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For Daniel - A Great Shift Tale
By Danielle J

Thank you to my editor, Steve Zink, for his editing and proofreading.

I'd also like to thank Dr. Debra Jones and the staff of St. Mary's Hospital.

Glossary

NICU - Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. A treatment facility for infants born before full term.

Term - When a pregnant woman reaches week 37 or more in her pregnancy. Forty is considered normal. If a mother reaches forty-two weeks labor will be induced.

HOM - High Order Multiples. Triplets or more.

Perinatologist - A high-risk obstetrician. Triplet pregnancies are automatically high risk.

Antepartum Unit - A hospital ward for pregnant mothers in danger of premature labor.

Cerclage - A cervical stitch that is placed when a pregnant mother's cervix begins to shorten prematurely. Usually done before twenty weeks pregnant except in emergency situations.

Bedrest - Literally what it says, it means a pregnant mother is confined to bed. It can be either partial or total. The reasons for bedrest include cerclage, pre-term labor and pre-eclampsia to name a few.

Circumcision - Oi Vei, is it really necessary I explain this one?

Author's notes - Some of this story is semi-based on my own experiences with my life partner. It strikes a very deep personal chord with me.

This story will probably go into much greater detail than most TG fiction stories do when dealing with pregnancy. You may think my character is an exaggeration, but she isn't. As many as one in ten pregnant mothers go on some form of bedrest. In the case of HOM mothers, the vast majority spend at least some of their pregnancy on bedrest. At least half by twenty weeks gestation.

Enjoy, and please leave some reader comments.

One last note - to keep this story consistent with my last two Great Shift tales, Mulligans and Lost and Found, I place the date of the shift on a Sunday, July 30, 2000. There were some readers who expressed confusion over the year in my last story.

*****

For Daniel

*****

The big day was finally here. Getting up early that January morning, I had breakfast together with my friend before getting dressed and ready for the day. The house was ready. Well, as much as one could be considering what was about to happen to our lives.

"Are we all set?" my friend asked. I said yes, and after getting my purse and leaving last second instructions with Mrs. O'Connell we left the house, locking the door behind us.

In the driveway was a Chevy Suburban. It was a brand new 2001 model, only bought two months earlier. The vehicle was immense, but I needed its size. I got in the passenger seat, while my friend got behind the wheel.

As the Suburban began to back out of the driveway I thought back to a day over five and half months earlier.

*****

It was a bright and sunny California morning as I collected my golf clubs at my Mountain View home. Mountain View is one of the more fashionable or elite areas of the San Francisco Bay community. My name then was Matt or Matthew Snyder. I was thirty-six years old and a licensed stockbroker for Salomon Smith Barney. I shared my home with my thirty-five-year-old girlfriend, Lilah Freeman. We had no children, not even a pet. Lilah was a corporate lawyer. We were what most people called Yuppies or Dinkies. Dinky stands for dual income, no kids. Both of us had careers and were too busy or too uninterested in starting a family.

In my eleven years as a broker I had done very well for myself. Through wise investing, I had made over seven figures investing in the stock market in that time. Also being wise, I had not gotten caught up in the Internet stock frenzy. That bubble was already bursting and while a few of my clients were suffering the pangs of this collapse, it was mostly self-inflicted. I didn't make them buy these now worthless or soon to be worthless stocks.

The house I lived in was worth over a million dollars and had no mortgage. I had a Jaguar convertible to drive and belonged to the prestigious and exclusive Green Valley Country Club. All in all I had a good life.

I rose that morning around 6:30 a.m. I got myself out of bed and prepared myself breakfast. As was her custom, Lilah was still in bed and would be till 8:10 a.m. Having collected the Sunday San Francisco Examiner from the driveway, I read the newspaper while eating breakfast.

After finishing breakfast and clearing the kitchen, I got ready for the day. After a quick shower and shave it was 11:00 a.m. and I was ready to begin the day. Going out to the garage I got my golf clubs and put them in my Jaguar's trunk, then I went back into the house.

By now Lilah was up. She was having some toast and coffee while reading the newspaper. "Good morning," I said, bending down to kiss her. She was an attractive looking woman. With caramel colored skin, the result of having an African-American father and white mother, she looked at least five years younger than she was. When standing my girlfriend stood 6'. And weighed in the vicinity of 160 lbs. All in all, a well proportioned body but way too tall for someone who aspired to be a ballerina. That had been Lilah's dream when growing up. Instead she had chosen the legal profession.

"How are you?" Lilah asked as the kiss ended. "Sleep well?"

"Okay, can't complain." Lilah and I had stayed up watching Saturday Night Live the prior night. We didn't go to sleep until after 1 a.m.

"Who are you playing golf with today?" she asked.

"Don and Chuck. Chris hasn't gotten back from Thailand yet," was my reply. "Are you having brunch at the club?"

"Yes, I'm meeting Charlotte and Cathy there at 1," Lilah said as she read the morning's newspaper.

'Another lunch with your friends. Wouldn't it be nice for a change if we did something together.' For whatever reason I had been getting the distinct impression Lilah and I had been drifting apart for the last year. Maybe it was time for us to go our separate ways, but I wasn't about to make the first move. My lawyer girlfriend would probably slap me with a palimony suit if I did.

"What time does the limo arrive to pick you up tonight?" Lilah was flying the redeye to New York that evening. She was going there as part of her work. This week would be spent taking depositions as part of some litigation she was working on.

It wasn't unusual for Lilah to have to travel. This year alone she had been to New York at least a half dozen times, about ten times to Los Angeles, twice to Tokyo, the list went on. I stopped counting long ago.

"Eight p.m.," was Lilah's reply as she continued reading the paper. Then an article in that day's Examiner caught her eye. My girlfriend pointed at it for me. "Don't they look adorable?"

"Yes, they do," I replied. It was in the accent section of the newspaper. On the front page was a photo of triplet girls named Madison, Marilyn and Meredith Han. The newborn baby girls according to the article were approximately four months old.

Also on the same page was a picture of the proud parents, May Han the children's biological mother and her girlfriend Alexandra Perkins. The lengthy story was continued on page 61.

I had already seen the article and had only scanned it. Both women were Asian American. Ms. Han was Korean and Ms. Perkins was part Filipino. Both were lesbians and had conceived the babies via invitro fertilization.

"Sometimes I think about us having a baby," Lilah mentioned.

'With your schedule?' I thought to myself, not wanting to express my own feelings. Lilah's career and motherhood could never possibly mix. Besides, I wasn't interested in being a father.

Avoiding the subject, I gave Lilah one last kiss. "I've got to get going. See you later." Right after that I left the house.

Five minutes later I was just getting onto Route 101 heading north toward Milbrae. Milbrae was about a thirty-minute drive from my home and about equidistant between San Francisco and San Jose.

Traffic was light that Sunday morning. Within minutes I was passing through Palo Alto. This was the home to prestigious Stanford University. Being originally from Southern California I had attended USC, but my girlfriend Lilah was a Stanford Law grad.

Having passed the University or its exit countless times I didn't pay it much more attention than I normally did. It was just part of my routine. I was instead concentrating instead on my driving. Then some jerk in a BMW cut me off. I was about to honk my car horn at him when I began to feel very weird.

*****

The next thing I remember was waking up. It was a gradual process coming in fits and starts. As I came to, a few things began to strike me as odd. First, I was no longer in my car but in a room. Also, I was apparently in bed.

Secondly, I didn't feel right. Most prominently, my head was ringing. Maybe it was from the public address system. Whoever was on it seemed to not to be able to stop talking. But it was more than that. I was also feeling a bit nauseous.

Still feeling weak and odd, I just lay there. I noticed I was on my right side in what looked like a private room. There wasn't another bed in the room. Then, looking at my left arm, I finally realized why I felt like I was being poked. It had some kind of IV hooked to it.

The taste in my mouth. I just couldn't shake it. It was so yucky and made me want to puke. Instead, something else was gaining my attention. It was arm. Looking further down the arm I could see my hand.

Before I could pay attention to that I heard a voice. "Rachel, are you all right?"

"I'm not..." The voice I heard wasn't right. By now the woman had walked further into the room. She appeared to be a nurse, Asian in appearance. I tried rolling over onto my back but this didn't prove easy. Somehow I had grown very fat since I last remembered myself driving my car. The extra weight in my stomach was that noticeable even under the bed sheets. Then I tried speaking up again. This wasn't easy to do. It actually was very uncomfortable, even painful. "I'm not Rachel."

The voice still wasn't right. But I was slowly beginning to realize nothing was right. Just before the woman entered the room I had noticed my hand. It wasn't my hand.

"Oh God, it happened to you, too. What in the world is going on?" the still nameless woman said as if in shock. Then a beeping sound could be heard. The woman or nurse looked down at the beeper. "I've got to find Rachel."

The woman then left the room and I went back to my arm or hand. I looked at my hand closer. It was slender, even feminine. It had nails. 'What has happened to me?'

There was a tag around my wrist. I looked at the tag. It said Rachel Klein DOB 02/13/68, had what appeared to be a social security number on it, and some other meaningless info.

'LPCH. I'm in Lucile Packard's Children's Hospital? And I'm a Rachel Klein?' I thought. "How? Why? I'm a woman now?" speaking in what I now realized was a female voice.

For a moment I felt this odd sensation coming from my stomach. Like there was pressure on the inside. It started, then stopped, started again and then stopped. 'Odd, it was coming from two different places,' I thought.

There was no one in the room to answer my questions. Seeing a buzzer or speaker in my bed, I pressed the Nurse call button and waited.

Nobody came. So I pressed it again after about a minute. Still nobody came, so I continued pressing the nurse call button. I had to find out what had happened to me. By now I was almost to the point of hyperventilating, my anxiety was that high. How did this happen?

My surroundings were beginning to dawn on me also. I didn't need to look beneath the sheet and blanket that covered me. There was no doubt what I'd find there. But I noticed something else; there was some kind of monitor attached to my stomach. I could feel the pressure and see the wires that ran to a machine parked to the left side of the bed. What was that for?

The bed was flanked on both sides by tray tables. On one tray table there was several magazines, a phone, a plastic cup and a pitcher. The other tray table had a box of crackers and an empty tray or pale on it. Both tables were within easy reach for me.

Directly across from the bed was a chalkboard. It said today's date was July 30th. It also said my nurse was Lydia. It also had the extensions for the dietary department and the nursing supervisor written on the board. There was also a small round table in the room with two chairs.

My breathing was getting real fast by now. 'Take it easy. There has to be an explanation,' I thought, trying to calm down and only half succeeding. On the opposite wall there was a clock that said 3:08. 'How many days had passed? This couldn't still be Sunday? It's daytime, the sun is coming in.'

I continued pressing the buzzer for a nurse. As I did I noticed the rest of the room. It was totally unremarkable. A bathroom was on one side of the room. Also, there was a television ahead and to the right of me. Also to my right side was a reclining chair. Other than the still unknown machine, there was a sink and cabinet area before one got to the door leading outside.

Ever since I regained consciousness my ears had been inundated with noise coming from the hallway. Apparently some kind of disturbance was going on outside because people were yelling and screaming. I even heard something hit the wall behind my head. Was this all part of what happened to me?

I don't know how long it was. But finally someone entered the room. Apparently he was a nurse, but wasn't dressed like one.

"Okay, okay. What's the emergency, Hon?" the guy asked going over and checking the machine next to me.

"I'm a woman," I said still in shock. "I used to be a man."

"Join the parade, Hon. Half the floor is just like you," the nurse said, motioning for me to roll back over onto my right side. "You must really sleep either on your right or left side and be careful not to disconnect the monitor."

As the nurse rolled me over I moved my left hand down to my stomach area. I had always been careful to stay in shape. But feeling my stomach now I noticed how firm it felt. I thought if someone were fat, it would be flabby. 'It's firm or hard. Shouldn't it be soft?'

Then I got that feeling again like I had earlier. From inside my stomach. It was feeling like movement. Not knowing what to say I blurted out, "Why?"

"Why you're a woman and I'm a guy now?" the nurse half asked. "They don't know yet. Why you must lay on your side is so you can keep those precious babies in there as long as possible."

"Babies??" I asked, feeling another movement. 'It's a kick.'

"Yes, hon," the nurse said perfectly deadpan. "You are expecting triplets."

I was too shocked to say anything. The nurse said to only buzz for help if it was absolutely necessary and then left.

*****

Triplets? Triplets? 'This has to be some kind of fucking nightmare,' I thought. This couldn't be real. I couldn't be a woman in a hospital bed expecting triplets. When will I wake up?

But the reality was much harsher. Now things were making sense. As much as anything did make sense in the Post Great Shift world. That was what the event was being called, The Great Shift. Ninety percent of the World's population was now residing in someone else's body. My bloated stomach was the result of being pregnant. Plus what I was feeling inside was the movement and kicking of three babies.

And almost as if on cue, the babies inside me started kicking away. Despite my admonitions to stop the kicking, they didn't. Soon I began to cry. 'Why did this happen to me?'

This was so unsettling. I hadn't ever cried except for my parents' separate funerals. Otherwise, I don't think I had done this since before I was ten. My present situation or nightmare was so upsetting and beyond anything I'd ever comprehended before in my life.

As if they knew I was upset, the babies inside me started getting restless. "Will you please stop that?" I said out loud, knowing it was useless. Not knowing what else to do I just laid there. I didn't know what was worse, my situation or the absolute loneliness I felt.

It was some time before I decided to do something about the loneliness. I picked up the phone and tried dialing home. Despite repeated attempts, all I got was an operator-recorded message saying for me to try again later. Whatever had caused my change must have happened to many people. Not just the patients at LPCH.

I thought of turning on the television set to find out, but I had some urgent business to do. With my wires and IV I would need help going to the bathroom. I buzzed the nurse's station.

Unlike my prior effort, it was only a minute before I got a response. "Yes?"

"I need to go to the bathroom."

"Someone will be there in a minute," the voice replied. So I waited. It was more like five minutes before a heavy-set woman named Debbie entered the room. Instead of helping me out of bed, the nurse took my left hand. Taking a small object, the nurse pricked a finger.

The only thing I felt from the prick was a slight sting. "What was that for?"

"For your blood sugar," Debbie replied, looking at a hand held monitor. "One thirteen, that isn't bad. You can have your snack now."

"I need to use the bathroom," I said. Instead of getting me out of the bed, Debbie handed me the pan that was on one of the two nearby tables. I only then realized it was a bedpan. "I've got to use this?"

"Yes, Doctor's orders," Debbie replied.

"For how long?" I asked as I took the bedpan from Debbie. I was already feeling embarrassed.

"I don't know. You can ask the doctor," Debbie answered. As I turned on my back and then wiggled the bedpan under my butt, the nurse went and got a small container of milk from a refrigerator in the room.

My embarrassment only increased as I used the bedpan. How long was I to be stuck like this? After finishing my urgent business, I gave the pan to Debbie who took it to the bathroom.

Something I noticed while using the bedpan was the elevation of the bed. My feet were way up in the air. How could anyone sleep like this? While Debbie was flushing my urine down the toilet, I began to lower the bed to a more reasonable height.

"You can't do that," Debbie said, coming back out of the bathroom. She immediately returned the bed to its former height.

"Why?" I asked as my embarrassment turned to disgust. Could I do anything for myself? 'God, I'm beginning to cry again.'

"It's Doctor's orders," Debbie replied as she began changing the paper on the monitor next to the bed. "So you can keep those babies inside you as long as possible. The doctor will explain later."

After finishing with the monitor, Debbie then left the room. Rolling back onto my right side I just stared at the snack and drink left for me. 'What am I, an eight-year-old? Oh God, I can't even piss or eat without help. Why me?'

Whether in an effort to forget my own plight or just to find out what in the world was going on, I turned on the television set.

The news was a chilling sight. Cars and houses were on fire, people running around in a state of panic. Some of them were half naked, some were even children. It was a scene of anarchy. The reporter who was speaking described how people had been shifted to different bodies. No rhyme or reason to the switches. Then there was an image of a young white man maybe in his early twenties holding a microphone.

"This is Joan Campbell reporting for CBS news, Washington." Even the reporter had been shifted. Was this a worldwide event? Disdaining the 'children's' snack, I decided to continue watching. Maybe a solution would soon be available.

*****

"I can't believe this," John Wilson said, shaking her head in the ladies restroom inside the Singapore Airlines Raffles Club at San Francisco International Airport. At the moment she was inside one of the stalls examining herself. "Why did this happen?"

A little over an hour ago the third year law student and his newlywed wife Peg were sitting in the club as they waited for their Tokyo bound plane to be called. Then both began to feel dizzy and suddenly passed out. A few minutes later both awoke to realize they were in each other's bodies.

This had suddenly given the couple a whole new and unexpected twist in their lives. Not as if there hadn't been any recently. But nothing could compare to what had just happened to the Wilsons.

At first the couple just sat there dazed and confused. The airport club had quickly turned to hysteria, people running around, screaming, crying. Even a young Asian woman started to take her clothes off in public.

This had given the Wilsons a totally unexpected twist to what was supposed to be the first day of their honeymoon. Only the day before Peg and John Wilson had gotten married in St. Martin Catholic Church in nearby Sunnyvale. After spending the evening in a resort hotel, the couple was supposed to be leaving today for a three-week trip to Asia that was to include stops in Bangkok, Singapore and Tokyo.

Now who knew if the couple would ever go on their honeymoon? All flights were now listed as delayed. To be honest, John really didn't care now.

John had visited the bathroom partly out of need, and partly because she just had to check. Once inside the stall, she pulled down the skirt she was wearing. What she found was no surprise, it was her wife Peg's body all right.

Once done with her business, John Wilson reemerged from the stall. She went over to one of the sinks and washed her hands. At the same time another woman entered the rest room. She was wearing a Singapore Airlines flight attendant's uniform.

"This is so cool," the unnamed Indian woman said. "Wait 'til the guys see me when class starts the end of next month."

