Two years ago…
Elizabeth
Pregnancy is doing a number on me. These past five months feel like five long years. Honestly, if I could hand this cross to someone else to carry for just two days, I'd gladly do it. I can't wait for the moment I finally hold my baby in my arms—the thought alone keeps me going through all the exhaustion, the weight, and the endless stress.
Most days, I'm nauseous. The tiniest things irritate me—smells, colors, even the sound of water dripping can set me off. My mind feels foggy, my work suffers, and sometimes even drinking a glass of water feels like climbing a mountain. I keep asking Bianca if she's going through the same thing, but she swears she's fine. Somehow, she seems way too comfortable compared to me.
Then again, her belly isn't as enormous as mine. Mine feels… mighty. Sometimes Adira just stares at me with those worried eyes, as if she expects me to go into labor any second. The way I complain about contractions and cramps, I can't even blame her.
My old clothes? Forget them. They don't even look at me anymore. I live in maternity dresses now. And the appetite—God, I eat like there's no tomorrow, then worry I might just burst open. When I FaceTimed my mom a few days ago, she told me pregnancy looks good on me. I still don't understand what she saw, because to me it feels like my belly will explode any second.
That morning, I sat in the hospital reception with Adira beside me. She insisted on carrying my maternity bag—has been doing it since my belly became "scary huge," as she calls it. She's convinced I'll go into labor before the due date, so she never lets me go anywhere without being prepared.
We sat there, waiting for my OB-GYN to call me in, when the mood swings crept in again. Out of nowhere, my thoughts shifted, heavy and unsettling.
"You two talked two nights ago. Still not satisfied?" Adira noticed the change in me instantly. She set the bag down and scooted closer.
I bit down on my lip, trying to hold back the tears burning behind my eyes. She was right—it had only been two days since I heard his voice.
"That was two days ago," I whispered, barely recognizing my own voice.
Adira exhaled deeply and pulled me against her. My head rested on her shoulder as she whispered, "It's okay. I know how much you miss him. He misses you too. Just be patient. It won't be long before he's back in your arms."
I closed my eyes, letting Adira's words sink in as freely as they could. She truly is a good woman—more than a mother-in-law in the making. She has been by my side, steady and tender, treating me like her own daughter. These past few months would have been unbearable without her, and I silently thanked God for her company.
After a while, I gently pulled away. "Auntie—"
"Mmm-hmm." She cut me off with a small shake of her head, her tone warm but firm. "It's Mom. I told you before—always call me Mom. You'll be my daughter-in-law soon enough, so start getting used to it."
I smiled faintly, though the title still felt foreign on my tongue. Mom. I hoped I'd get used to it quickly. "Okay… Mom."
Her face lit up with a sweet smile, and for a second it eased the heaviness I carried. Then the thirst came crashing back. "Can I have some water? I'm so thirsty."
"Oh, yes, of course." She rummaged through the maternity bag, her brows knitting as she dug deeper. "Ugh, did I forget to pack water?" With a small huff, she stood. "Just a minute, my dear, I'll go get—"
"Serena?"
We both turned at the sound of the familiar voice. Standing there, hands tucked neatly in her coat pockets, was Benita—my one-time high school classmate and now my OB-GYN.
Meeting her again here in Poland felt like fate. She'd built a good life—married, two children, a thriving career. Her smile hadn't changed since our school days: warm, genuine, always inviting. No wonder she'd been my closest friend back then.
"You can come in now," Benita said, her voice laced with that same easy cheerfulness.
"Okay." I tried pushing myself to my feet, but before I could steady my body, both women were already at my side, eager to help. Their hands reached for me at once, and I couldn't help but groan inwardly.
God, how I hate this helplessness. Even standing on my own feels like a battle. This pregnancy has robbed me of so much strength—it's as if I'm a stranger in my own body.
"Thank you," I murmured to them both, my gaze inevitably dropping to my heavy, rounded stomach.
Adira slipped out to fetch water, though she hurried back soon after. She hates missing a single moment of my checkups, as though every detail matters. And truthfully, it does.
I gulped half the bottle down in one go, the relief almost too good to describe. That simple act revealed just how thirsty I'd really been.
Benita helped me ease onto the bed, her movements professional yet gentle. For a fleeting second, I felt comforted. Still, even with Adira here, my heart longed for one other presence—his. The emptiness of that absence pressed harder in moments like this.
We were about to begin when something drew Benita's attention outside. She excused herself, leaving me alone with Adira once again.
Adira's hand never left my arm, her touch steady and soothing as she whispered reassurances. It'll be okay. Just a matter of time.
Then, suddenly, she gasped. Her eyes widened as she glanced at something behind me. "My dear… you have a guest."
Too drained to even lift my head, I muttered, "Benita's back?"
But Adira shook her head, her face lighting up with a smile so bright it was almost suspicious. There was a flicker of excitement in her eyes I couldn't quite place.
"He's here," she whispered into my ear.
