to the hospital?″ she cried. “You’re having the babies!”

″Not right now,” I smiled indulgently at her. “The classes said it can take a while, and I haven’t even had a contraction yet. I think there’s a bit of time.” I knocked on my belly. “Hello, guys. I was just at the hospital. Couldn’t you have started a bit sooner? Then I would have missed miserable Brit.”

″Casey,” Emma said in a strangled voice. “You’re having the babies!”

″I am.” I could see my joy mirrored on Emma’s face, hear it in her voice, and it made my heart sing. “I’m going to be a mother!”

″It’s what you always wanted.” She gave me a tearful hug, being careful not to squeeze too tightly.

″I’m going to be a mom,” I said, beginning to be a little tearful myself. “I have to call J.B.”

″He won’t want to miss this.”

″I hope it doesn’t take too long,” I mused.

But it did. By the time my contractions started in earnest three hours later, I was safely ensconced in a narrow bed in the triage department of the hospital, with a dreaded IV stuck in my arm. J.B. was with me—unable to sit still, he’d taken to hovering by my bed, asking inane questions. It started out oddly endearing, but I could see it getting old real fast. Cooper and Emma were sent up to the waiting room outside the delivery room to wait for Libby. I’d talked to both Morgan and Brit, who wanted to come, but I told them not to since it could take all night. I knew they were waiting impatiently by the phone. Surprisingly, I was the calmest one in the bunch, a fact Emma made note of several times.

The doctor between my legs stood up. And you wouldn’t believe who it was!

″No offence, but could I maybe get another doctor?” I asked with a smile. It was Adam, the cute subway guy that I kept bumping into. I knew he said he was a doctor, but I never imagined he was a doctor working at the hospital I was giving birth in, let alone being the attending in triage when I went into labour. It was scary the way he kept popping up into my life. “It’s sort of weird now, considering you have your hands up my who-who.”

″Sorry,” Adam told me, stripping off his latex gloves. “Duty calls.”

″She’s going to have the babies, then?” a clearly nervous J.B. asked.

---