'Cool? Have you lost your mind?' John felt like saying. Having finished washing her hands, she gazed in the mirror. The face John saw was her wife Peg's. A twenty-five-year-old woman with brown hair, brown eyes and a round face.

"Were you changed, too?" asked the faux flight attendant.

"Yes," John Wilson replied.

"I was a fifteen-year-old. Supposed to be flying with my parents to Chicago today. How about you?"

John ignored the woman's question as she washed her hands. The boy turned woman wasn't fazed at all by the non-reply. Instead she was looking down her blouse and had begun to giggle.

"Wow, I've got tits now. This is so incredible!"

Incredible was hardly the word John would use now. The man turned woman had seen enough. More than enough, the teenage boy turned flight attendant was now fondling herself. Leaving the restroom, the newlywed headed to the back of the club. Things were quieting down, but screaming and crying could still be heard occasionally.

Finding Peg where she had left him, John slumped down into the chair beside him.

"John, what do we do?" Peg asked.

"I don't know. Have you tried calling your parents?"

"Yes, but the phones appear out of order."

"The whole world is out of order," John said, thinking out loud and gazing at her wife now in the body she had only owned minutes ago. The newlyweds had known one another for six years, and were planning to marry after John finished law school except for another unplanned event. And that was now heavily on John Wilson's mind.

She would be eighteen weeks pregnant next Tuesday.

*****

Watching television helped to pass the time, but offered little in the way of a remedy for me. First it became obvious after reports from around the globe that it was a worldwide event. Then came the commentators who talked about The Great Shift, all conjecturing as to why it happened and how long it would last. After about two hours of this I had concluded the people were just guessing.

All the networks had interrupted regular programming to cover the shift. With only twenty television channels, I was left with few programming choices. ESPN wasn't even broadcasting, the shift had affected the sports world, too. The rest of the programming on wasn't very satisfactory, repeats and unappealing movies. Plus some public broadcasting stations and something called the Newborn Channel.

Television had at least provided me a way of not dwelling too much on my predicament. As if that was possible. Every few minutes the babies inside me would either move or kick, giving me a reminder of who I was now. A pregnant woman.

*****

I had to page for a nurse to come. It was bedpan time again. Except I waited till Debbie arrived before going. This made the pressure in my bladder mount to an unbearable degree. Debbie told me not to wait in the future for a nurse to come. Only to call after I had gone. She said the floor staff was very busy. While in the room I also had my temperature and blood pressure taken.

Once Debbie was gone I had decided I had enough. Picking up the phone in my room I tried calling Lilah again. It took about twenty minutes of trying, but finally the phone began ringing.

"Hello." It wasn't Lilah's voice, but I immediately recognized it as the voice of Charlotte Ellis. She was Lilah's best friend. African-American like my girlfriend, Charlotte was recently divorced and mother to a three-year-old daughter.

"Lilah?" I asked, wondering if my girlfriend had been shifted too.

"Yes, who is calling?"

'So Lilah shifted with Charlotte. Why does that seem strange to me?' I decided to drop the thought for now. "Lilah, you may not believe it, but it's me, Matt."

"I don't believe it," Lilah replied. This didn't surprise me, I was just grateful she didn't hang up the phone. Not wasting time I decided to prove it.

"Who else would know about that mole on the left side of your buttocks?"

"Matt?" Lilah replied. "You were shifted? I saw about it on television."

"Yes, it's me, Matt, and yes, I was shifted. Now get in your car and get up here to Lucile Packard Children's hospital."

"That's where you're at now?" Lilah asked. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm at the hospital, and no, I am not all right. I'm a freaking woman and pregnant with triplets. I want out of here!"

"Oh."

"Oh, what the f..." I began to say fuck, but recalled Lilah's extreme dislike of swearing. She was the granddaughter of a Baptist minister. "Just get up here to the hospital."

"I can't," Lilah replied, acting as if nothing had happened to me. "I don't have enough time."

"Why don't you have enough time?"

"I have that flight to New York to catch," Lilah said. "I can't miss it. Think I'd better leave for the airport early."

"You really think you're going to fly tonight?" I said, trying to avoid losing patience with my girlfriend. The woman had to be brain dead. She had watched the news. There had been plane crashes all over the globe as a result of the shift. There had been crashes in Southern California, Portland and Las Vegas. Did she really expect there to be a flight tonight?

"Yes, I have to get to New York," Lilah insisted. "I will come by when I come home, or maybe you will be home by then. I really need to get going."

I was about to say fat chance, but Lilah hung up the phone on me. Staring at the phone, I avoided the temptation to curse at it. What good would it do? I tried calling Lilah back, but got the recording again.

With nothing else to do I just lay there in bed and started crying again. 'Damn it, why am I being so emotional like this?'

About an hour later dinner arrived. It was meatloaf, rice and mixed vegetables. But first Debbie had to give me insulin. I was told this was to be the procedure every time before I start eating. After doing this, Debbie set the dinner up on the table so I could access it easily. I couldn't even sit up to eat.

Truthfully, the meatloaf looked as unappetizing as it tasted. I devoured it in any case, because I was too famished not to eat.

*****

The next few hours were spent in loneliness except for the television. I was already tired of the news, so I settled on watching Die Hard. It was better than nothing.

Other than that, nothing happened. I tried calling Lilah again, this time getting through but there was no answer. The babies were responsive, however; they seemed to be having a kickboxing class inside me. Also, for whatever reason I was passing gas in the worst possible way. These explosions were both long and industrial strength in odor.

Die Hard was about half over when another nurse entered the room. This nurse was a new one. "Hello, my name is Aida," the nurse said with what sounded like an Eastern European accent. She immediately began taking my blood pressure. "I'm your nurse for tonight."

"Hi," was all I said. There was so much I wanted to say or ask but didn't know where to start.

"Any complaints?" Aida asked, recording my blood pressure. I didn't get time to answer. My new nurse stuck a thermometer in my mouth.

When my temperature was done being taken, I got to talk. "None, other than I used to be a man and now I'm a pregnant woman."

"There are a few others like you here on the floor," Aida replied. But I don't know, it was the way she said it. It was like she empathized with me.

"I'm lonely. It's so overwhelming," I said. Aida was sincerely trying to understand. "I'm even scared."

"That's understandable," Aida replied. "I know a little of what you are going through; I shifted with my sister."

Aida was just getting ready to leave when I said one more thing. "I just wish there was someone here to talk to. I am so alone."

"I'm busy right now," Aida said, looking at her watch. "If nothing comes up, I can come back and we can chat sometime after 9:30."

"Thank you, I'd appreciate that," I said, smiling for the first time since the shift.

"You're welcome." Aida then left the room. I then went back to watching my movie.

*****

It was a little after 10 p.m. when Aida returned back to the room. She had brought a chart with her. "How are you doing?"

A half hour earlier Aida had stopped by the room to say she was running late. I had told her that was all right and that I understood. Die Hard had since finished and I had been trying to fall asleep but had been unable to.

Also, in between Aida's visits, I took my first peek at my new body. Glancing down the hospital gown I was wearing, I saw two large breasts encased in a sports bra and the large bloated stomach of a pregnant woman. That was all I took a look at, I didn't have a mirror readily available, and in any case I wasn't interested in seeing my face. One thing I knew, I had blonde hair. The experience proved too much for me and had brought about another bout of crying.

"All right, considering," was my reply. "Thank you for coming back."

"You're welcome," Aida replied as she pulled up a chair.

"I hope I'm not taking you away from your work," I said, happy to have some company.

"No, not at all. I got all my other patients taken care of before coming here," Aida said. "I'm sorry I ran late, we're short-handed tonight."

"Is that because of the shift?" I asked.

"Yes, but we're not too bad up here. Some departments are total chaos at the moment."

"I can imagine," I replied. The news had said people had been flooding local hospitals. Like the hospitals could help someone who was shifted. "How many patients do you have tonight?"

"Six, but four is the usual patient load here in the antepartum unit at night."

"Antepartum?" I asked. My education in pregnancy was about to begin, and I really knew next to nothing. I had heard of postpartum as in postpartum depression.

"Antepartum means before labor or childbirth," Aida explained. "The women in this unit are trying to prolong their pregnancies. For one reason or in another they are in danger of premature labor."

"That's why I'm hospitalized?"

"Yes, you were admitted two days ago by your physician, Dr. Crowe."

There was so much I wanted to ask or know about, I just didn't know where to start. I was still hoping this was only temporary, whatever had caused this shift had to be reversible. Right?

Something else entered my mind. My beloved Jaguar, and who ended up as me? If that person didn't take care of my car, I'd kill them. The possibility that its post-shift driver might easily have crashed the car hadn't entered my mind.

For some reason I decided to ask one thing I was curious about. "You said there are other men turned mothers here on the floor?"

"Yes, I have one other besides you, plus I think there are two others," Aida said. "I really can't talk about them, you know, patient privacy."

"I understand." What difference did it make, anyway? Did I care about anyone else's situation right now? "How about me? I mean, who I am now?"

Aida opened up her chart. "Your name is Rachel Klein, age 32. You live here in Palo Alto..."

"Married?" I said, interrupting. That thought had crossed my mind. Where was the father right now?

"No," Aida replied, hesitating. She along with the other nurses had to get guidance from administration as to what they should tell their "new" patients. That took some time, and that was why the nursing staff had sometimes been abrupt earlier in the day. "Actually, you have a partner."

"You mean another woman?" There was a band on my left ring finger, but I had assumed it was a wedding ring. 'But it could be from a commitment ceremony? That's what gays call it?' I thought to myself.

"Yes," Aida confided. "Dr. Veronica Schwartz. She is on staff at this hospital. You haven't met her?"

Aida pointed to a picture on a cabinet next to my bed. It was a photo of a woman maybe thirty years old. She was definitely not my type from her appearance.

"No, I haven't," I said, thinking of the few visitors I had that day. There was Aida, Debbie, and that one guy who gave me the big news about bearing triplets. Him I couldn't forget. Then there was the one woman I was uncertain about. She had asked for Rachel by name. "There was one woman who visited briefly, but she wasn't the woman in the photo."

"I have heard Dr. Schwartz paged since I came to work tonight. She is probably working now."

"You don't know what happened to the real Rachel?" I wasn't interested in who or where this other was. Rachel Klein wasn't my life, and I wasn't any lesbian.

Aida shook her head. "No, we don't." Hearing that, I assumed she had traded places with me. Where did she take my Jaguar? Why didn't she get herself back to the hospital?

It was time to ask the difficult or important questions. "So, I'm pregnant with triplets?"

"Yes," Aida said, looking at the chart. "Twenty-two weeks as of last Friday."

I started doing the math in my head, and it wasn't good. 'I could be stuck in this bed for four months then.' Then I thought it was possible I would be able to go home. Then maybe the real Rachel and I could get re-swapped. That couldn't happen too soon for me.

Then I let go the biggest and noisiest gas imaginable. It was a real stink bomb, too. I was embarrassed. "Sorry about that, must have been the meatloaf."

"I'm kind of used to it," Aida said. I was surprised she barely wrinkled her nose at the odor. "Comes with the job."

Aida walked around to the other side of my bed and opened the top drawer of the bed stand. She took two books out.

"These books," Aida said, showing them to me. "What to Expect When You are Expecting, and What to Expect When You are Expecting Twins, Triplets or More will answer a lot of questions. You don't know much about pregnancy?"

"No, I don't," I answered, taking the books. It was the polite gesture, Aida was just trying to be helpful and I appreciated her talking to me. But I had no wish to brush up on anything involving pregnancy. All I knew was it lasted for nine months and was something women did. I wasn't a woman.

"They have lots of useful information," Aida said. "Like gas or flatulence being common during pregnancy."

'Oh wow, just what I always wanted to know.' I decided to bring something else up. "Why was the person I am now hospitalized?"

"Ms. Klein was having contractions," Aida explained. "Her perinatologist admitted Ms. Klein and immediately put her on terbutaline and magnesium sulfate. That is to slow or stop the contractions."

"I haven't felt anything but the babies kicking me."

"That's not unusual, neither did Mrs. Klein," Aida said, then showed me some of the printouts from the contraction monitor. "You have been having at least one to two times an hour."

"Contractions, wouldn't that mean I would have the babies now?" I asked in absolute horror of the prospect. The only benefit would be my "imprisonment" would be over.

"We are trying to prevent that," Aida explained. "Twenty-two week gestation babies can survive with a great deal of Neonatal care, but the chances are more likely they would die."

I didn't want to talk about or think about giving birth. Right now my only goal was trying to stay comfortable until I got swapped back. "I was told I couldn't lower the bed. Why?"

"To keep the babies weight off your cervix," Aida again explained to me. "Triplet pregnancies are automatically high risk. The uterus is only so large and with three babies inside, room is at a premium and the babies often put pressure on the mother's cervix causing it to dilate prematurely. You were put in the Trendellenburg position, feet up and head down to prevent further dilation."

I listened to Aida carefully, but she might as well been talking Greek to me. Whatever you called the position I was in, VanDellenburg, Della Street, Hamburger, it was uncomfortable as hell. I was surprised to not be feeling a blood rush.

"Will I always have to be like this?" I asked.

"Maybe not, but the doctor would have to change your orders," Aida replied.

'Oh, just great.' I thought about how long it may be 'til the change of orders, but knew it would be a waste of time. I was already getting the distinct impression I'd be like this until either the babies were born or I got shifted back.

"Ms. Klein's cervix was found to be dilating at seventeen weeks," Aida said, reading from the chart. "A cerclage was performed. That is a cervical stitch. The good news is the cerclage appears to be holding."

'Great, just what I always wanted to know.' Then I heard a page. It was for Aida to go to another room.

"I hope I answered your questions," Aida said.

"Yes, thank you, thanks for also keeping me company." I did appreciate Aida's company.

Aida took something out of her pocket. It was a pill in a wrapper. "This is to help you sleep. Do you want to take it?" I shook my head. "I've got to leave now, I'll let you try to rest."

Aida left me in the room. I was feeling tired, so I decided to turn off the room light and try to get some sleep.

*****

It was a little past 2 a.m. when the Wilsons finally reached their hotel room. After collecting their bags at SFO the couple was only able to hail a cab approximately an hour ago. Because of the chaotic road conditions, the three-mile ride had taken over a half hour.

John and Peg were lucky. First, that the airport Marriott had rooms available, secondly that they were able to rent one. There was a young woman still working the check-in desk.

John followed his wife, who insisted on carrying their luggage himself. Not that she could have probably carried it. Like most women, Mrs. Wilson had packed clothing equal to several bowling balls in weight in two large Samsonite suitcases.

Taking the key, Peg Wilson opened room 314's door. Once that was accomplished, the bride turned bridegroom turned around and picked up her husband and carried her into the room.

"Put me down!" John said, embarrassed to be carried like this. Only the night before she had done the same to Peg.

"I thought I'd have my turn," Peg said as he went back to grab the couple's bags from the hallway. Once back inside and after closing the door, the newlywed saw his husband absolutely scowling at him. "What's the big fuss? I thought it was kind of fun."

"Fun?" John asked in disbelief. "I'm you and you are me. What is fun about that?"

"Oh, I don't know. This could be interesting for a few days," Peg said, coming up to John from behind and putting his arms around her. The former man instantly pulled herself free.

"Don't get any ideas," John said, seeing the smirk on his wife's face. "Aren't you in the least bit worried about what happened today?"

"Not really. I figure there has to be a reason, and if there is, there has to be a way a way of reversing it," Peg replied, stepping closer to his husband. 'Funny, she really looks so sexy when angry.'

John knew what was on Peg's mind. It had been on hers until the shift. The man was getting closer to her, but she wouldn't have sex. Not like this. "Don't start getting any ideas."

"Why not? It's our honeymoon." Peg said, then drew his husband in and began to kiss her. The former man wasn't happy about this and started pounding her fists on her former body.

Finally John freed herself. "Not with me, you won't." She instantly dashed around her husband and into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind her.

A frustrated Peg knocked on the bathroom door. "John, come out, please. You can't spend the whole evening in there."

Unfortunately, that was exactly what John Wilson planned on doing. This was hardly the honeymoon either Wilson had visualized.

*****

Maybe I should have taken the sleeping pill offered by Aida. I found it very difficult to fall asleep despite feeling tired. The reason being I just couldn't get comfortable. Most of this probably arose from the fact that I normally preferred to sleep on my stomach. Something that was impossible in my present condition.

So for hours I tossed and turned, cursing all along about the spot I was in at the moment and how unfair it was. Despite being told not to, I lowered the bed for a short time. This immediately brought a kick boxing class into session. I put the bed back up in its previous position.

When I did get to sleep it wouldn't last for long. Bedpan time came every two to three hours even while sleeping. Then at about 4 a.m. the babies inside me began to get slightly restless. That lasted for about a half hour.

Aida came back to the room at a little after 6 a.m. to check my blood pressure and temperature. We didn't talk much; I was very irritable from the poor night's sleep. As I was beginning to learn, nursing shifts were approximately 7-8 affairs and I would have two nurses a day.

By 7:30 a.m. I was starving for something to eat and no breakfast had yet arrived. Buzzing the nurse's station, I was told breakfast usually arrived sometime between 8 and 9 a.m. This only increased my irritability.

Having neither my customary early breakfast nor my morning newspaper, I turned on the television. The networks were still covering the shift and its aftermath. I watched this for thirty minutes and with each minute my irritability increased, even turning to anger. The newscasters were saying that a cure for the shift was not expected. I could be stuck like this permanently.

About 8:15 my nurse arrived to say hello. Her name was Sue and she was in a very cheerful mood, which I was not. I avoided the temptation to lash out at my new nurse.

I tried calling Lilah again. The television news had said that the airlines weren't flying at this time. However, the phone lines were still apparently clogged with callers and I only got that damned recording again. After ten minutes of trying I abandoned the effort temporarily, but pledged to get Lilah to the hospital before day's end.