My heart stuttered. "He's… here—?" The words tangled in my throat as I turned and froze.
Sebastian.
He stood by the entrance, smiling faintly, his hand raised in a small wave. For a moment I couldn't move. Happiness, shock, and relief all crashed into me at once, leaving me speechless.
But he looked different. Almost unrecognizable. Leaner, weary, a little haggard. Stubble darkened his jaw, giving him an edge of rugged maturity—as if the role of family man had arrived sooner than either of us expected. My gaze lingered on his hair, grown long and unkempt, brushing his shoulders. Has Japan really been so demanding he couldn't even take care of himself?
I caught myself comparing him to me. My own hair had grown back to its former length too, tied low in a bun to keep it out of my face. Maybe we'd both been living in our own kinds of survival mode.
Still, despite the tiredness etched on him, he looked heartbreakingly beautiful in black slacks and a Louis Vuitton plaid shirt. My chest ached with the urge to run to him, to smother him with all the kisses I'd stored up over the past five months. But the weight of my swollen belly pinned me down, mocking me. This gift, this load—I love it, but right now it's the only thing keeping me from throwing myself into his arms.
"Can I come in?" His deep voice broke through the silence.
My lips parted, but no words came. Adira answered for me, rushing toward him. "Oh, come here, you," she said, pulling him into a fierce hug. She kissed his cheeks like she'd been starved of him. "My dear boy, you have no idea how much we've missed you. Just look at you—you're malnourished, stressed…"
She clung to him, unwilling to let go. He looked over her shoulder and mouthed a quiet hi in my direction. That simple word, unspoken yet clear, sent my grin stretching wide and ridiculous—I must have looked like a lovesick fool.
At last, Adira released him with a chuckle, glancing between us knowingly. "Forgive me, I was stealing your fiancé. You two need all the time in the world." Then to Sebastian, she added, "Her OB-GYN will be here any moment. Stay with her."
He nodded, and with a soft smile, Adira slipped out, gently closing the door behind her.
"Hi." My cheeks bloomed red as he walked toward me.
Instead of replying, he closed the distance and kissed me—deeply, passionately—the very thing I had been aching for all these months. My heart leapt as if it had been waiting for this exact moment, and I melted into him.
We didn't stop until I was breathless, forced to pull back for air. For a long moment we just stared at each other, like strangers rediscovering something precious.
Then, to my surprise, Sebastian leaned down and pressed his lips against my swollen belly. "God… your belly has grown so big." His hands moved over the curve, caressing it gently. A tingling warmth rushed through me, and I bit my lip to keep from trembling.
Finally, he looked up at me, a smile breaking across his face. "How are you doing?"
"Fin—oww!" I gasped lightly as a small kick jolted me, sending me into laughter. Sebastian, however, stiffened in alarm.
"Are you okay?" His eyes widened, worry flashing across his face.
I only smiled, glancing down at my belly. Speaking to it softly, I teased, "Intelligent baby… you noticed Daddy's presence, didn't you?"
Sebastian frowned in confusion until I reached for his hands and guided them onto my bump. "It's kicking," I explained.
"Kicking?" he echoed, as though it was a foreign word, his gaze flicking between me and my stomach in disbelief.
"Yes." My smile widened as I covered his hands with mine. "Wait… you'll feel it."
Almost as if on cue, another kick nudged against his palm. His eyes flew wide, pure shock and awe lighting his face.
"I—I think I just felt something… hitting," he stammered, voice thick with wonder. And then, slowly, his expression softened, and I saw it—the spark of fatherhood blooming in his eyes. His lashes trembled with unshed tears.
"It wasn't something." I chuckled, brushing my thumb across his hand. "It's our baby. He just gave you his warmest welcome after five months of waiting."
Sebastian lowered himself, squatting down to kiss my belly again. His voice was low, almost reverent. "Hi, little one. Daddy's here now. And I promise you—I'm not going anywhere this time."
The sight made me giggle, joy bubbling inside me at the tender communion between father and child.
"I can't wait to see him," he whispered, lifting his gaze back to mine. "I want to hold him in my arms."
My fingers traced along his cheek, down to the rough stubble of his jaw. "Soon. Very soon. We just have to be patient."
"Sorry I took so long—"
The voice cut through the quiet moment, and we both looked up. Benita had entered, her words faltering when her eyes fell on Sebastian instead of Adira. She blinked, squinting as though she couldn't believe it.
"Sebastian?"
My brows furrowed just as Sebastian stood, smiling in recognition. "Benita?" He stepped forward and hugged her, and she gladly returned it. "It's so good to see you."
"You two know each other?" I asked, baffled, trying to connect dots I didn't even realize existed.
They exchanged a quick, cheerful glance before answering in unison, "Yes."
The excitement on Seb's face was almost too obvious, and I couldn't help but wonder who exactly Benita is to him.
Seb placed his hand lightly at the small of her back. "Honey, Benita is my friend Matt's wife."
