Tia

“It’s too early,” I cry out as another contraction washes over me. Anxiety for my babies is worse than the physical pain.

“You’re thirty-five weeks,” Banks says, holding me, and rubbing my back. “That’s a lot further than we thought you’d get. And I have a team of the best doctors in the world on hand. All you need to do now is relax and trust me.”

I know he’s right. I’ve been in the hospital for three weeks now, waiting for this day. The pregnancy has had very few complications, but as I’m ushered to the operating room, and prepped for a C-section, the fear I’ve been trying to hold back consumes me.

Until I see my other husbands come into the room, each wearing green scrubs and masks.

“You all need to stay back and out of our way,” Banks says to them. “One of you can sit on the stool by her head.”

Fallon, of course, doesn’t wait or ask, he just moves to my side, sitting on the stool and taking my hand.

“I’m scared, Fal.”

“It’s all right. Soon you’re going to meet your children. Just think about that.” Through his mask, he kisses my forehead, and some of my tension eases.

There are so many people in the room. Nurses, doctors, and I know outside Miriam and Grace are waiting along with a news crew that’s here to document this historic occasion.

“Just look at me,” Fallon says. “Focus here.”

“You’re going to feel some pressure,” Banks says, but I barely hear his words, I just keep my gaze trained on the blue eyes that smile down at me.

“We’re having our babies,” I say.

“And Baby A is out,” Banks says, a second before a small cry fills the room. “A little girl. And she’s got a good set of lungs on her.”

He holds her up momentarily so I can see the bright red face, before handing our daughter off to one of the NICU nurses.

“She’s beautiful,” I say, tears filling my eyes. “Maja,” I say the name that Emerson chose for Baby A, that means splendid. And she is. Splendid and perfect and finally here.

“Baby D is out,” Banks says. “Another little girl.”

Fallon laughs when he peeks around the sheet. “And look at that hair.”

“What?” I ask, needing to see her.

“Fire engine red,” he says.

“Charlotte,” I say her name when Banks finally gives me a glimpse of the baby with hair the same color as Giles.

“Two little girls, Tia,” Fallon says. “Two healthy little girls.”

That alone is a miracle. But I still have four more babies to deliver.

Baby C and E are next. Two little boys who let their voices be heard loud and clear. Finley and Aiden, both with a small tuff of dark hair.

Baby F takes a little longer, but when he’s delivered his cry is even louder than the others. He’s also the biggest.

“Hello, Devin,” I murmur before he too is taken away.

I hate that I can’t be with each of them, but I know my other husbands are with them.

“You’re doing so good,” Fallon says, stroking my forehead.

Minutes pass, and I can hear Banks issuing orders, but there’s no announcement that Baby B has been born.

Blair.

She was the smallest in utero, and I know Banks was the most worried about her.

“Is something wrong?” I ask.

Fallon glances over at Banks, but I can’t see the look they exchange.

“Banks?” I say, panic clawing at my throat.

“Come on, sweetheart,” I hear him mumble.

“Fallon. Tell me what’s happening.”

His fingers tighten around mine, and when he looks back at me, I see my own fear matched in his eyes. “The umbilical cord was wrapped around her throat. They’re working on her.”

“What does that mean?” I hate how useless I feel.

“She’s not breathing.”

“No,” I cry out.

“Tia,” Banks says from behind the sheet. “I need you to stay calm or I’m going to have to sedate you. I still have work to do here. You’re hemorrhaging--”

“I don’t care. Don’t worry about me. Just save our daughter.”

“Fallon, you need to keep her calm.”

But I can’t stay calm. Not when one of my babies is in distress.

“Her heart rate is skyrocketing,” one of the nurses says.

“Goddamnit.” Banks is issuing orders, one of which is a narcotic that I know will knock me out.

I want to scream at him not to inject it, but already the drug is in my veins, and a heaviness settles on me, pulling me into a deep, dreamless sleep. My last thought before the darkness takes me is of the baby girl whose face I never saw.

Blair.

Blair.

Blair.

Groggy and aching, I slowly wake. All of my husbands, except Banks are in the room, along with five incubators.

“Hey, beautiful,” Giles says, moving towards the bed when he sees I’m awake. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I just gave birth to six babies,” I murmur.

But then my heart clenches and I remember the last moments before Banks put me under.

Five incubators. Not six.

Tears burn my eyes and my breath catches on a small sob. I know I should be grateful that I have five healthy babies, but the loss is overwhelming.

“What’s wrong?” Salinger asks as the others surround me.

I can only choke out one word, “Blair.”

“She’s right here,” Banks says, coming into the room pushing an incubator. “We were just running a few tests.”

“She’s... alive?” More tears gather, and when I blink they fall down my cheeks.

“She’s a fighter, just like her mom,” Huxley says, leaning over and kissing my forehead.

“They’re all doing really well,” Banks says. “It was you we were worried about.”

“Me?”

“We almost lost you,” Fallon says on a heavy breath.

“She’s really breathing?” I ask tears in my eyes. In disbelief that all of us are here, in one piece.

Huxley is at my side. “Yes, she’s beautiful. Small but fierce.” He cups my face and kissing me softly.

The room glows with love, and Emerson tells me his parents and Miriam are in the waiting room. They were able to see the babies through the window when they were in the NICU nursery. News feeds are already reporting on the births. Finally, a national story that can make people believe that all things are possible.

“You did so well,” Em tells me, taking my hand in his own. “You were so brave.”

“Can we get you anything?” Giles asks, his face ruddy with pride.

“There’s only one thing I need now,” I say, looking around the room at my husbands. Six fathers. They’ve never looked more handsome than they do now, gazing adoringly at the incubators.

“What’s that?” Sal asks. “Your wish is my command.”

“I want to go home,” I say, thinking of the island and the home my husbands have been building there.

Fallon smiles softly. “Tia, haven’t you learned by now that home is where the heart is?”

I smile, the tension I’ve been carrying for the last thirty-five weeks beginning to fade. “That’s true, but I was kind of imagining a house with an extra large bed… big enough for all of us.”

Banks gives me a cocky grin. “That’s my girl. You gave birth to six babies hours ago and already you’re thinking about sex.”

I shrug, a playful smile spreading across my lips. “What can I say? It’s been a long time.”

But I know it will be a longer time still as my body heals.

Just then, a baby begins to whimper and Banks lifts Charlotte from the incubator. “Ready to hold your daughter?”

He places her in my arms, and I press my lips to her head, breathing in her perfect baby smell. I should have no idea what I’m doing, I’m a first-time mother and my only experience is reading books and watching videos. Yet somehow, as I cradle Charlotte, I know exactly what to do.

My husbands gather around the bed, every eye trained on mother and daughter, all of us filled to the brim with gratitude.

I lower my dressing gown, offering her my breast for the first time. Her tiny hands curl into fists, strong and delicate. She begins to suckle and tears pool in my eyes as the miracle of life is held in my hands.

She shouldn’t be here.

I shouldn’t be here.

Somehow, with all the odds against us, we somehow survived.

I look up, at my husbands, and I realize that isn’t quite right. We didn’t somehow survive.

We survived because we weren’t in it alone.

We survived because we were together.