It was 8:45 when my breakfast finally arrived. As I was beginning to learn, I had to take insulin before any meal. Fortunately, Sue came to the room almost immediately and I then dug right into the scrambled eggs and toast.

The less said about the eggs the better. They had almost no taste, but with little choice I devoured them. If I was in this hospital for any protracted length of time, I would either have to order different food or do the unthinkable, use ketchup on eggs.

After that chore was done I just lay in bed. I was both irritable and even angry at my predicament. There had to be some way out of this. There was no way in the world I was going to remain a woman or give birth to three babies.

The boredom wasn't helping, either. Other than the depressing news, there was little of interest on television. Talk shows, game shows and reruns. Thinking it might be good for some comic relief, I decided to look up flatulence in one of the books Aida had shown me. I was still blowing gas at an incredible rate.

I had just found the chapter on flatulence when I got a visitor. It was the still nameless Asian woman from the day before. From her appearance I deduced she was a doctor, there was a stethoscope around her neck.

"Hello, you're back," I said to my visitor.

"Yes," the woman replied, as if she was nervous being in my room. She slowly approached my bed. "How are you doing?"

"Lousy," was my reply. No use in lying, my mood was horrible. "You must be Dr. Veronica Schwartz."

I saw Veronica was slightly taken aback by my knowing who she was, but the Doctor recovered quickly. "Yes, I am. Who told you?"

"One of the nurses." I decided not to name Aida to avoid getting her in trouble. Even if I hated my situation, the nurse had been kind to me. "I kind of guessed, too. You were shifted then?"

"Yes, with one of the nurses," Dr. Schwartz admitted. I guessed from her appearance that the nurse had been a Filipina. I knew Philippine born nurses were heavily recruited to work in the United States. Eventually Veronica would tell me she did switch with a Filipina nurse named Rosalita Lopez who worked in the pediatric oncology unit. Unlike the doctor, the nurse didn't accept the shift very well.

"I'm really a man," I said confessing. If this woman was being open with me, I had to be the same with her. "My name is Matthew or Matt Snyder."

"Hello, Matt," Veronica replied without any emotion.

"Did you ever find out what happened to Rachel?" I asked, getting right to the point.

"No, I haven't." Veronica may have been upset, but she was hiding her emotions.

"I wonder where she took my car."

"You were driving a car when the shift happened?"

"Yes, I was on the 101, headed to Milbrae," I said. "Your girlfriend must have traded places with me. I just wonder where she went."

Trading with Rachel Klein was possible, but not likely. But I was still in a state of semi-denial at the time. Anyone on the planet could have ended up being me, and there was a strong possibility that the person like many others had crashed the car after being thrust unexpectedly into the role of driver.

Veronica ignored my concern for my car. It mattered little compared to a human life in her opinion. The room just stayed silent for about a minute, until I spoke up. "You're a doctor here?"

"Actually, I'm still doing my residency," Veronica said. "This is my last year."

"You must be very busy then?"

"This is the first time I have taken a break since yesterday afternoon." Right about then I let go another murderous and noisy gas. Veronica was unflustered by this but went to my bedside table and picked up a spray bottle and started to give the air a few squirts.

"Thanks. You know, gas and pregnancy go together," I half joked but got ignored. "You must be some kind of pediatric doctor I guess."

"Yes, but I'm working in the pediatric oncology wing now."

"And you and Rachel, the person I am now, were girlfriends?" I asked. "I mean, you two were lesbians."

"Yes, we were," Veronica admitted, not bothered by my personal question.

The small talk with Veronica was nice but I was still highly irritable due to my situation, so I decided to cut right to what was my biggest concern. "So, are you going to find Rachel so we can get back in the right bodies?"

For the first time I saw Veronica begin to get upset. My question had definitely touched a nerve. Tears were beginning to form in her eyes as she started to speak. "I don't know if Rachel can be found. Even so, we can't switch you back."

"No, no! I can't be this," I demanded in anger. My state of denial hadn't budged an inch. "There has to be a way."

"Rachel is gone," Veronica said, trying to choke back tears. "You are pregnant with our children."

"Yes, I am. With triplets! I am not a mother," I said interrupting.

Veronica just sat in a chair next to bed. She was both speechless and weeping.

"I'm not a woman. I'm not a mother," I repeated, expressing the anger I was feeling at the time. At the same time the babies inside me started kicking again. "I don't care. I will not give birth to these children. This is my life. Not some stupid..."

There, I vented my anger at what had happened to me. All through this Veronica just sat weeping in silence. The pain she was suffering was obvious, but I was oblivious to everyone but myself.

"I'll check myself out of this hospital..."

Veronica finally spoke up. "If you do, you will go into labor. My children won't survive."

"They aren't even your children!" I said, striking a very low blow. I didn't know it, but I was contracting more frequently. My nurse Sue came into the room at this time, the nurse's station had seen the monitor. "I don't care, if I'm to be stuck like this it's my life, my body and I don't want to be a mother. I'll have an abortion and you can't stop it."

This proved too much for Veronica, who then fled the room. Sue just stared at me with her arms crossed. "Are you done?"

I was about to say something when I felt a sharp pain in my lower back. The pain didn't go away immediately, it held and then faded.

Sue came over to my bedside. Picking up the monitor printout she showed it to me. "You are contracting, that was your third in about five minutes. I suggest you calm down or you will be a mother before the day is over. To three dead babies."

Sue's words plus the contraction had given me a reality check. It was time to calm down; there was nothing that I could do about my present situation. At least not for the moment.

After listening to some instructions from Sue, I settled back into bed and tried to relax; I was still certain about one thing. I didn't want to be a mother.

*****

I did settle down, and about a half hour later even managed to fall asleep. Later on Sue would inform me that my contractions did slow down but were still high.

The short nap was refreshing, however I was still faced with being totally bored. I turned on the television and little had changed. The Networks were still talking about the shift, and of course CNBC was not an option. The financial markets were closed and who knows when they would reopen.

As to something to read, I just had those two pregnancy books. I still wasn't accepting that my being this pregnant woman was more than a temporary inconvenience. So I just left the books sitting there. In other words, I just stared at the walls.

Lunch came shortly after 1 p.m. A tuna salad sandwich was a definite improvement over breakfast. Just as I was completing the meal, I received another visitor.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Klein," said a mature but attractive looking woman perhaps in her early forties. "I heard you were rather upset this morning."

"Yes, I was," was my reply. "Are you my doctor?"

"Yes, my name is Dr. Susan Crowe," the doctor replied. "And you were shifted yesterday?"

"I was, my name is Matthew Snyder."

"Most of my patients were shifted. Some like yourself used to be men."

'Big deal. Now, can you get me back to my right body? I think I know the answer. It's fat chance,' I thought as Dr. Crowe examined my chart.

"I'm going to increase your terbutaline dosage," Dr. Crowe began to say. "You really must not get upset like you did this morning."

"That's not easy. I never wanted to be a mother."

"I think we all need to do the best we can do now. It isn't easy for anyone."

I just sat there in silence. What was my next step to be? Discharge myself from the hospital? Stay here and hope that the real Rachel shows up and we can be switched back? What if Rachel doesn't arrive or we can't be switched back? Then what do I do? Have these babies? Or abort them?

"I still don't want to be a mother."

"You're upset and confused," Dr. Crowe said in what I thought was a condescending tone of voice.

"I am not confused," I replied, trying to control my temper.

"Confused or not, you need to remain calm," Dr. Crowe reiterated. "I'm going to prescribe you medication for anxiety."

'Great, can you give me something to knock me out for eighteen weeks until after I give birth while you're at it?'

"Any questions you want to ask?" Dr. Crowe asked. I was sure she had other patients to see.

'Where do I start? I got lots of questions I want to ask,' I thought and decided I might as well begin with the obvious. "What do we do if I don't want these babies?"

Dr. Crowe frowned at me. "What do you mean?"

"If I want to end the pregnancy," I said, and then swallowed hard. "If I wanted to have an abortion."

Dr. Crowe's frown hardened. Obstetricians preferred to deliver babies, not kill them or rather murder them as the Right to Lifers called abortion.

I was of two minds on the subject. As a man I did feel abortion wasn't right and was really murder. I kept these views to myself because it wasn't PC for a man to say that. The pro-choice crowd would say what business of it was mine. I wasn't a woman.

Now the shoe was on the other foot, literally. I was a pregnant female now, and a very reluctant one at that. It hadn't occurred to me yet, but there had to be millions of men like me in the world right now. Finding themselves in a pregnant woman's body and in the process of deciding what to do. But I made a bet I was one of a very few expecting triplets.

So now I was the owner of a female body and life. I was pregnant and had the choice or option of having an abortion. What was I to decide? The moral objections I had as a male seemed insignificant now, or did they? Wasn't it still murder? But on the other hand I definitely didn't want to be a mother and sure as hell I'd go insane if I had to spend four months in the hospital like this.

"If you want to terminate your pregnancy," Dr. Crowe said, still frowning; she personally found abortion distasteful on moral grounds, "I can make sure you see the proper physician. Is that what you want?"

I just laid there in silence. What if the real Rachel was found? What if a way could be found to reverse us? Could I live with myself if I had the babies aborted? I had a great deal to think about, but decided to ask another question. "What is the latest I could make the choice to terminate?"

Dr. Crowe consulted my chart before answering. "You're at twenty-two weeks now. Which is on the late side, but still in the second trimester which lasts till week twenty-seven."

"If I didn't have it by week twenty-seven, I'd have to go the full forty or till I gave birth then. Is that what you mean?" I asked.

"No, they can be done later." Partial birth abortions were obviously even more distasteful to the doctor. By the third trimester a baby's chance of living was excellent, even at twenty-eight weeks. "Most triplet mothers deliver in between weeks thirty and thirty-three."

I was already doing the math. At the outside that was another ten to eleven weeks. 'But in this hospital like this?' I still didn't relish the prospect.

"Some mothers go into labor much earlier, even at twenty-five weeks and their children survive and grow up normally. But we prefer to get the mother as close to term as possible."

"What is considered term?" I asked. Twenty-five weeks even sounded better. Still I was wavering and uncertain about what to do.

"Thirty-seven weeks," Dr. Crowe replied. She could see my uncertainty. "Why don't you think about what you want to do? There still may be a solution to everyone's situation."

'Again, fat chance,' I thought, but the alternative was not appealing to me, no matter what option I chose. If I were religious I would be praying for a miracle.

"Maybe you should talk it over with your girlfriend, Dr. Schwartz," Dr. Crowe added.

"She isn't my girlfriend," I replied, barely hiding my annoyance.

"Dr. Schwartz was the partner of the person you became. It may be wise or prudent to consult her." Dr. Crowe started getting ready to leave the room. "Please try to remain calm, not just for the babies' sake but your own. Triplet pregnancies are risky for both mother and children. If you have more questions, write them down. One of my partners or I will check in on you daily. Good afternoon, Ms. Klein."

"Good-bye, Doctor," I said, and then watched her depart.

*****

Next on the agenda for me was trying to contact Lilah again. The phones were finally functioning or semi-functioning. After three or four tries the number I was dialing finally got through.

First I tried calling Lilah at home, but she wasn't there. I tried her cell phone next but it wasn't turned on. That left only one alternative. Did my workaholic girlfriend go back to work the day after the shift? I was about to find out.

"Offices of Donahue, Klinger, Dunn, McKay and Schultz, may I help you?" said the unfamiliar voice.

"May I speak to Lilah Freeman, please?"

"Please hold." I was immediately placed on hold. Looking down at the hand holding the phone receiver I looked at the nails on my right hand. They were long and polished and I wondered if I could have them clipped or shortened.

"Lilah Freeman's office," said an unfamiliar voice. Maybe it was Agnes, my girlfriend's secretary.

"Hello, Agnes, I need to talk to Lilah."

"May I ask who is calling?"

"Agnes," I could sense the secretary was having a hard time figuring out who it might be after the prior day's events, "It's me, Matt Snyder. Please put me through."

I was again put on hold, and this time it lasted for over two minutes.

"This is Lilah Freeman, how may I help you?"

"Lilah, it's me, Matt."

"Hello, Matt, how are you?"

"Oh, I'm just hunky dory," I said, sounding as sarcastic as I could. "Being on pregnancy bedrest expecting triplets is definitely the highlight of my life."

"My flight was canceled. I don't know when I'll be going to New York."

'Like I fucking care! Control your temper, Matt, you don't want to be giving birth today.' I refrained from speaking what I really thought. "I told you that yesterday."

"I had to try. The meeting was important."

I decided to change subjects to the one I was calling for. "So when are you going to come down to the hospital?"

"I don't know," Lilah replied. "The freeways are bad. People are being advised to stay home."

"But you're in the office now. You must be going back home. Where did you sleep last night?"

"I stayed at Charlotte's," Lilah replied. Her best friend lived in the Nob Hill section of San Francisco. My girlfriend's law office was in the city's downtown. "She said I could stay with her in the meantime."

'Charlotte, Charlotte, Charlotte. I am sick and tired of fucking Charlotte,' I thought, and then felt another pain in my lower back. 'I'd better calm down.'

"As soon as the roads are safe I expect you to come down here," I said. Lilah was not one to take orders without complaint. She always bristled at others trying to control her. That was why she lived in Northern California instead of close to her parents and siblings. She had three brothers and four sisters.

"I will, I just don't know what good it will do," Lilah replied frankly in a tone of voice that just didn't seem right to me. Maybe it was the shift and her being in a new body, but something about her was bugging me.

"You stop by here anyway. I'll stay in touch."

"Do that," was Lilah's reply, and then she hung up the phone.

Putting the phone back down, I decided to relax as I had been ordered. If I didn't, I knew what the probable result would be. Me giving birth to three babies who would probably die. Besides wanting to delay this as long as possible, I do have a conscience. I would have a tough time living with myself if I went into labor because of my being upset. But wouldn't my conscience also feel abortion was wrong? No, there had to be a solution or cure for this shift. I'd be back in my own body and this would all be forgotten.

Sue was back in the room about twenty minutes later. She had brought the pill for anxiety that my doctor had prescribed.

"I'm sorry about before." Sue wasn't at fault for my predicament. "Will you please accept my apology?"

"No apology necessary for me," Sue replied.

"I'm just so upset about..." I hated saying it or even thinking of my predicament. "Being pregnant. I wasn't ready for it."

"Right now I think we all have to do the best we can do with our lives," Sue replied. "They may still end up finding a way to reverse this."

"Yes, don't give up hope."

"Exactly." Sue then changed topics. "When did you finish eating your lunch?"

Thinking for about a half minute, I replied. "1:30, I think."

"I'll be back at 3:30 to measure your blood sugar. Remember, you must take your insulin before eating your meals."

"Am I diabetic?"

"Ms. Klein was borderline," Sue explained. "And therefore prone to gestational diabetes. I can show you later how to administer the insulin yourself."

"Okay." Then I didn't know what to say or if I should ask. "I'm just completely bored in here."

"There is television. Ms. Klein also has a laptop computer in the desk drawer. She liked to use it to go online."

I had email at home and work but had never been much of an Internet user. "I usually like to read. The newspaper or books."

"There were no newspapers this morning," Sue said. Yes, probably a result of the shift. "But we have a cart full of books available. You can also read those pregnancy books. I'll bring the cart if you want."

"Thank you, please do that."

"You're welcome. By the way, if you don't mind me saying this, I feel you owe Dr. Schwartz an apology. You were very unkind to her and I feel it was not deserved. This is not an easy time for her, either."

I just stared at Sue. Not knowing what else to say at this point I replied, "I'll take that under advisement."

Sue left the room and I decided to see if there was any good news on television. Then I felt the oddest feeling inside me. It was the babies.

"Who in there is playing with my belly button?"

*****

Whoever was playing with my belly button tired of it after a few minutes. Instead I felt like the crew inside me had taken up hoops practice. I felt like a basketball backboard now.

There wasn't any good news on television. Instead there were scenes of riots and looting from all over the world. Plus, neither why the shift had happened nor a cure had been found. I quickly decided to turn off the television.

Sue did come back with the cart full of books as promised. Most of the books available were of the romance variety and hardly appealed to me. After some thought, I settled on Jimmy Carter's Presidential memoirs, Keeping Faith and James Clavell's Noble House. I postponed reading the pregnancy books, but I had a funny feeling I'd be getting to them eventually.

My dinner came at 5:45, it was baked fish and rice. Before eating, Sue came in and gave me my insulin but not after first showing me how to do it. Maybe tomorrow I will start giving myself the injections. That's of course if I'm still stuck here.

The fish was hardly up to the quality of San Francisco's best seafood restaurants, but I ate it. Around 6:30 Sue came back into the room.

"Sue, I will apologize to Dr. Schwartz. I was wrong earlier."

"Yes, you were," Sue replied. "Would you like me to call her for you? So she can come up here and you two can talk. Dr. Schwartz was very upset earlier."

"Not now. I want to think of what I want to say. Also, I want to be a little calmer. I don't want to get upset like this morning."

"One of the nurses can call her for you since I'm off starting tonight for three days," Sue explained. "Or you should find her beeper number on your cell phone. I believe it's in the drawer on the other side of the bed."

Yes, I had already found Rachel Klein's cell phone among other things. I hadn't really delved too deep into the drawer, but I had noticed female makeup and an organizer earlier.

"How are my contractions?" I hadn't felt one in about two hours, but I had already learned that sometimes I didn't feel them.

"Better than earlier today," Sue said without referring to my morning outburst. "But still high."

"Thanks Sue, thank you for everything." I was starting to choke up on tears. Why was I crying again?

"You're welcome." Sue gave me a rare smile. "We, I mean the nurses and doctors and staff, are here to help you."

"I know, I know you want to help me," I said, and by now I was crying uncontrollably. 'Damn it, why am I crying like some woman? Be strong, you're a man.' "It's just so lonely, and I'm frightened."

"I understand the lonely part, but why frightened? Because you may give birth?" Sue asked.

"Yes, giving birth," I admitted as my tears began to slow.