My mouth formed a silent O. Before I could respond, Benita's eyes flicked to the ring on my finger. "Honey? Serena, you didn't tell me Sebastian was your husband—and how did I end up missing your wedding?"
I chuckled at her assumption. "We're not married yet. But we will be in a few months."
Seb tucked his hands into his pockets, glancing curiously between us. "Wait—you two seem to know each other better than I do."
Benita and I laughed together. "Well," I explained, "Bennie and I went to the same high school in Rio de Janeiro."
"You two are something else." Benita shook her head with a playful smile, looping her stethoscope around her neck. Then she turned to Sebastian with mock sternness. "You have a lot of explaining to do, especially the fact you hit on my friend."
Seb gave a sheepish laugh. "Sorry I hit on your friend. But if you were in my shoes—and my gender—you'd understand."
"Awwn," Benita teased, flashing me her widest grin. I rolled my eyes and mouthed, Go away, naughty girl.
Soon, she applied cold gel to my baby bump and began moving the transducer probe across it. The coolness made me shiver, but Seb's hand clasping mine steadied me. Together, we fixed our eyes on the monitor screen.
For Sebastian, everything was brand new. His brows knitted as he stared, unsure of what he was looking at. But even in his confusion, I could see the awe in his face—he knew these blurred shapes meant something more than he could comprehend.
"Benita, what are those?" he asked, pointing at the monitor.
Benita's lips curled into a soft smile. "Your babies."
"Babies?" Seb and I blurted out together.
My jaw slackened. Shock rippled through me. Babies?
Seb's eyes darted to me, then back at the screen. He looked completely dazed, almost pale.
But me? My heart thundered. For the first time since this journey began, I realized I wasn't carrying just one life. I was twenty-two weeks in—and only now learning the truth.
Not one. Not two.
More than one.
"Yeah?" Benita tilted her head, amused by the puzzle on our faces. "Three of them."
"Three of—" Seb and I echoed at the same time, our eyes locking in disbelief.
I whipped my gaze back to Benita, desperate for confirmation. "Tell me you're not joking. Please tell me you mean it."
She smiled knowingly. "I'm not joking. What you just saw on the monitor is real. You two are having triplets."
My hand shot out, gripping Sebastian's arm for support. Joy flooded me, but fear slipped in right behind it, cold and sharp. Three babies. Inside me. Oh Lord, have mercy.
Seb, however, only seemed concerned by my reaction. He kissed my forehead, his palm rubbing soothing circles on my shoulder.
Benita caught the storm in my expression and softened her tone. "There's no need to be scared, Serena. It's your first pregnancy, and I assure you—safe delivery is possible."
"But you said triplets…" My voice cracked, the word itself heavy on my tongue.
"Yes." She nodded as she cleaned me up. "Three healthy babies. That's exactly what you're carrying." She smiled again. "Believe me, you'll be fine. They're all strong and doing well. Just follow the prescriptions I gave you, rest as much as you can, drink plenty of water… and trust me, you'll have a safe, normal delivery."
I drew in a deep breath, trying to digest her words, letting them settle into my bones.
-----
"Triplets?" Adira's voice practically shook with excitement when we stepped out of the hospital toward the garage. She clapped her hands together in delight. "You won't believe this—Sharon went for her OB-GYN yesterday and was told she's having quadruplets!"
Sebastian and I gasped in unison. "Quadruplets?"
Adira tossed my maternity bag into the back seat of the SUV, her grin wide and uncontainable. "Yes! Which means I'll be blessed with seven grandbabies soon."
Seb and I exchanged a look—his stunned, mine somewhere between amusement and disbelief. She was counting grandchildren while I was still reeling from the thought of pushing three babies out of me.
"Really?" I asked, raising a brow at him playfully. "Was there some hidden family history of multiples I didn't know about?"
But inside, hearing Sharon's news strangely eased me. The fear still lingered, but now it felt lighter—shared. I wasn't the only one carrying more than one miracle, or facing the daunting unknown of delivery day. Somehow, that made it a little easier to breathe.
Seb turned the question over to his mother. "Was there?"
Adira paused, thinking carefully before nodding. "Not really… only in my bloodline. I once had a twin." With that casual bombshell, she slid into the back seat and shut the door.
I looked at Sebastian as he opened the passenger door for me, a knowing smile tugging at my lips. "Boom. I knew it. Your bloodline has everything to do with me carrying multiples. Because in my family? Not a single case of twins. No doubles at all."
He smirked, leaning in slightly as I settled into the seat. "Well, at least what we were supposed to achieve in six years… we're accomplishing in one." He winked, his voice dripping with teasing pride.
I gasped, catching his meaning instantly. "You're a moron," I hissed under my breath, though the corner of my lips betrayed me with a smile. "Look what you've done to me—what you've turned me into."
Sebastian threw his head back and laughed, that deep, rich sound filling the car. Then, with a final grin, he shut the door once I was safely inside.