Zero-Two-Early

Something was a little off. The babies were so heavy on August 23. I felt just a little pain.
No, not pain. Discomfort.

I'm carrying twins. Of course I'm uncomfortable.

That night I probably got up to use the bathroom like 10 times. I foggily noted after about 3 times that it seemed to be every 30 minutes or so. So sleepy. There was a new, intense (but tolerable) pressure. The babies must be kicking me or laying on my bladder. In the morning, I got up to get ready for work.

It was only the 2nd week of class and the plan was to make it until the 8th week. My substitute was already in position, and I had everything ready for her. My plan was so planned.

I felt weak when I got out of bed and a little clammy, like I might be getting the flu or something. In the shower, I kept having to rest my hands on my knees. "I don't think I'm gonna make it to work today," to my husband.
"Do you need to go to the hospital??"
"No.... I dont know. No. I think I just need to lay down."
"Are you sure you don't need to go to the hospital?" He asked me that at least 5 times.

"No. I just need to rest. Go to work."
I called my co-worker and told her I wouldn't be in. I felt some embarrassment as my voice cracked through tears. I hated that my body wouldn't let me be strong, let me prove to everyone that I could do this.  I called my mom and told her I just wasn't feeling right today. She came right over and it became increasingly obvious that I was in labor. She very calmly timed my contractions. "Have you packed a bag yet?"
"What? I still have 2 months!"
"You're in labor." She casually walked around our bedroom getting things ready for a bag. "Call Rodney. He needs to take you to the hospital," just like...no big deal. I love my mom. She's so composed. I'm so happy she could be there with me for this moment in my life when I most needed to relax and fight my panic instincts.
Rodney came home in just a few minutes. Matter of fact: "We're not gonna have the babies today. They'll get you back on track and you'll probably be on bed rest now."
"Yeah."
I had imagined this day very differently from how it was panning out. At least I had a shower, but I had planned to put makeup on, dry my hair...look a little more...together, a little less raggedy.

When we got checked into the hospital, the midwives were buzzing all around me. One was taking my blood pressure, another giving me a steroid injection. One was attaching a monitor to my belly. I felt like I was an outsider, watching some movie scene. No one was really regarding me as owner of my body.
In came the doctor I had least wanted to see. He was cold and a little rough in my previous appointments. My body tensed and I felt defensive as soon as I saw him. He checked me out and...that broken sentence that will forever ring in my mind:

"4, fully effaced, babies coming today." It sounded like some military command to me. I've been hit.
My body involuntarily heaved and a loud and hideous tone was rattling in my ears like a siren. I realized I was screaming out.
My husband and a female intern brought their faces close to mine, told me it was ok, to calm down. "The babies will be fine. You've done a good job," the lady said.
My husband's eyes told me he was just as scared as I was. Before they wheeled me out, he said, "You're my family."
How I love him.