"I'm a mother of two, and I won't lie to you that it's easy or pleasant," Sue said sincerely. "But the medical professionals here are some of the best. They will make it a safe experience. You'll do fine."

I just lay there looking at Sue. The emotions I was feeling were so new, and combined with this pregnancy were just overwhelming.

"Have faith in us. Listen to the doctors, listen to the nurses. We want you and those three precious babies to make it to a safe delivery. If you work and cooperate with us, you will."

"I'll try."

"You don't really want to abort them, do you?"

I swallowed hard. "No, I don't."

"I thought so," Sue smiled. "You need to tell Dr. Schwartz that, too. A cure or solution for the Shift may be found, who knows right now. If not, you have the children in a few months and then you can decide what to do with them."

Sue then left the room. I just laid there in silence. Thinking about my fate and what I wanted to do. Did I want to give birth or did I want to abort? It wasn't a simple decision, I wanted to do neither. What I wanted was my male life back.

*****

Around 8:00 I needed to page a nurse. After maybe two minutes, one arrived in my room. "Hello, Ms. Klein, what do you need?"

"I've got to go poop," I replied. The last time I had used the bedpan, Sue had inadvertently put it out of reach. This was also to be my first poop since the shift. And in a bedpan. I wasn't looking forward to the experience.

Instead of getting my bedpan, the nurse lowered my bedrail and then my bed.

"I thought I needed to use the bedpan."

"Not for this," the nurse laughed. And what a laugh it was. Then she went to the corner of the room where something was hidden from view. It was a commode.

'I hate not being able to do things for myself, but this is better than the bedpan.' With the nurse's assistance I was done with my 'business' in less than ten minutes and back in my bed.

"Thanks, what's your name?"

"My name is Sue. I'll be your nurse tonight."

"Oh, I had a Sue during the day, too."

"I know," Sue laughed. Again that laugh, it was quite distinctive. "There are five Sues between the antepartum and L&D units."

"L&D?" I asked Jolly Sue. Yes, that was the nickname I gave her.

"Labor and Delivery." Jolly Sue explained that the second floor at LPCH was where the Birthplace or Labor and Delivery unit was. One located on the North side of the hospital mostly for delivering babies and postpartum care. The latter, where I was located, was on the South side. The south side was the antepartum unit, where mothers prone to premature labor were hospitalized.

There was something else I wanted to ask. I had noticed it as soon as Jolly Sue had walked into the room. "You aren't pregnant?"

"Yes I am, twenty weeks this Thursday."

"Congratulations," I told my nurse, and she said thank you. "And you're still working?"

"I'll work right up to the end," Jolly Sue replied. "Same as I did with both my sons."

"You didn't shift then?"

"No, but my family is all messed up," Jolly Sue replied. "We're all trying to cope the best we can."

"I'm trying, too. Before the shift I was a guy."

"Same thing happened to my husband. We were in church when the shift happened."

"Really?"

"Yes, and he's pregnant now, too. Thirty-six weeks."

"How's he doing? How about you? If I'm being nosy, tell me to butt out."

"No, I don't mind telling," Jolly Sue replied. "I wouldn't say he or she is too thrilled about it, but is hanging in so far."

'I'd like to be just hanging in, but Jolly Sue's husband isn't on bedrest or expecting triplets!'

"What are you expecting?"

"Another boy, we just found out last week. I had my heart set on finally having a girl, but the shift did it instead," Jolly Sue laughed.

"What do you mean?"

"My two-year-old Joey, he shifted with another two-year-old at church. But this one was a girl."

"How's he or she doing?"

"Great so far," Jolly Sue began to laugh. "Other than the slight anatomical change, she acts like nothing happened."

I laughed my head off at the 'slight anatomical change'. It was the first time I had laughed since the shift. "Joey will by the time she gets to puberty."

"Probably sooner," Jolly Sue laughed. "I've got to go see my other patients. I'll be back around 9:30 with your sleeping pill."

"Thanks, Sue."

*****

I learned my lesson from Sunday night. When Sue came back with the sleeping pill, I took it this time. By 10 p.m. I was sound asleep.

Other than two bedpan calls, I managed to sleep 'til Sue paid me a visit around 6:30. The babies even co-operated by sleeping most of the night. There was one brief period of activity that occurred around one of my two pit stops.

So my mood was much improved on Tuesday as compared to the first two days in the hospital. I hadn't accepted what had happened to me or was yet reconciled to my fate, but at least I had slept well and learned my plight wasn't a solo journey.

I tried turning on the television again, but after fifteen minutes turned it back off. The news was still depressing and it looked more and more like I was doomed to a female existence the rest of my life. This brought on another bout of crying which caused the crew to liven up. I was rapidly concluding that the children I was bearing could feel my emotions.

Breakfast came shortly after 8:30. I had ordered French toast this time, and while it was an improvement on scrambled eggs, it still left a lot to be desired.

Then Dr. Crowe came and visited. It seems my doctor sees me every day even if just for a few minutes. She was happy to see I was settled down from the previous day. About the same time I met my nurse for the day, her name was Brenda.

I was about to settle in for a day of reading books and watching television when I got Rachel Klein's cell phone out. The number I dialed was Veronica Schwartz's beeper. After entering the room number I waited.

As the time passed I began to wonder if Veronica would return my call. But twenty minutes later the room phone began to ring.

"Hi, Veronica, I would like us to talk. Can you stop by here sometime today?" I could hear hesitancy from the doctor's voice. It was obvious she was still hurt by what I said the day before. "I apologize for yesterday, I'd like to talk to you."

A minute later I turned off the cell phone. Veronica Schwartz was busy that day but hoped to be off from work around 7 p.m. She planned on stopping by then.

'Now what do I do?' I asked myself. Not just for the day but for the days ahead. It was time to think.

*****

It was 7:15 when Veronica finally arrived in the room. I had only just finished eating dinner, a barely edible slice of lasagna.

The rest of the day hadn't been all that much better. I had spent much of it either reading Jimmy Carter's memoirs, watching television reruns or simply thinking. I had also spent over an hour reading excerpts from the book What to Expect when you are expecting Twins, Triplets or More. Some of what I had read only increased my anxiety. Triplet pregnancies were high-risk for both the babies and the mother. Still, my day had been a long and tedious one. How many more such days were ahead of me?

Veronica came into the room very sheepishly. Like she wasn't sure about the reception she was about to get. I didn't blame her after my behavior of the day before. She just stood at the foot of my bed looking at me.

"Please pull up a chair," I said. "We need to talk." Complying with what I asked, Veronica took a chair and sat next to the left side of my bed. "How was your day today?"

"All right, but very busy," Veronica replied.

"I guess the Shift has the hospital going crazy?"

"Yes, a little," Veronica replied. I could tell she was feeling very uneasy.

"What department do you work in?"

"Pediatric oncology. Like I sad yesterday, this is the fifth and last year of my residency."

"Oncology, that's cancer, right?" I asked, and Veronica said yes. "That must be difficult, working with children like that. I mean, it must be emotionally draining."

"Sometimes it is, but the work is rewarding."

"You must work long hours."

"Sixty to one hundred hours a week."

I knew there were only one hundred and sixty-eight hours in a week. That didn't leave much time for anything else. "But didn't you say your residency was almost over?"

"Yes, this is my final year."

"Have you heard anything from Rachel?"

"No, I haven't," Veronica replied, barely concealing her emotions on that touchy matter.

'It's time to stop beating around the bush, Matt. Get to the point,' I thought. So far all Veronica and I had done was engage in small talk. So I swallowed hard and got to the point.

"Veronica, I want to apologize for yesterday. I said some very cruel things to you, and I am sincerely sorry for having done so."

The medical resident just looked back at me. I had been very harsh to her; she wasn't to blame for my present situation.

"Veronica, please forgive me and let's start over again."

I could see Veronica was thinking. The last few days had to be an emotional train wreck for her. First the shift, then Rachel being gone and finally my temper tantrum.

"We need to talk about these children," I said.

"You were talking about having an abortion." I could see the poor woman choking back tears. "You aren't still planning..."

"No, I'm not." Truthfully, I couldn't believe what I was volunteering to do. But abortion was murder to me, and I couldn't do that either. "I'd like us to work together until I give birth."

Veronica instantly began to cry. "I will do anything for you as long as you don't harm the babies."

"I won't, I promise. But when this is over, I'm going back to my life," I said, swallowing hard. "They will be your responsibility then."

As if on cue the babies recommenced kickboxing practice inside me. "Are you guys or gals trying to say hello to your Mommy?"

"Are they kicking right now?" Veronica asked. It seemed this cheered her up some.

"Yes, they're having kick boxing practice right now. Before someone was playing with my belly button."

"They used to do that to Rachel, too." Veronica hesitated for a moment. "Can I feel it? If you don't mind?"

"Sure," was my reply. I was trying to get used to both my lack of independence and being a human guinea pig. LPCH was also a teaching hospital, with many medical students from Stanford. I had been fortunate not to be examined by one yet.

Veronica got up out of the chair and stood by the bed, putting her hand on my abdomen. It was about ten seconds before a baby kicked. "Feel that?"

"No," Veronica replied. I was a little surprised to hear a negative reply. The kick sure felt strong inside of me. Then I was kicked again. And again. And again. "Now, those I felt," Veronica smiled.

"Regular Radio City Rockettes, aren't they?" Veronica laughed at my description, and then went back to her chair. "I want us to work together."

"Thank you, you don't know how much it means to me," Veronica replied, choking back the tears again.

"This isn't going to be easy, so I'll need your help," I said. Thinking of what lie ahead of me over the next few weeks or months I thought my sanity would be badly tested. I was going to need some assistance on things to avoid losing my mind.

"Anything."

"The boredom is probably going to drive me nuts," I answered. "I like to read. Like books and the morning newspapers."

"There hasn't been a newspaper since the Shift."

I believed Veronica. The newspapers, unlike the television, had probably been having a hard time rounding up their staffs. "If and when they start publishing again, please get one for me every day."

"Will do."

"I have lots of books at my home. I'd like you to maybe go fetch some. When you have time." I could have asked Lilah, but my soon to be ex-girlfriend had already shown her lack of interest in my welfare since the Shift. The decision had already been made not to count on her.

"Where do you live?" Veronica asked. I told her in Mountain View, that wasn't that far away but there were other difficulties. "How would I get in your house? I wouldn't know where to look."

Veronica had a point, but I had already thought of the solution. I had a key hidden underneath a stone in the garden. I explained that to Veronica. "With directions you can find the house and key, and once inside, the things I request. It won't be much."

"I won't be able to get down there for a few days. My work keeps me busy."

"I understand," I replied. If I was going to be stuck in this bed for some time, I'd want to make my life more comfortable but knew Veronica would be limited in some areas of assistance. "I'd like a blank VHS tape to tape shows on TV if I want."

"You may want to write a list of what you want," Veronica said, and she had a point. "I'll try to get anything you want."

"Thanks, I promise I'll do my best for your children."

"Thank you, you don't know how much that means to me and Rachel."

"If Rachel is ever found and they find a solution, I will change back."

"No problem."

"The boredom and loneliness are going to be bad enough, but giving birth will be worse."

"Have you read those books at all?" Veronica was talking about the two pregnancy books I had in the room.

"A little."

"They can help you a lot. Also, ask the doctor or me any questions you have."

"I will."

"Do you mind," Veronica walked over to the dresser/television set and opened a drawer and begun taking some things out. It was clothing. "I think I'd better get my things out of here."

"Did you stay here with Rachel some?"

"No, she only got admitted last Friday, but I would have." Veronica had gone to the bathroom closet and had grabbed a bag. She began placing the clothing in the bag.

"I guess those are your clothes. Don't have much for any clothing but hospital gowns myself at the moment." My joke seemed to have little effect on the resident. "I'm lonely here, I don't mind if you stop by. Besides, these babies are really yours."

Veronica stopped packing and looked at me. "You don't mind?"

"No, not at all," I replied. Two odd things were entering my mind. Or maybe one odd thing and something I could use right now. "Do you know what I want now?"

"No."

"I'd love a chocolate shake or Sundae."

Veronica smiled for the first time since I met her. "Rachel loved Chocolate shakes. But she complained they made her fat."

"I'm beyond fat."

"I agree," Veronica laughed for maybe a split second. "But you aren't allowed a shake."

"Because of the diabetes?" I asked, and Veronica nodded yes. "The other thing I could use is a back massage. You couldn't help me with that?"

"Yes, I can." Veronica put the bag down in a nearby chair and came to alongside my bed. She then began giving me a massage. She started behind my shoulders and began working her way lower.

"Lower," I said. Veronica really did have gentle hands and the massage felt great.

"One other thing," Veronica mentioned while giving me the massage. "You can use Rachel's laptop. There's AOL on it if you'd like to go online. You could even start a diary if you want. Rachel did, it's kind of neat writing what you are feeling day to day when pregnant, or that's what Rachel used to say."

"I'll think about it." My opinion was split on the subject. Using AOL might help pass the time of day a little. Writing a diary on the other hand was something I thought girls or women did. Despite my new body I was a male to the core.

"There are some good triplet sources online. The Triplet Connection you might find interesting," Veronica said, finishing the massage. "How did you like the massage?"

"It was good," I replied, and meant it. Having Veronica around would prove to be helpful in more ways than one. "By the way, you can leave your things. I don't mind."

"You sure?"

"Positive. We've got to work as a team." Then I felt that sensation again. "Someone is playing with my belly button again."

"I'm going to go home tonight. If you don't mind, I need to get a good night's rest."

"Do you mind if I ask a few quick questions?"

"Go ahead."

"What am I having? I mean, boys? Girls? A little of both?"

"Two girls and one boy, or Girl/Boy/Girl," Veronica answered.

"Did you and Rachel have names picked out already?"

"We're, or Rachel and I, are Jewish. We aren't supposed to name the children yet," Veronica explained. "But we were planning on the names Sarah, Mariel and Benjamin."

"Okay, those are nice names by the way," I replied. My own religious faith was kind of ambiguous. My parents were Christian but not churchgoers, and I could count the times I had been in a church in the last twenty years on two hands. Usually for other friend's weddings or for a funeral. "If you don't mind answering, I'd like to ask you a few things about you and Rachel. Tell me to butt out if I'm too personal."

"Ask what you want to know."

"You and Rachel were gay?"

"Yes."

"I've got to guess she got pregnant by In vitro fertilization then?"

"Yes, Rachel did."

"The father, do you know him?"

"Yes," Veronica replied. She was freely answering my questions. If I was going to play the role of baby incubator in the weeks ahead I should know some things about whom I was now.

'Baby incubator, that's what I am now. Not a mother. I don't want to be anyone's mother,' I thought, and this was what I truly believed. The only reason I was even taking on the job of baby incubator was I couldn't live with the guilt if I caused these babies to die. I might be selfish and self-centered but I never caused deliberate physical harm to anyone in my life.

"The father, his name is Stephen and he is a friend of Rachel and I."

"Okay, I was just curious." I lay there in bed thinking if there was anything else I wanted to ask at the moment. Currently my gaze was on the massive stomach I now possessed.

"Anything else?" Veronica asked. I could see the exhaustion in her face.

"I know I'm stuck in bed, but do I get to take a shower or bath?" I asked, already feeling dirty in a few days time. Other than my hospital gown and bed sheets being changed, nothing had been done about my hygiene.

This reminded me of a visit by a Nurse's Aide named Rose yesterday. The woman changed my bed sheets without me ever getting out of bed. It was really amazing to me that this could be done.

"I don't know if Dr. Crowe will allow you showers, but you can ask," Veronica said. "If not, a nursing aide should be giving you one. I'm also willing to help you out."

"Thanks, Veronica."

"You're welcome."

"I don't have any more questions for now, so you can go ahead and go home. Are you working tomorrow?"

"Yes, Seven to Seven."

"Then get out of here, I'll see you tomorrow."

Veronica put the bag she packed back in the closet and then came back over to my bed. She bent over the bed and was about to give me a kiss but she stopped. "Good night, Matt."

"Good night, Veronica, see you tomorrow."

*****

Around 6:30 the next morning Veronica tried to slip into my room quietly. She had brought several items along with her. Two large shopping bags and a small wooden table or stand.

Despite off and on kick boxing sessions inside me, I had slept pretty decently the previous night. I was now committed to this journey, but only because I found the alternatives unsatisfactory. Jolly Sue had been my nurse for the evening, and since she had come to take my vitals a little after 6 a.m., I was awake when Veronica had entered the room.

"Hi, Veronica."

"Oh, Matt, I'm sorry, I was trying to be quiet." She was setting the table up in the corner of the room.

"It's nothing, I was already awake."

"How did you sleep last night? How are you feeling?" Veronica asked, and I said I was doing okay. "That's good. I brought you a few of the items you asked for, plus some things Rachel liked and I thought you might enjoy, too."

I was about to ask what I could possibly like that Rachel liked too when Veronica placed something on the small table she had brought. It was a small radio and possibly a CD player.

"I brought the Bose stereo from home and some CD's." Which Veronica had in a bag to show me. There were maybe twenty in all. A cursory check showed a collection of classical music like Mozart, Broadway soundtracks like Miss Saigon and Fiddler on the Roof and CD's featuring vocalists like Michael Crawford, Barbara Streisand, Lea Salonga, Diana Ross and even Tony Bennet. "I hope you can enjoy these."

"Thanks, Veronica, I appreciate it." It was a nice gesture from the woman. Actually my and Rachel Klein's musical tastes weren't all that far off. That kind of surprised me; I thought all lesbians wanted to listen to was Melissa Etheridge.

"You're welcome. Where do you want me to put these?"

"Put them on the bottom shelf," I said. The small wooden table had both a top and bottom shelf to it. "I'll ask a nurse if I want a CD put on."

Veronica did as I said. She neatly stacked the CD's on the bottom shelf for me, then came back to the bed and handed me a small remote control.

"This will let you turn the radio on and off and change stations by yourself."

