We went back to Libreville just so I could tell Mom the good news. I was nervous, but it was perhaps the first time my mother had been happy for me, that I could remember. She didn’t even ask which of the twins was the biological father.
If I’d had any doubts about her wanting me in her life, wanting me happy, they died just then.
I still moved around with them, until they were done with their tour. They wanted some stability for a baby, so they found a house to rent while they searched for something more permanent, and we settled down as they wound down from another championship win.
The guys were with me, one on each side when I went to the hospital almost to the day of the expected birth.
Carl about had a fit when he got home to find me standing by the door, hands cradling my stomach and a bag packed by my side. His eyes were wide and he just stood there, frozen.
“What…”
Then Abe came in around him, saw the bag, and rushed to my side, immediately concerned. Their concerns were widely different, though. Carl thought I wanted to leave. Before I could even scream about him for thinking something so stupid, Abe had us both out the door and in a cab, heading for the nearest hospital. They both insisted on going inside with me to the delivery room.
After hours of hard, grueling labor, I gave birth to twins, two baby boys.
And I laughed because I figured my life was going to get overrun with Thomas boys.
I couldn’t have been happier.
Thank You