"Thanks, Veronica, you really are too kind."

"You're welcome. Oh, one last thing, I got those blank videotapes for you. Where do you want them?"

"Could you put one in the VCR for me?" Veronica did as I asked and showed me a second VHS tape she had brought. She placed that one next to the VCR.

"Anything else you need right now?" Veronica asked. I knew she would have to start work shortly.

"No, nothing." Veronica had really been too kind to bring me these things. She had taken the time to do it and the woman must be exhausted. "I wish you had brought me breakfast."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'll try to do better tomorrow."

"Nothing to be sorry about. You did enough already. I just hate waiting till 8:30 or 9:00 for breakfast."

"Yes, that is kind of late," Veronica said. I had only been in the hospital three days and I already had a low regard for both the food and food service at LPCH. I didn't know which was worse. To be honest I thought the food service catered to the employee's schedules instead of their patients. What patient likes to have breakfast at 9 a.m.?

"I'm hungry now. You know, to be honest I always feel hungry," I admitted to my new friend.

"Rachel used to say the same thing," Veronica smiled.

"I wonder if it's because I'm eating for four now."

"Maybe. But the old saying is a pregnant woman is not hungry only when she is sleeping or has food in her mouth."

We shared a good laugh over that one. "You might be right," I said.

"If there isn't anything else, I've got to get going."

"No, nothing, Veronica. Thanks for everything."

"No, thank you. You really don't know how much what you're doing means to me, this is the least I can do," Veronica said, trying to avoid crying again. "If you need me, you know how to get a hold of me."

"Yes, I've got your beeper and cell phone numbers. I know you're busy and won't call unless it's important."

"If I have time I will stop by later. Oh heck, I've got to do this." Veronica bent down and gave me a hug and kiss. I truthfully felt a little uncomfortable with this. "I don't normally hug or kiss a man, but I needed to."

"This is my first time to hug and kiss a lesbian, so we're even," I kidded back.

Veronica smiled. "You are an incredible man, Matt. If I have time I will stop by later. If not, I'll see you around 7 p.m."

"Bye, Veronica," I said to my friend, who then left the room. Already wide-awake, I decided to turn on Good Morning America. But first my lips felt dry and chapped. So I reached in the nearby table drawer. I thought I might find some chapstick there.

I did find some chapstick. But I also found some photographs. Being curious, I decided to take a look at them. I immediately realized they were ultrasound photographs.

'Never seen triplets before,' I thought as I looked at the photos. Each piece of paper had three ultrasound images, with the name Rachel Klein at the top, what day the photos were taken and the medical group to which I guessed Dr. Crowe belonged.

The sixteen and eighteen week ultrasound photos clearly showed three babies. The babies that were now inside of me. You couldn't really discern too much of facial features from the photos. Truthfully, the babies looked like some monsters from outer space because the images were so blurry.

But the twenty-week ultrasound photos quickly drew my attention. First there was a marking on them, with an arrow pointing to something in two images. The arrow said boy part. Something else was obvious about one baby in the photo.

I hysterically started laughing at these photos. Benjamin's butt and dangly part were clear as day. He was mooning everyone. "What a showoff!"

*****

It was about 8:45 when Dr. Crowe came into my room. I had just completed eating breakfast.

"How are you today, Ms. Klein?" I don't know when I would ever get used to being called a Miss or Ms.

"Okay, slept pretty well last night."

"That's good," Dr. Crowe said, examining my chart. "Any complaints this morning?"

'Sure doc, where would you like me to start? That I'm really a guy but a woman now? That I'm pregnant? That I'm expecting triplets? That I'm in a hospital? On bedrest? That I will be here for another couple of weeks to three months? Sure you want to hear me bitch about all of this?' I thought.

If it was the day before I would probably have lashed out at the doctor, but today I found it funny. Why is that? I'm already accepting my role as baby incubator? Or am I having a pregnancy mood swing. In either case, it was my job now not to get upset.

"Not really."

"That's good. Have you decided what you want to do in regards to the pregnancy?"

"I'm going...I mean, I decided to have the babies," I confessed to the doctor without going into why I made the decision. "Last night I had a long conversation with Veronica Schwartz."

"So I don't need to get you any consultations then?" I told the doctor no. "I think you're making the right choice, you wouldn't really want to kill your children."

'They're not mine, doc,' I thought, controlling my temper. "No, I would not."

"Any questions today?"

"Doctor, is there any chance I would be able to do bedrest at home? Or not be on bedrest at all?"

"It's possible, but probably unlikely, Ms. Klein," the doctor said very frankly. "You have a short cervix in spite of the cerclage performed on you. Combine this with you contracting already makes you a poor candidate to do home bedrest."

'So I'm doomed to be stuck like this for weeks at least,' I thought. "How long do you think before I would give birth? I mean, an estimate."

"We don't want to deliver before twenty-five weeks," Dr. Crowe said. I was surprised babies born that premature could live, but I was learning many things. "Even then babies born that early can have very serious complications and require extensive time in the NICU. It is really best for the children if you go as long as possible."

"So what do you predict?"

The doctor evidently didn't like to make predictions. "It's too hard to tell. I've seen mothers similar to you carry almost to term or thirty-five or thirty-six weeks. I've also seen them go into labor at twenty-four weeks. It's too unpredictable. But you must really do what I and the nurses say. Doing so will improve your chances."

"I will, doctor."

"Anything else?" Doctor Crowe asked. I was slowly starting to like the doctor. She genuinely cared for me as a patient despite my ignorance and irascibility.

"I was wondering if I would be permitted to take a shower? I'm really filthy."

"I'd prefer to wait till after your next ultrasound," Dr. Crowe said, sounding sympathetic. "I want to make sure your cervix has stopped shortening first. I will order that you have daily sponge baths in the meantime. Anything else?"

"No, thanks, Doc," I answered, and the doctor then left the room. It was past 9 a.m. now and I was wondering what I would do the rest of the day. And week. And month. And next month, for a matter of fact.

*****

Wednesday, August 2, 2000

Dear Inanimate Object,

That's what you are, really. But maybe that doesn't sound right.

Dear Microchip,

What do you think? You don't think. You're just a machine. But you do spell checking so you do think sort of. Oh, what the fuck, if I'm going to bitch or tell my deepest feelings here, let me do it right.

Dear Diary,

Now that we got that done, how are you today? Strike that, you're a machine. You don't have feelings, unless you're from one of those Star Trek episodes. But then you could be a Vulcan. Yes, you are just logical.

I can't believe I am here writing you. Why? But do you really want to know? Well, I'm going to tell you anyway.

Three days ago I was a guy. You know, white, a stockbroker; have a live-in girlfriend, all that crap. I was happy being a guy. So I am driving down the freeway on a July Sunday morning when something they are calling The Great Shift happened. What is The Great Shift? Scientists are still trying to explain it three days later and are totally clueless. A massive migration or switching of people happened worldwide.

Migration? You think I'm talking about ducks or those little fury creatures that plummet over cliffs, right? Oh, those are lemmings. No, I'm talking of neither.

Switching? Like in clothes? Cars? Brands of deodorant? I see you are clueless. No, none of these. Let me put it simply. My soul was moved from a thirty-six-year-old white male to a thirty-two-year-old white female.

Who just happens to be pregnant with triplets. Sounds like a National Enquirer headline or a Lifetime Network Movie of the week, doesn't it?

And it appears I have little choice. The same scientists who don't know why the Shift happened are equally clueless as to if it can be reversed. Why did it happen? A malevolent God with a wicked sense of humor trying to shake up things? Aliens? Mad Scientists? I don't know, but it happened.

So here I am, this man turned triplet mom. The name of who I became is Rachel Klein. She was, or I am in Lucile Packard Children's Hospital in Palo Alto, California. This woman who is gay, her partner or lover or wife is named Veronica and is a medical resident at this hospital, well Rachel got pregnant via invitro fertilization and was twenty-two weeks when the shift happened.

The real Rachel hasn't been located. I thought in the beginning that she became me, but apparently not. The shift was totally random. Most shifts happened to people in close proximity to each other, like Veronica shifting with a nurse on staff. But I was four miles from this hospital. That isn't even a record. Supposedly some man in Alabama found himself in Mozambique.

So things really could be worse. Ha! Ha! Like being a triplet mother on hospital bedrest with a lesbian partner couldn't be worse.

Scratch that, I could be dead. The world has been chaotic ever since the Shift. Riots, murders, suicides, et al. I just don't feel very lucky.

Oh, how does it feel to be a woman after being a man all your life? Think if you were a computer one day and your monitor the next. Oh, you don't know how to relate to that.

I'm not sure yet. I don't like my present situation, on bedrest, pregnant, totally dependent on others. There is little to enjoy being like this.

Before the Shift I was certain about my identity and orientation. I was a man and a heterosexual one. No doubt about it. But why am I not more upset? Pregnancy hormones? This new body overriding my male self? Or maybe the business about being pregnant overriding every thing else.

But what can I do about my current state? Unless a cure is found, I will just have to go on with life. I'm not the type to take my own life. But I don't have to be happy about it. I mean, you won't be hearing me doing any Helen Reddy impersonations of "I am Woman, hear me roar."

I don't know, but being in this room is going to definitely test my sanity for the next weeks or months. What do I do all day?

There are books to read. Television doesn't appeal to me. I'm not really into watching reruns, but I may have no choice. I'm certainly not going to watch daytime talk shows or game shows with the exception of Jeopardy.

I have this computer, and there is America Online downloaded onto it. Going online might kill time, but I am not really into chatting or chat rooms. There is solitaire and minesweeper plus the laptop plays DVDs. The games will probably get boring fast.

That leaves what I am doing now. Writing a diary, something I never contemplated in my life. Mainly it was something I thought girls or women did.

Like Marcia Brady on the Brady Bunch. That episode where she was writing in her diary and then Cindy was reading it and how Marcia was so mad at her little sister. Why does a girl or woman write all these personal things in a diary and get angry when someone reads it? Can you explain why you jot these things down that you expect no one to ever read? No, it's something about the female brain, something I sadly now possess. It drives us to do incomprehensible things, like write a diary. All I hope is I won't turn into Marcia Brady. No, scratch that, I don't want to be Cindy!!!!!!!!!

Am I having a mood swing? How many more will I have between now and my escape from this place? I don't know if I will keep track, but you're welcome to do so.

That's it for now. There is so much I can write here but I will save it for another time. It isn't easy typing on my side like this and my arms easily tire out. My nurse, Robyn, was kind enough to set it up. 'Til next time, Ciao!

*****

Thursday, August 3, or day five of man held hostage in triplet mom's body.

Dear Diary,

As you can see I used to watch too much Ted Koppell. Whatever happened to Ted? He hasn't been seen since the shift.

Nothing much to report except the boredom. I spent all of yesterday either reading, watching television or playing minesweeper on the laptop.

Veronica came to visit twice. She gave me a sponge bath during one of those visits. Oh, and Dr. Crowe says she is ordering an ultrasound for tomorrow. I'm officially twenty-three weeks pregnant as of that day. Aren't I just so happy? NOT! Ciao!

*****

"How are you this morning?" asked a blonde nurse who appeared to be in her thirties. "My name is Brenda, and I'm your nurse today."

"Okay, considering everything." I had just finished eating breakfast. A bowl of Special K cereal being the main course.

"Any complaints?"

"No, not really."

"That's good," Brenda said while she appeared to be resetting my I.V. "Dr. Crowe has reduced the level of the mag sulfate you are getting."

"Yes, she told me." I hated the stuff. It made me feel so yucky.

"If your contractions stay at the current level, we may be able to discontinue it," Brenda said. "The doctor has also ordered you to have an ultrasound some-"

As if like magic the man with an ultrasound machine appeared in the room.

"We were just talking about you, Stacy."

"Oh," the ultrasound tech said. "Nothing bad, I hope."

"No, but I thought for a moment Brenda made you appear like some magician's trick." We all shared a laugh. "Like poof, he is here."

Stacy began to prepare the machine. "Can I try beeping Veronica?" Brenda said sure. Picking up the phone I dialed Veronica's beeper number, then entered my room number and a little code Veronica and me had worked out. The code meant, please come to the room, important but not serious.

This being my first ultrasound I was a little nervous but not scared. Actually the procedure is pretty simple, first the technician spread some jell over my stomach and then applied the transducer. Other than some slight pressure from the probe, I felt nothing from the exam.

Except the three little critters inside me came to life the moment the exam began. They seemed to be taking particular joy in kicking at the transducer. "Hey in there, settle down. Let Stacy do his job."

"Are they being active in there?" Brenda asked.

"Very, something about the contraction monitor or anything on my stomach seems to bring the Rockettes out in them."

"What are we looking for?" Stacy asked as he started to examine my uterus.

"Triplets."

"Wow, congrats," Stacy said. "There, I found them."

Sure enough, the monitor had found them. Babies in ultrasound images don't look very human, but it truly is a wonder to see a human life or three human lives in my case swimming away inside me.

Stacy continued taking images. He explained to me these would later be looked at by a radiologist and my doctor.

"All look good," Brenda said. "The weight estimates are twelve to thirteen ounces each."

"Is that good?"

"For twenty-two or twenty week triplets, yes it is," Brenda said. I was happy to hear this.

"Looks like three girls to me."

"Three girls? An earlier ultrasound showed two girls and a boy."

"Are you sure?" Stacy asked.

I asked Brenda to go into the top table drawer and get the ultrasound photos that were there. I then picked out the one that I wanted and showed it to Stacy.

"That's a boy, all right," Stacy laughed. "A big boy. He is just being shy now."

Watching the ultrasound was kind of exciting. It also broke up the monotony of the day for me. "This was my first ultrasound."

"Your first? I thought..." Stacy began to say.

"I used to be a guy until the Shift happened," I explained.

"Oh, I get you now. I used to be a woman before the shift. You were the babies' father, then."

"No, just some lucky guy who was driving on the 101."

Veronica then walked into the room. "How did everything go?"

"Just fine. They looked perfect," Stacy said, then turned to me. "Good luck, darling, this is a great place, we'll get you through this."

"Thanks," I told the ultrasound technician, who then left the room.

"I'm going, too. Be back later," Brenda said, and then left the room.

"Everything all right?" Veronica asked.

"Just thought you might like to be here for the show."

"Thanks. If you don't need anything, I'll see you later."

"Bye, Veronica." My new friend kissed me on the forehead and then left the room.

*****

Friday, August 4th

Dear Diary,

I had my first ultrasound today. It was kind of interesting and exciting seeing the crew. According to the technician all three babies looked good and were of a good weight.

Something amazing happened today. My bed sheets were changed. With me in the bed. Actually, this isn't the first time this has been done since I got here, but I find it incredible someone can do this. The nursing assistant by the name of Rose did it today. You learn something new every day.

Not much else to say except I am bored and I will probably watch television and maybe even the Internet today. Price is Right is on in a few minutes and I think I'll watch it. That tells you how tedious my day is.

Talk to you tomorrow. Ciao!

*****

Saturday, August 5th

Dear Diary,

I am thoroughly depressed today. This is making me question my decision to continue carrying these children.

The reasons for my depression are multifold. First, the lack of anything to do. What is there to occupy my mind for sixteen hours a day? Television? The hospital television has about twenty channels. But let's break that down. There are the networks, which are still broadcasting news of the Shift twenty-four hours a day. And by the way it looks like I will be a female the rest of my life. It's almost certain there is no way of reversing what happened. That alone is depressing enough.

Then you have news channels. Just more of the same. ESPN is here. But sporting events worldwide have been canceled. After all, it's hard for the Dallas Cowboys to field a football team when nine of their players shifted into the team's cheerleaders. Who knows when if ever professional sports will begin again? So no football, baseball or even golf.

Then there is the rest. The Newborn Channel. Enough said. The local Fox affiliate. A smorgasbord of cartoons, talk shows, and insipid reruns during the day. I can't stand that show Full House with the little smart-mouthed girl. Shoot me now.

There is no HBO or Movie Channel. The rest are channels like A&E, Lifetime, PBS and the like. More reruns, nature shows or God help me, women's programming.

Of course I can read. Jimmy Carter's memoirs, a tribute to his absolute failure at being President. Yawn... The next thing you know I will be staring at the JC Penney Catalog!

There's the computer. My diary or talking to you. That fills maybe one hour a day. And I was so thoroughly depressed today that I put off doing this till almost 4 p.m. Other than that I can use the laptop for playing solitaire or minesweeper. Both of which get boring fast. I may ask Veronica if she could get me some chess software, or Tiger Woods Golf, but these will only be temporary relief.

I actually went online this morning via America Online. Using Rachel's screen name, but without prying into her personal mail, etc. I did find her triplet related bookmarks and noted these.

Then I created my own screen name. I resisted the temptation to do something like CrazyManinTripletMomsbody with a password of bedpan, and chose something simpler. But my password is bedpan.

Which brings us to the second reason for my depression. My total lack of independence. I am so dependent on others for the simplest of matters. Food, drink, relieving myself, even sometimes needing help to eat. It just makes me feel like an absolute cripple.

The third main reason for my depression is the loneliness. I have no one here. Yes, I see doctors, nurses, residents, cleaning staff, dietitians and physical therapists. But these are the people treating me. Veronica is so busy with her work she can only come in here infrequently. I don't blame her; I know her job is very demanding. But the lack of someone to talk to is just driving me up the wall.

Which brings us back to the computer. I know people chat online all the time, but I have never done it in my life. Do I want to start doing that now? It would enable me to make some friends to help pass the time away. But how reliable will these friends be? I have heard all the stories about weird people on the Internet. Is the person who you are talking to who they say they are? As the comedian quipped, he could be a child molester, ax murderer or a Certified Public Accountant.

Plus, what type of people am I looking to talk to? People who are pregnant? I saw such links in Rachel's bookmarks. Do I really want to be commiserating with other pregnant women? Or guys who are now pregnant?

Maybe I need to just make up my mind. It's just so depressing being like this. I don't know if I have two more weeks or twelve. I read some of the messages at the TC and hear of moms going only twenty-five weeks but some going thirty-six. God help me if I've got thirteen more weeks to go.

Time to sulk. Ciao.

*****

Sunday, August 6th

Dear Diary,

Life on pregnancy bedrest is like Mr. Roberts described his work. Going back and forth between tedium and boredom with an occasional side trip to monotony.

I created a User Name at TC and posted an introduction about myself early this morning. Reading the messages at this triplet forum will give me something to do.

I went in a pregnancy chat room yesterday but hardly anyone was there. Before that I went in a public room but kept getting Instant Messaged either about porn or if I wanted to cyber. Maybe online chatting isn't cut out for me.

Babies woke up around 4 a.m. and started with some early morning calisthenics. I still can't get used to the feeling of some babies inside me. And my stomach, don't ask, it's huge.

Veronica is working back-to-back twenty-four hour shifts. I can't believe anyone would do this. More so that a hospital expects patients to get good treatment from a doctor who is working like this. I know Veronica has little choice, but I can't help but pity her. She has been lucky to come by here for five or ten minutes at a time for three straight days. I do appreciate that she comes and sees me.

Today was the first time for me to get a newspaper. The San Jose Mercury News is back publishing again. I always preferred the San Fran Examiner, but I can't complain. I will be spending my day poring over the whole paper.

Nothing else to say. Oh, corned beef with gravy on it. That was dinner last night. Enough said. Ciao.

*****

I got a not totally unexpected visitor shortly after 1 p.m. on Sunday afternoon. At the time I was reading the newspaper when I heard a knocking sound.

"Can I come in?" asked a vaguely familiar voice. I said yes. It was the body of Charlotte Ellis, or my girlfriend Lilah Freeman.

Charlotte was a very different physical type from Lilah. First, she was darker skinned than my girlfriend. But she was shorter and while not fat she did not have the lithe figure of Charlotte. Another 'big' difference between the two women was their bosom or breasts.

"Matt?"

"Yes, who were you expecting, Joe Montana?" I said sarcastically. Lilah never had much of a sense of humor.

Not coming over to say hello to me, Lilah instead took a seat at the table in the room. Why did this bother me?

"How are you?"

"About as good as can be expected," I replied. "How are you?"

"About the same." Lilah sounded awkward to me. Why had she finally shown up? I knew I wouldn't be going anywhere soon.

"Funny, I get to be a triplet mom and you get to be your best friend," I said. "But then the shift made absolutely no sense."

"True."

"I was driving the 101, and got shifted a couple of miles. You get traded with your friend and she lives, what forty miles from us."

"Charlotte came to visit shortly after you left that morning." Lilah still didn't sound right to me.

"And you went to stay with her after the shift?"

"Yes, I thought it would be more convenient. It's closer to the office."

"I wouldn't think much would be going on at work right now," I said.

"Very little, really," Lilah replied.

I was already positive that my and Lilah's relationship was at an end. First because I was now a woman, and my girlfriend wasn't gay. Secondly because even if she was, her whole attitude or lack of interest toward me since the shift had thoroughly disgusted me. She apparently didn't give a rat's ass about me any more.

It was time to move on, but I preferred Lilah to make the first move. I didn't want any palimony suits or the like because my girlfriend being a lawyer would instantly have me one strike down. Lawyers back other lawyers.

"So, it took you a week to get here."

"The freeways were bad," Lilah said. Her excuse was pathetic in my opinion.

"Not too bad to go to the airport or to Charlotte's place," I replied.

Lilah took a deep breath. "Matt, I am moving my things out of our home." Most of the furniture and belongings in my Mountain View home were really mine. The home had been left to me after my parents had died in 1990.

While it was not unexpected, Lilah's announcement was still a shock to the system. I tried to remain calm, remembering all too well what happened when I got upset earlier in the week.

"So we're done, finished?" I asked.

"Yes," was all Lilah said.

"Why does this not surprise me?" I asked. "Tell me, the Shift isn't the only reason for our split up, is it?"

Lilah just stared at me for over a minute.

"There is something else. What is it?"

"Me and Charlotte, we've been..." Lilah stopped in mid-sentence.

"Been what?" I was beginning to lose my patience.

"Charlotte and I have been...seeing one another," Lilah said like she was confessing something she hadn't told anyone.

"Seeing one another?" I asked, still ignorant of what my ex-girlfriend meant.

"Charlotte is gay," Lilah said, hesitating before adding, "I am, also. I mean, I'm a lesbian."

"You're what?" I said in disbelief. "We've been together for what, seven years? Having sex all that time and now you're gay?"

I could see the turmoil in Lilah, but my male ego was blocking it out at the time. Of course what guy wouldn't feel wounded by his wife or girlfriend cheating on him. More so since Lilah was admitting she was gay.

"I only came to admit it in the last year," Lilah said biting her lip. "I always have been attracted to girls or women."

"Good of you to tell me now," I said, trying to control my temper. "How long have you and Charlotte been 'seeing' one another?"

"A little over two years," Lilah admitted. I did the calculations in my mind, that was about the same time Charlotte and her husband began their separation.

Veronica walked in the room about then but left as soon as she saw someone was in the room with me. By now my blood was beginning to boil and was beyond my control to stop it. I didn't feel it at the time but I was having contractions again.

"So for two years you were fucking around behind my back," I said angrily. "Probably on those 'business' trips you used to take."

Lilah just sat there silently like she was waiting for the explosion to happen. It wasn't a long wait.

"Lilah, I don't want to see your ugly fat ass ever again," I said loudly, and using language I wasn't really accustomed to using. "Furthermore, I want you out of my house by week's end. If you don't I'm having the locks changed. Now get your ass out of here now."

Lilah just left the room without saying a word. Then I felt a sharp back pain. 'God, I'm contracting again.'

My nurse Robyn plus Veronica came into the room about a minute after Lilah left. "Ms. Klein, you're contracting again. You must stop getting upset or you may go into full blown labor."

"I'm sorry, I just got very upset with my visitor. It won't happen again." After a few more words of caution, Robyn then left the room but Veronica stayed.

"Hi, Veronica." She came over and kissed me on the forehead before sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Just came to see how you were."

"I was okay," I said, knowing Veronica had heard the climax of my disagreement with Lilah. "That was my ex-girlfriend. Her name is Lilah."

"Want to talk about it?"

"No, another time maybe," I said. At the moment I wanted to calm down.

"I'm going to order dinner later for myself. What would you like?"

Veronica was really very kind to do this for me. She knew I was already growing sick of the hospital food. "Anything is all right except for Mexican or maybe Korean food like Kimchee."

"I'll keep that in mind," Veronica said. "Anything you would really like to eat?"

"Fried Chicken, maybe."

"I've got to go back to work, but will come back later. Bye, Matt," Veronica said, squeezing my hand tight and then got up and left the room.

*****

Monday, August 7th

Dear Diary,

Yesterday marked exactly one week since I was 'confined'. Have I lost my mind yet?

Lilah stopped by yesterday. She came to inform me that she is leaving me. Not a big surprise, but the bombshell was she announced she is gay. Gay????????

Okay, I'd better remain calm. Let's chat about something else. Like television programming. ESPN in order to fill the airwaves with some kind of sports has dug through the archives and started showing famous baseball, football and other sporting events. Sports reruns are more predictable than other reruns, but I have little choice. It definitely beats watching Family Matters. Why didn't anyone strangle that Urkel long ago?

Veronica brought fried chicken for dinner last night. Other than that there is little to report. Ciao.

*****

Tuesday, August 8th

Dear Diary,

My life is so exciting. I look forward to watching Benson, Law & Order and Star Trek - Deep Space Nine reruns. Would you believe I'm watching Price is Right? DS9 is on in the middle of the night at 1 a.m. but I have the VCR programmed to record it.

Other than that there is little to say or write today. The world is beginning to calm down some. The President was on television last night asking the nation to remain calm. Hmm... The President now looks to be a twenty-five-year-old female. I wonder what he was doing at the time of the Shift?

Till tomorrow. Ciao!

*****

Wednesday, August 9th

Dear Diary,

"I got those bedpan blues," "That go from my head to my shoes." "All I ever do is lie in this damn cot." "And I am so mad I've got to go in a pot."

With apologies to Herman Wouk, who wrote The Caine Mutiny.

That's what I should do with this diary. Make it the basis for either a play or musical. What do you think? I know, I know. Don't give up your day job.

Veronica is willing to go to my home tomorrow and pick me up some things. She is off for the day, and I'm going to give her a list.

I went in AOL's pregnancy chat room. It was interesting talking in there but after I told people I was a triplet mom to be who used to be a guy, I got called a snert by several women. A snert is a liar.

That should have probably made me quit the room right away, but I did turn up chatting with someone nice. Her name is Jack and she lives in Santa Clara. She liked to play golf, is a big 49er fan and we seemed to have struck it off. Like me, she used to be a guy, and is now twenty-seven weeks pregnant after shifting with his wife. They have three kids already and this is number four. Anyway, Jack was talking about coming up here to meet sometime. I didn't say what hospital I was in, because you don't know whom you are really talking to on the Internet. We will see what happens.

Talking about the Internet, there is a major brouhaha going on at the Triplet Connection. It appears some trusted member of the forum and moderator of several mothers groups was not who she was said to be. Who would make up a story about being a mother to triplets? <Shaking head>

So apparently some people are discussing who are or aren't fakers on the forum. I get the feeling though I wasn't mentioned directly that I was one of those being accused. If not for an invitation I got to join a group for mothers due this fall I would probably forget the forum. Right now I haven't made up my mind.

Not much else to write for today. Ciao.

*****

Friday, August 11th

Dear Diary,

There wasn't much to write about yesterday so I skipped a day.

Today marks twenty-four weeks pregnant for me. The way they count it is by beginning at the first day of your last period. Though to me this doesn't really make sense, the babies weren't conceived until almost two weeks later. But then, who am I to argue with doctors?

Talking about Doctors. I met Dr. Crowe's associate, Dr. Harold Smithson. He is in his early twenties but is probably older I guess. The Shift and all being why.

What this doctor needs is a personality transplant. I mean I make jokes, snide remarks and what does he do? He doesn't laugh or anything, not a grin, half a smile nothing. Just strictly business. Now, Dr. Crowe and everyone else involved with my care will laugh along with me. Not this doctor. Maybe I need to think up a nickname for him.

Veronica went to my Mountain View home yesterday and retrieved the items I requested. Mostly some books, DVDs and computer software. The trip was uneventful, Veronica found the place without any problems and there was no sign of Lilah. Veronica did report that dresser drawers and closets were either empty or half empty. So my ex-girlfriend must be heeding my warning to get out by this weekend.

After this was done, Veronica kept me company most of the day. She was really too kind to do this, but I understand why she does this. She loves the children I am carrying and wants to see to both their welfare and mine.

Something I have begun to notice are the babies' movements. Namely, if I talk to them or if Veronica talks to them. They will respond more often than not. Those pregnancy books do say a baby will respond to the sound of their mother's voice, and I am beginning to believe it.

Like last night when Veronica was here. She likes to feel the babies' movements sometimes and asks if she can touch me. I say fine, but if I talk to the babies or Veronica does they start kicking. Not that I will ever get used to being used as a basketball backboard or punching bag. It's just interesting.

Veronica and I had a good long talk yesterday. About the pregnancy and what will happen after I give birth. She accepts I want nothing to do with the children post-birth. Accept might not be the right word, scratch that. I know she is still upset over what happened to Rachel, etc. It is readily apparent she loved her very much. But this is the best we can do. I don't want to be a mother; I am only going through with this because the alternatives to me are unappealing.

The goal Veronica tells me to aim for is thirty weeks or more. That's six more weeks at least! I have heard of triplets born at twenty-five weeks who came out all right after extensive time in the Neo Natal Intensive Care Unit also known as a NICU.

But Veronica told me the babies won't be born at twenty-five weeks unless it is absolutely necessary. The maximum I would probably go is thirty-six. That's another three months!

Anyway, Veronica and I had a good chat. She brought me Chinese food for dinner. It sure beat the usual hospital @#%^!. Another thing, Veronica asked if I didn't mind if she kept some clothes in the room or sometimes slept here. See, the recliner pulls out into a bed. I said I didn't mind, at least I would have some company.

One other thing of note. I spoke to Jack today. On the telephone. After much online chatting while Veronica was in Mountain View, I gave Jack Rachel's cell phone number. We talked for over an hour! Just like a couple of women. It really made the day fly by combined with Veronica's visits. Anyway, Jack is talking about stopping up here this weekend. It's got to be better than two days of cartoons and religious shows.

Ciao!

*****

There was little or nothing on television Saturday afternoon, so I was reading Jimmy Carter's Keeping Faith when I got a visitor.

"Hi, Matt?" asked a fairly attractive blonde haired, blue-eyed woman in her mid to late twenties. She also appeared to be pretty well along in her own pregnancy. She was also carrying several plastic bags.

"Yes, I'm Matt. Jack?"

"Yeah, it's me," Jack said. "It's so nice to meet you. How are you?"

"Bored out of my mind, but okay."

"I can imagine," Jack said, taking a seat and moving it close to the bed.

"Thank you for coming, you really didn't have to."

"Oh heck, I need a break and Nancy is home to watch the kids," Jack confessed. "You're actually the first person I've met from online."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. It's not far from here to Santa Clara. As soon as I learned you were here at Packard, I decided to come."

"Thanks." I appreciated Jack's generosity. She barely knew me. We had only been chatting for a few days. "It's so tough to be here alone."

"I know, I'm lucky to have Nancy and the kids." Jack, Nancy and their three children had been having Sunday breakfast at a nearby IHOP when the shift happened. The kids shifted among themselves but the parents swapped.

"You have three already and this is number four?"

"Yes, John Jr. is five, Candace is three and Dorothy just turned a year old last month," Jack said. "Candace and little Jack swapped. Dorothy appears the same, but it's kind of hard to tell. I'm expecting a boy this time."

"And you're how old?" I asked. Three kids already and number four on the way. Well, some people need a hobby.

"Nancy, I mean I'm twenty-five, Nancy is twenty-six," Jack said. "We got married young."

"Regular baby factory then?" Jack laughed at my comment.

"We're both Catholic and come from big families. No birth control, you know."

My friend being unfazed by being shifted into his wife just amazed me. I just found it incredible that she took the whole thing in stride like her life had been barely changed.

"You probably find it incredible I take this in stride," Jack asked, as if she read my mind.

"You got that right, brother, err, I mean sister."

"I can't do anything about it. And granted if I had to be a woman, there is no one better to be than Nancy."

"And her as you."

"Yes, it could be a lot worse," Jack said. "But I think you have seen the television and know it."

'Or just look at who I am now,' I thought. A triplet mom on hospital bedrest. "Hmm...but how many kids are you and Nancy going to have?"

"Don't know," Jack giggled. "We both came from big families. Nancy has twelve brothers."

"Twelve?"

"Yes, and she was the only girl," Jack said. "First six boys, then Nancy then another six boys. I have three brothers and three sisters, so I come from a family of seven."

"And you and Nancy are planning a big family still?" I asked.

"Whatever God grants us, we will take it. Children are a blessing from God."

Veronica walked in the room about now. She was a little surprised to see I had a visitor.

"Hi, Veronica," I said, motioning for her to come in. "This is my online friend, Jack."

Jack extended her hand to Veronica. "Nice to meet you, Veronica."

"Nice to meet you, Jack," Veronica said, and then turned to me. "I just came to see how you were doing."

"Oh, I'm ready to do some jumping jacks right now," I replied. Veronica could tell I was kidding.

"That good?" Veronica laughed at my small joke. "Just came down to see how you were. I'm busy upstairs as always."

"Thanks, Veronica, I do appreciate it." At just this moment both Jack and I released two big, noisy gas bombs. It seems my friend suffered from the same problem as I.

"I'll let you girls gossip or blow gas together, be back later. Nice to meet you, Jack." Veronica then left the room.

"That's-" Jack began to say.

"The girlfriend of the woman I became," I replied. "They were a lesbian couple."

"Oh, she is quite pretty actually."

"She shifted with one of the nurses in the oncology ward."

"Oh," Jack said. "You don't know what happened to the real Rachel, do you?"

"No, we don't."

Jack and I chatted for about an hour before she announced that she had to go home. The talk we had covered lots of subjects but tended to shy away from our pregnancies. I didn't really want to talk about it. We talked a lot about sports, or the lack thereof at the moment. Whether the sports leagues would ever start again, etc. We did talk some about our jobs; Jack was a manager or executive for his family's chain of funeral homes. Getting shifted into his wife hadn't really changed things.

"Oh, I brought you some food. I hope you like Italian," Jack said after getting out of her chair and collecting her purse.

"I love Italian." Which wasn't a lie. Jack then brought the food over to show me.

A large Tupperware container was full of Ziti and what looked like Chicken. "That's Chicken Parmesan, Nancy is a great cook. She home makes the sauce and pasta."

I believed my friend. The food both looked and smelled delicious. But at the moment I was surprisingly not hungry. My snack break would be coming shortly; I would save this for dinner. There was probably enough there for two or three meals.

"Thanks, it looks delicious," I replied. "The nurses can microwave it for me."

"You're welcome," Jack said, then took the dish and put it in the room refrigerator. "It's been nice meeting and talking to you, Matt."

"You too, Jack, I appreciate the food and you coming by."

"I'd like us to be friends. We've got something in common."

"Sure, I do need them now."

"Me too," Jack said, and then waved to me. "I've got to get going, talk to you during the week sometime."

"Bye, Jack." I watched my friend leave the room. After he was gone I picked up the buzzer. About a minute later one of the nurses answered. "I need to use the commode."

*****

Sunday, August 13th

Dear Diary,

Today marks the beginning of my second week of confinement here. Time flies when you use the bedpan. Or does the bedpan draw flies? Oh God, bedpan humor, shoot me now!

My friend Jack came by yesterday and spent nearly two hours here with me. We had a nice chat and it did help to break up the monotony of the day.

Even better, Jack brought me food. Chicken Parmesan prepared by her wife Nancy. It was absolutely delicious. The sauce was the best I ever tasted. If Nancy wasn't married, I'd go straight and marry the guy!

Otherwise, there is little to report. Veronica and the babies are the same. I am bored to tears. At least the newspaper keeps me busy on Sunday. The Examiner started publishing again, and I asked for two newspapers. Still no sign of a Wall Street Journal. But who knows when the financial markets will open again.

That's all for today. Ciao!

*****

Monday, August 14th

Dear Diary,

I am getting into a little bit of a routine. Here is a bit of a rundown.

Early a.m. till around 9 a.m. - Breakfast, read newspapers, read my book.

9 am-11 am - Go online. Chat in AOL's Pregnancy chat room. Read Triplet Connection message board.

11 a.m.-Noon - Price is Right. I like those Barker beauties.

Noon-1 p.m. - Perry Mason rerun. Ditto for Della Street.

1-2 p.m. - Lunch and Law & Order. Jill Hennessey is a Goddess.

2-5 p.m. - Take nap, read, if Tuesday to Saturday watch DS9 episode taped from night before. Terry Farrell aka Jadzia Dax is also a Goddess.

5-7 p.m. - The evening news and dinner unless Veronica is bringing me food.

7-8 p.m. - Watch Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy and chat with Veronica. Vanna White is a bimbo.

8-10 p.m. - Read, watch DVDs on laptop, sometimes watch television or go online. I usually turn off the light around ten. My nurse comes in at 9:30 with my sleeping pill. I learned my lesson early on to take this pill.

Sound exciting? Yeah, right. I have to find something to pass the time of the day with. Most of the shows are either old favorites or bearable.

The brouhaha continues to rage at TC. I don't know what is worse? The fakers or the people who accuse people of being fake? I got a feeling some members think of me as a faker. Good riddance to them. Who would make up this crazy story?

Enough venting for the day. The last of the food Jack brought is gone. I hope she comes back with more. Ciao!

*****

Wednesday, August 15th

Dear Diary,

Have I written about the ceiling tiles yet? I haven't. Okay, it's time for me to mention these.

Lying in bed either on my side or back leaves me with time to study things I never thought I would spend my days contemplating. Like the ceiling tiles in my room. Are they just random or is there some kind of meaning to them? I know they aren't like the Sistine Chapel done by Michelangelo.

But sometimes I think there are faces up there. Are they watching me? Or are they waves on the ocean?

Can't you tell I have nothing better to do?

I mean, what can one do when in bed staring at the ceilings and walls for twenty-four hours a day. Yes, I sleep, but rarely for more than a few hours straight. I am so damn uncomfortable it wakes me up.

And it will get worse the longer I'm pregnant. My girth is tremendous now, and God forbid if I go thirty-five weeks. If I weren't already in the hospital they'd probably have to use a hook and crane to get me inside.

That may not be so bad compared to my losing my mind between now and then. What do you think?

Oh heck, like you're going to tell me. Time to go. Ciao!

*****

Thursday, August 16th

Dear Diary,

Ma'am

Ms. Or Miss Klein

Rachel

B****. I rarely used this word when I was a man.

Am I doomed to being the above? The television news, San Francisco Examiner, and Time Magazine who just started publishing again, are all saying the same thing. This shuffle, shaft, shift, Great Shift or whatever you call it is permanent.

So I'd better get used to the above. It's just all terribly depressing right now. I had been holding out hope that maybe society, mankind could be returned to normalcy. How is the world going to cope with this new reality?

How am I going to deal with being a female until the day I die? It just looks like I will have to accept it. No matter how much I dislike it.

So a life of dresses, bras, PMS, men, yeast infections, tight shoes and makeup are my future.

Scratch men. I'm going to be two Hundred percent lesbian. I mean it. Cross my heart. Maybe I can avoid the dresses, yeast infections and makeup, too. Cross your fingers for me.

Don't say it. You don't have fingers. You tell me this - WHY DO I WRITE TO YOU AGAIN?!

Oh, so I can pass the time of the day. To keep me sane. To have somewhere to store my innermost thoughts. To practice my standup comedy material for when I get out of the hospital.

Two out of four isn't bad. Right?

Why are we discussing all of this? Partly the newspapers and magazines I've been reading. Partly due to how I am treated here at Packard.

Don't get me wrong. The staff and nurses here are great. I have never had a complaint with any of them. Well, if I ever meet the cook I might shoot him or her!

Anyway, the nurses and staff all call me Ms. Klein. Yes, Ms. sort of fits now, however much I don't want to be. You heard that all before, too.

So what do I want to do for a name now in life? I've got to accept that people will call me Ms., Miss, Ma'am, Madame, Mrs., etc., etc. But what about the rest of my name? Matthew Snyder hardly sounds female. Or should I change it?

I could take the name of who I became. Rachel Klein, but I'm not sure about that, either. No trace of Rachel was ever found after the Shift. What happened to her is a mystery, and of course this affects Veronica. I don't want to upset my friend any more than she is already. After our rough beginning, we have formed a kind of temporary partnership. I do appreciate the things Veronica does for me, particularly keeping me company.

Maybe I should just ask Veronica for her opinion. I've just got to find a good time for doing it. In the meantime I've got to come up with a new name for me. No, I am not Marcia Brady!

That is the end of today's discourse. Ciao!

*****

I was just finishing breakfast the following morning, when Dr. Crowe visited my room.

"Good morning, Ms. Klein, how are you this morning?" the doctor asked.

"Okay, I guess."

"Any complaints?"

"None."

"Any questions today?"

I took a deep breath. Deep considering my position. What I was going to ask was probably dumb, but what the heck. "I'm twenty-five weeks pregnant today. Correct?"

Dr. Crowe didn't have my chart with her. She was probably relying on her memory instead, and I guess she has plenty of patients. "I think so. I could go back and check your chart. Why?"

'Time to ask the stupid question, Matt. Or Rachel or whomever I am. Remember, the only stupid question is the one you don't ask,' I told myself.

"You said once before that triplets can live if born at twenty-five weeks?"

"Yes, they can. With intensive care in a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. Serious or life-threatening complications can arise," Dr. Crowe explained.

"But you have delivered triplets at twenty-five weeks?"

"Yes, but only when necessary. Complications arose in either the mother or the children or both. Which necessitated delivered the fetuses."

"Did the babies survive?"

I think Dr. Crowe had already discerned where my line of questioning was going. She sighed before answering. "Some did."

'Which I guess means some didn't,' I thought. "I guess this will sound dumb, but I'll ask anyway. You know I am not really a woman or this mother of triplets. You wouldn't deliver the babies now for me?"

If I was expecting an emotional reaction from Dr. Crowe, I was sorely disappointed. The perinatologist answered, "We would only deliver your babies if it was required medically. Not at your request."

"Just thought I'd ask." Then I thought of something else. "My insulin shots, will I have to take them as long as I am pregnant?"

"Yes, we're trying to prevent gestational diabetes. Your blood sugar tends to be high."

"Okay, I understand that. How about after I give birth?"

"No, the shots are discontinued then. However, you are a borderline diabetic, it's recommended that you have your blood sugar checked regularly by your physician."

"Thanks, doctor."

"Anything else?" Dr. Crowe asked, and I shook my head. "Seeing that your cervix has stabilized and the babies have reached the point of viability, I am authorizing twice a week showers for you."

'Twice a week is better than nothing,' I thought, happy at the news. Most of the time I felt filthy and disgusting despite getting sponge baths. "Do you know when I'll get my first?"

"No, I don't. The nurse will tell you. If that is all, good day, Ms. Klein."

It was all and my doctor left the room then. I was about to set up my laptop computer when my nurse for the day came into the room. She was African-American and her name was Marilyn. It appeared my nurse was in a bit of a hurry, she barely acknowledged me.

"Hi, Marilyn," I said as my nurse went straight to the printout paper on the monitor next to my bed. "Did the doctor tell you about my being able to have baths now?"

Marilyn was changing the paper on my machine. One roll lasted approximately twelve hours. The rolls were usually replaced around 9 a.m. This was so the machine running of paper out during the middle of the night wouldn't awaken me. The machine would made this annoying beeping sound.

"Yes, Dr. Crowe told me. Two times a week starting today," Marilyn replied.

"Are you going to do it for me?" I was already excited at the prospect.

"Sorry, no. Rose will do it for you," Marilyn explained. Rose and Marie were usually the nursing assistants in the antepartum unit. They would come and take my vitals two or three times a day. "She'll come in sometime later this morning or afternoon. By the way, when did you finish breakfast?"

"A little after nine," I said. That meant I would have my blood sugar tested at a little past eleven.

Marilyn made a note of that in a small notebook she kept in her nursing smock pocket. "Anything you need?"

"No, Marilyn, nothing."

"Just keep hanging in there, Ms. Klein," Marilyn said, patting me on the back. "I'll be back later."

*****

Saturday, August 19th

Dear Diary,

I had a shower yesterday! Hooray for small miracles.

Dr. Crowe gave me the big news when she made her daily visit. Just after lunch, nursing assistant Rose came to the room. After helping me undress and get out of bed, Rose then took me into the shower. There for maybe a little less than ten minutes I got thoroughly drenched and washed. I can't tell you how good it felt. Even my hair got shampooed. My hair was probably the most disgusting part of me.

So as not to spend too much time standing, most of the shower was done with me sitting on a shower stool or bench. While I was getting initially cleansed, Rose changed my bed in about a minute's time and then got back to me in the shower. Once done with washing me, my NA then dried me from head to toe. My hair took the longest; that required me having a towel on my pillow. As I said, I don't think I was out of bed for more than ten minutes. This will be a twice weekly occurrence now, either Mondays and Fridays or Tuesdays and Fridays.

I look like a big whale. I mean it. Yesterday was the first time I really got to see my girth or how large my stomach was while standing near a mirror. I never knew a man or woman's stomach could reach out so far. And I'm not done yet getting bigger.

You know something also? I'm not half bad looking for a female. I mean, if you forget the pregnant part of me. In no way am I Miss America, but I'm far from ugly. Somehow I always thought lesbians were ugly women.

And I'm definitely a lesbian. I like pretty faces. You know something? I even think of sex sometimes when lying in bed. No, I don't mean now, but after I have these babies. Find myself another sister, maybe former guy like me. I don't think my looks will be a deterrent to that.

Well, I am just fantasizing about the future. What will the future be? I don't think anyone knows, things are still pretty chaotic out there.

Yesterday's DS9 episode was The Way of the Warrior. That was the episode where Worf joins the cast. I always liked him on Next Generation.

Anyway, a funny thing entered my mind last night. Back on TNG, Worf explained the Klingon mating ritual I think to Wesley Crusher. The male reads poetry while the female throws heavy objects like furniture.

Does that mean a Klingon lesbian mating ritual consists of two women throwing furniture? That is one ritual I'd love to see. Just not from a vantage point inside that same room.

Silly me? Yes, but what else do I have to do around here?

Someone is playing with my belly button again. It must be someone's favorite toy in there. Time to go. Ciao!

*****

Monday, August 21st

Dear Diary,

For some reason I've been thinking of Rachel Klein for most of yesterday. I wonder if Veronica or I will ever learn what happened to her?

Rachel shifted, but to whom? Most shifts were done within a short distance of one another. But others were done over longer distances. Like me, it's like two to three miles from here to where I was on the freeway.

If Rachel shifted with another adult, why didn't we hear from her? Why the same if she was even a child? If the child can communicate or talk, a phone call was a simple thing to do.

Of course, neither of these scenarios may be applicable. Could Rachel have shifted into a newborn child? There are plenty of those nearby. Supposedly the Nursery is right outside the antepartum unit.

Another possibility is that Rachel shifted with someone like me. I mean, who was driving a car. Many cars crashed after the shift because people were shifted into roles they weren't expecting. The results were often deadly. I pray this wasn't what happened to Rachel.

By the way, I have stopped worrying about my Jaguar. Either it's wrecked or has a new owner. My chances of retrieving it are about as strong as my hitting the lottery.

I hope we find out. Particularly for Veronica's sake. She was a big part of my friend's life; I can't really imagine what she is going through at the moment.

This was on my mind last night. So before going to sleep I said a prayer for Rachel and everyone effected by the Shift. I'm not particularly religious, but I felt it was needed.

Yesterday marked three weeks for me in my prison. Till tomorrow, Ciao!

*****

"Good Morning, Ms. Chandler. How are you today?" asked Dr. Rosario Sanchez, to whom she assumed was Peg Wilson. Mrs. Wilson along with her husband John were in the obstetrician's Los Gatos office for the mother's twenty-one week checkup.

"Actually, it's Mrs. Wilson now," Peg Wilson said, speaking up. Peg or Margaret Wilson's maiden name was Margaret Eileen Chandler. At the moment he was seated in the exam room's corner chair while John was sitting on the exam table looking miserable. The former man was wearing a gown given to her by a nurse that opened in the back. In addition, John was wearing nothing from the waist down. "We got married three weeks ago."

Dr. Sanchez, who had hundreds of pregnant mothers in care between her two Bay area offices, only recalled the couple's wedding plans after Peg's reminder. "Congratulations to both of you. I hope you had an enjoyable honeymoon."

"The Shift happened," John answered with her head down.

"It certainly did, and I'm sorry," Dr. Sanchez replied. "Now, Mrs. Wilson, if..."

"I'm not Mrs. Wilson," John said, pointing at her wife and barely concealing her annoyance. "He is."

"Yes, we swapped when the Shift happened. We were at SFO getting ready to leave for our honeymoon," Peg explained.

"He's me and I'm him," John said rather dejectedly.

"I have quite a few patients like yourselves," Dr. Sanchez remarked. She couldn't give specifics because of patient confidentiality, but the obstetrician had at least thirty pregnant patients who before the Shift were members of the opposite sex. Usually the fathers. The total may be larger, the doctor had totally stopped counting by now.

Not that John Wilson was in the mood to hear about Dr. Sanchez's other patients. Today was just another of the new indignities the former man would have to endure in her post Shift life.

"Now, Mr. Wilson, if you will please lay with your back on the table. I'll start my examination."

John did as the doctor complied, lying back on the exam table. She never felt more humiliated in her life. Why not? She had been a man until a few weeks earlier, and now she is a pregnant woman undergoing a pelvic examination. It was so unfair, John thought. Why did this have to happen to her?

"Will you spread your legs, please?" Dr. Sanchez asked. John did as asked and the exam began. In less than five minutes the doctor was done. "You may sit back up again."

'God help me, that hurt. I'm going to have to go through this the rest of my life,' John thought as she sat up on the exam table.

Peg Wilson came over to hold her husband's hand. "How do you feel?"

"Not very good."

"Mr. Wilson, or Mrs. Wilson, have you had your ultrasound examination yet?"

"No, doctor," John replied. 'I wonder if that will hurt, too?'

"But we have one scheduled for today. In your office," Peg added. By the father's calculation the couple was late for that appointment but Peg guessed there was a good chance those appointments were behind schedule also.

"Good," Dr. Sanchez said, writing some notes in her patient's file. "Any questions?"

"No, doctor," John replied. "Can I get dressed now?"

"Yes, of course. I want to see you again in four weeks. Then we will screen you for gestational diabetes." Dr. Sanchez then picked up the chart, said good-bye and left the exam room.

Two minutes later the Wilsons emerged from the exam room. A nurse was passing by and John Wilson asked where to go for their ultrasound appointment. After getting the directions, the couple went down a long corridor.

Dr. Sanchez was a practitioner in a large OB/GYN practice. So as not to inconvenience their patients, the office did their own ultrasounds instead of farming them out. It took a few minutes and a few wrong turns in the labyrinth of corridors and exam rooms, but Peg and John found the place they were to go. After checking with a nurse who told the couple to take a seat, Peg and John began their third wait of the day.

This wait proved considerably shorter than the prior two. "Ms. Margaret Wilson?" a blonde haired nurse or ultrasound technician called.

"That's me," John replied as she and Peg got out of their chairs and walked over to the nurse.

"Hello, my name is Paula and I will be doing your exam today. Please follow me."

Once in the exam room, John was given another gown to wear. This time she was asked to take off all her clothes but her underwear, then lay down on the exam room. Paula left the room for a few minutes while the mother got undressed.

When Paula returned to the room the examination began. After some computer data entries and some other preparations, the technician began the exam.

The vast majority of mothers undergo a Level II ultrasound sometime between weeks sixteen and week twenty-two. Contrary to myth, the purpose of these exams is not to determine a baby's sex, which can't be done with absolute certainty unless an amniocentesis is done, but to screen the fetus for birth defects and any other abnormalities.

Paula began by placing a transponder on John's stomach. The expectant mom was happily surprised to find out this exam wouldn't hurt. John just felt some abdominal pressure, that was all.

Quickly, images appeared on a monitor. They were from inside John's uterus. Sure enough, a baby was inside there growing.

Paula began snapping images of the fetus. At the same time both John and Peg watched the monitor. Peg found this a fascinating and exciting experience. John on the other hand would have preferred to forget. She had already sworn this would be the first and only child the former man would ever have.

About five minutes into the exam, Peg Wilson saw something and decided to speak up. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Uh huh," Paula said, momentarily stopping the exam and freezing the last image taken. She typed a few words at the computer. Soon an arrow and words appeared on the monitor. The words? Boy part. "You're having a son, Mrs. Wilson."

"You hear that?" Peg said, clutching her wife's hand. "We're having a son."

"Yes, I heard," John smiled back. It was a phony smile; she just did it to please her husband. 'And by the way, I'm having a son, not you.'

The examination took another thirty minutes. Near the end, Paula stepped out of the room and when she came back, Dr. Sanchez was with her.

"Everything looks perfect," Dr. Sanchez said, also examining her with the ultrasound machine. A few minutes later the exam was over and John was told she could get dressed again. Before leaving the room, Paula gave the couple snapshots of their son and his 'boy part'.

"We should put this in a picture frame at the house," Peg commented, still a little bit in awe. John, however, had no comment.

Before leaving the office, John paid her co-pay for the office visit and set an appointment for her next visit. It would be September 25th at 8 a.m.

"There's your card, Mrs. Wilson, said the receptionist, handing John an appointment card with the date and time written on it. "Have a nice day."

Neither John nor Peg Wilson spoke up until they were in the car on the way home. "I'm glad that's over," said John Wilson.

"It wasn't that bad?"

"Hell, it was. I've never felt so uncomfortable and disgusted in my life as when she stuck that thing up between my legs."

"John, sweetheart, you only have to put up with this until you have our son. Then it's over. Won't it be worth it?"

"No. I hate this."

Peg remained unfazed by her husband's attitude. You'd think it would change with time. Neither had wanted to be the other, but that was who they were now. In the former woman's opinion the couple would just have to accept and move on. Just like billions of other people on earth.

"We need to accept and move on."

"I don't want to be a woman, and I don't want to be a mother."

"John, we've got to accept the new reality. This is the way it will be the rest of our lives."

Silence just permeated the car. John was hardly showing any sign of a change in attitude. "I hated being called Miss or Mrs. Wilson. That is who you are."

Now Peg was getting a little perturbed. "Then you hate yourself. I was you up to a less than a month ago. So if I get you right, you hate me."

"I never said that."

"But that's what you meant."

"No, I didn't," John said. She really did love her wife. Shift or no Shift, and the last thing John wanted to do was fight with Peg. "Let's move on to something else."

"Like moving on with our lives. We've got to accept who we are now," Peg said, concentrating on his driving. "That I'm John Wilson now and you are Margaret or Peg Wilson."

"Whatever."

Peg rolled his eyes at the hard headedness of her husband. He decided to change subjects. "What do you think about today? I mean the ultrasound exam?"

"It was okay, I guess."

"I'm excited that we are having a boy," Peg replied. He had already spent considerable time and thought on the choice of baby names. He decided it was now time to mention his choice. "What do you think of the name Chandler Daniel?"

Chandler was the maiden name of Peg Wilson. He had been born Margaret Eileen Chandler. Her grandfather had been named Daniel.

"Suits me. Anything you like."

Peg rolled her eyes again, wondering how he was going to put up with the next four months with his husband's attitude.

*****

Wednesday, August 23rd

Dear Diary,

I like Jolly Sue. I really do. She is one of my favorite nurses here.

Except when she wakes me up with her laughter at 2 a.m. That's what happened last night.

This room must not be far from the nurse's station. I have never asked Veronica or one of the nurses, but I hear noise from outside all the time. Usually it isn't a problem, but not last night. It sounded like they were having a party out there.

Sue has this laugh that has to be heard to be believed. High pitched and sort of stuttering. It's hard to describe. Plus she is always so cheerful. With two nurses named Sue around here, I jokingly refer to her as Jolly Sue.

Anyway, her laughter was out of control last night. I didn't say anything at first, thinking it was just an aberration or Jolly Sue would calm down on her own. After fifteen minutes I gave up and paged the nurse's station. Politely I asked them to tone it down, I was trying to sleep. It did quiet down.

Don't get me wrong; the staff here at LPCH is incredible. I have never had any complaints as to the doctors, nurses, nursing assistants or anyone. Yes, I complain about being on bedrest, but that isn't these people's fault. No sense taking it out on them.

I like all the staff but of course I have favorites. Aida, Jolly Sue, Brenda (Because she is hot! Don't tell her that, okay?), Pat and nursing assistant Rose. The doctors are good, even though Dr. Smithson has no personality. Maybe he lost it during the shift?

Their professionalism in caring for me makes this existence much more bearable if not enjoyable. After I get discharged, I plan on writing a letter to the Hospital's CEO complimenting everyone.

That's my two bits for today. Ciao!

*****

Thursday, August 24th

Dear Diary,

Just be grateful computers don't smell. Oi Vei!

What am I talking about? I had the most god-awful gas yesterday. Real stink bombs, and non-stop for most of the day. I wonder how fathers put up with their pregnant wives? Between gas and mood swings there must be a strong type of love in that man to keep him from running away screaming.

The gas is a little bit better this morning but still noxious. The only other thing to report is Karate class was in session yesterday afternoon. Those babies were really taking it out on me. You know I talk to them sometimes? I think they listen, too. If I talk to them I get a kick.

Spent much of yesterday chatting in the pregnancy room on AOL. Jack was around for a while, but I've got other friends. Jesse, Leesa and Linda to name a few.

That's all. Ciao!

*****

Saturday, August 26th

Dear Diary,

Yesterday was the most fun I've had since becoming a triplet incubator! What happened? I had some unannounced visitors.

Their names are Adrian and Stephanie. They are friends of Veronica and the real Rachel Klein. My friend the pediatric oncologist noticed I was down in the dumps on Thursday and called her friends.

Anyway, I have never met two odder or funnier people. This couple, yes they are a couple, had been a couple of gay men before the shift. When the shift happened they were having brunch with a lesbian couple. You can guess the result, the men became the women and vice versa. Okay, that's why it is so odd.

Sometimes I think there was some malevolent being that did this Shift for his, hers or its amusement.

These two ex-guys came to cheer me up. Neither seems fazed by the Shift and the consequences to their life. It's like, big deal.

Both these gals used to be drag queens. It appears once a drag queen, always a drag queen. They put on an act for me yesterday that was hysterical, impersonations of Liza Minelli, Barbra Streisand and others. Of course they don't need to be in drag anymore.

If this was their general commentary on life after the Shift and my utter lack of fashion sense, what do you expect from a man turned woman on a hospital bedrest? Hospital gowns by Versace? It put things a little bit more into perspective for me.

My new friends' visit did what Veronica hoped for. It cheered me up tremendously. I hit twenty-six weeks pregnant yesterday and the thought of being here another ten weeks had me very down. I still am not crazy about my present situation, but the 'girls' gave me a badly needed boost.

By the way, I wonder if Stephanie was the Steven or Stephen before that Veronica said was the sperm donor for the triplets. Stephanie never let on, maybe I should ask Veronica some time.

That's all, Folks! Ciao!

*****

Sunday, August 27th

Dear Diary,

Not much at all to report. I am still battling depression but declined medications from the doctor. I am just going to have to deal with it.

Veronica paid a visit to my Mountain View home to retrieve some more things for me. Mostly books and DVDs. It appears Lilah has cleared out of the house and didn't care too much about the state she left it in. I've got to wonder what is missing now, but won't lose sleep over it.

I still can't believe the hours Veronica works. She hasn't had a day off since the Shift, either. How does she keep going when she has her work and putting up with me? No question, Veronica is an amazing woman. Kind of cute, too.

I think it's time for a Godzilla movie. Either that or The Caine Mutiny. Yes, I've got those bedpan blues again. Ciao!

*****

Monday, August 28th

Or

Day Twenty-nine of a Man held hostage in a Triple Mom's body.

Dear Diary,

Yes, yesterday was my four-week anniversary of being in captivity.

Thank you for small miracles. ESPN in order to fill its programming schedule and faced with a dearth of still active major sporting events, has decided to re-air repeats of games played before. At least this gives me some programming options.

It did for much of yesterday. I watched a hockey game from last year, and one college basketball game. It didn't work last night when ESPN put on the Stanford-Cal game from 1982. That was the infamous 'Tiptoe through the Tubas' game when the Stanford band ran on the field during the final play of the game. Cal returned the five-lateral touchdown to win the game over Stanford.

Okay, I did watch the very end just for that one memorable play. Arguably the zaniest play in College Football history.

The only other noteworthy thing was Veronica being here for dinner. She has promised one night a week to bring dinner. Maybe this will be our Sunday tradition. I'm thankful for any break from the hospital dreck that substitutes for food.

Time to go. Ciao!

*****

"Peg? Is that you?" asked a mustached and balding but very fit man in his mid-forties, sticking his head into the classroom in which John formerly Peg Wilson taught the third grade.

John immediately looked up. He didn't recognize the man at all. For the former woman it was her first day back at work since the Shift. She was a teacher at St. Mary's Catholic School in San Jose, California.

"Yes, I'm Peg."

"It's me, Colleen," spoke Colleen Paige, a fourth-grade teacher and friend of Peg Wilson. "Can I come in?"

"Sure, Colleen," replied John Wilson. The third grade teacher got up from his chair and gave his friend a hug. "How are you?"

"Good. Yourself?"

"Fine. Sorry I didn't recognize you." John Wilson didn't always have a good memory for names. She knew the face but couldn't quite place where she had met the man before. Now John knew Colleen had shifted with her husband, whose name was Larry.

"No problem, it's understandable," Colleen Paige replied. While John Wilson sat himself back down, Colleen went to retrieve a chair so he could talk with his friend. "So are you looking forward to the new school year?"

"Kind of. It is certainly going to be different."

"Yes, it will. Fr. Duncan isn't sure how many students we will have yet."

"Yes, I already heard that," John replied. There was a faculty meeting starting in another thirty minutes and that was going to be one of the many topics on the agenda. Would St. Mary's still be in need of two fourth grade teachers?

Yet John didn't think that was why Colleen was here chatting with her. Something appeared to be bothering the man or there was something he wanted to talk about. So John decided to try finding out. "So, how have you been coping since the shift?"

"I'm okay. I suppose you and John swapped."

"Yes, we did. We were at SFO when the shift occurred," John replied. Colleen had come to the Wilson's wedding, but not Larry. "It was a real mess. We were in the Singapore Airlines club at the time."

"We were at home. I was tending to Sandy and Larry was in the next-door bathroom." Sandy was the Paige's fifteen-year-old daughter. "How are John and you coping?"

"I'm okay, I guess, I'd be better if Peg or John was doing better." John gave Colleen a quick rundown of the happenings in the Wilson's lives since the shift. "She feels sorry for herself and complains about almost everything."

"I'm sorry."

"How are Sandy and Larry?"

By the change in Colleen's facial expression, John Wilson guessed what he may have inadvertently stumbled on what was troubling his friend. "Not too good. I swapped into Larry, Sandy swapped into me and Larry swapped into Sandy."

"Oh my, that's terrible," John replied. This was only his second year as a teacher at St. Mary's, but the father to be was very familiar with the story of Colleen's family. The Paiges had four children, but only one was living today. Five years earlier a car driven by Colleen's father and with the four children and her mother also inside was run into by a car going in excess of ninety miles per hour. All the children but Sandy were killed instantly. The grandparents fared only slightly better, both dying within twenty-four hours. Sandy, a talented gymnast, survived but was paralyzed from the waist down.

"Yes it is," replied Colleen on the verge of tears. "I feel so overwhelmed."

"I can only imagine. It had to be a big shock to Larry."

"Yes it was. Still is," Colleen replied. Her husband Larry had always been a physical fitness fanatic. Suddenly placed in the body of his crippled daughter was an immense shock to her system. "I just don't know what to do sometimes. I'd like to get Larry help, but it's just about impossible at the moment."

"Colleen if there is anything I can do to help?" John said, patting his friend's hand.

"Thanks, Peg, I appreciate you listening. Right now Sandy is caring for Larry. She was delighted to be out of her wheelchair but not at what cost it was to her father. She is totally devoted to him now."

"I'm glad to hear that," John said with a tear trickling down his own face now.

The two schoolteachers talked for a short time more before deciding they had best head off to the auditorium for the scheduled faculty meeting.

On the way there John caught sight of his fellow teachers. Like the world, the faculty was altered tremendously by the shift. Ages varied tremendously from the seventies to children who would be in the first or second grade. John as was customary for him, said a prayer for all of his colleagues. That they could find peace in their altered lives.

It was while Fr. Duncan, now a middle-aged woman, was making introductory comments that a thought entered John's mind. Maybe he'd tell the story of the Paiges to Peg in order to shake his husband out of her self-pity. The father thought it was worth a shot.

*****

Wednesday, August 30th

Dear Diary,

Yawn, I'm bored. I'm also miserable. It's getting more and more difficult to get comfortable. I'm so @#%^! big I looked barely human in the mirror yesterday. (Bath day)

Oh, and I pee every two to three hours. I seem to alternate between constipation and loose bowel movements. Not to mention using a bedpan or commode. Only showering two times a week. The babies kick at any time of day or night. Sex life is non-existent. Yes, I think of sex, am I nuts? The food stinks, I'm alone, I'm a woman. What is there to look forward to each day?

One day closer to this being all over. But it has been a month already. I could still be pregnant in early November! Not likely, but not impossible, either.

It's just so tough being like this. Dependent on others for virtually everything. I cry sometimes about this. Then one of the babies kicks me. I made up my mind before that I would do my best for them. I just hate being like this, in bed and miserable.

Enough said for today. Ciao!

*****

Friday, September 1st

Dear Diary,

Today is twenty-seven weeks pregnant for me. One more week and I'm in the third trimester. That makes the babies' chances for survival even better in case of premature delivery.

I'm starting to feel contractions more often. At first I was concerned about this, but Brenda explained to me that this wasn't unusual for a triplet mom. The human female body isn't built to carry this many babies inside it. That causes the body to react. Or something like that.

What does a contraction feel like? Most of the time I get this dull ache in my lower back. These aren't too unpleasant and pass within a minute or so. I've also gotten much sharper pains sometimes. Those hurt!

How often am I contracting? I used to be contracting maybe six to ten times a day. Now I am approaching one an hour. To prevent labor, Dr. Crowe increased my terbutaline dosage. It's also being done via an I.V. now. Not in pill form. The increase in dosage gave me a case of the shakes yesterday afternoon but, it's better now.

Just another part of the ordeal I've got to go through. I'm not looking forward to labor, but know these are stopgap measures at most. Sometime in the next nine weeks I will give birth, probably by caesarian section.

Not much else to note or talk about. I still read and very occasionally post to that triplet connection board. There is just too much controversy there for me to want to post more often. That and my future plans don't really make me feel I fit in. Still, I skim it for sometimes useful information.

To post to the forum, I picked the name CrazyatLPCH. I don't give out my name or anything for my privacy's sake. This doesn't mean I don't get an occasional email thanks to this board. I've gotten a few including ones for me to join a mom's email list and one for guys turned triplet moms. There were also two others who I guess figured out where I lived and asked if I wanted a visit. One of these wrote earlier this week. I haven't made up my mind.

I still chat in the AOL Pregnancy room. This I do for about two hours a day. It's mostly for comic relief. We get these idiots who fake being in labor. In the room!

Well, that's it for today. Ciao!

*****

I had just finished eating lunch and was watching Law & Order when my nurse Pat came in the room. "Ms. Klein, I've got a question for you?"

"Shoot, Pat," I replied, still engrossed in my television show.

"You wouldn't happen to be CrazyatLPCH?"

I thought for a moment before answering. "Yes, I am. Why?"

"You have a visitor," Pat explained with a slight grin. "I thought it had to be you."

"Because I'm the crazy one on the floor?"

"Kind of," Pat laughed. "Plus you are the only patient who fits the description in the antepartum unit. Don't worry, I know Jan. She is very nice. Do you want to meet her?"

"Sure, send her in." I thought I could use some company right now. A moment later a fairly attractive woman in her mid-thirties walked in. She was wearing a blouse and skirt and had medium length brown hair.

"Hi, you must be crazy?" the woman asked with a slight laugh.

"Yes, I am," I replied, laughing also. "My real name is Matt or Matthew Snyder. At least I was a he before the Shift."

"I'm Janet Timlin, but everyone calls me Jan. Nice to meet you, Matt."

"Nice to meet you. So what brings you here?" I asked, waving to my new friend to take a chair. Jan did so while also pulling it close up to the bed.

"Didn't you get my email?"

"Yes, I did. Sorry I didn't reply. I wasn't absolutely sure I wanted company, but I was still thinking it over. Please understand."

"I understand perfectly. So, how long have you been here at Packard?"

"Since the Shift happened."

"So, you were the children's father?"

"No, not exactly. I was driving on the 101 and got shifted into this body." I then gave Jan a short rundown of what happened. She listened attentively but showed no sign of whether she believed my story or not.

Pat walked in right then. "Ms. Klein, sorry to interrupt, when did you finish eating lunch?"

"One o'clock," I answered. "Pat, tell Jan here what I was doing when the Shift happened."

"I believe, Ms. Klein, you said you were driving somewhere nearby."

"The 101 to be exact. And I was a man then."

"So you said. And said and said..." Pat laughed.

"Matt, I was a little skeptical before meeting you. Not now, I believe Pat. We go back a long ways," said Jan.

"Yes, Pat told me," I replied. "How do you two know one another?"

Before Jan got a chance to reply, Pat spoke up. "I'll let Jan explain. Time for me to get back to work. See you later."

After Pat was out of the room, she answered my question. "I had my triplets here at LPCH. Pat was one of my nurses back then."

"So you know most of the nurses on the floor?"

"Some," Jan said, running off the names Brenda, Sue, Aida and a few I didn't know. "They are really the best."

"I agree. The nurses are wonderful here. I'm curious, what is your screen name at the connection?"

"Jumpergrl."

"Why that name?"

"A long time ago I was in the US Army and served with the 82nd Airborne. They are parachutists, but I never did jump out of a plane. I was administrative. Therefore, Jumpergrl."

"Oh, sort of an inside joke, then?"

"Yes, kind of," Jan laughed.

"Mine is CrazyatLPCH. I thought it was appropriate. I've been here five weeks and I am certifiable."

Jan laughed. "I can understand. When I had the girls I spent the last five weeks here at Packard. That's how I know Pat and the nurses here."

"Yes, being on bedrest isn't easy."

"No it isn't. How many weeks are you?"

"Twenty-seven exactly today."

"You may not have that much longer, then."

"Yes, I discovered that, days, weeks or months. Thirty-two weeks is average for triplets."

"Yes, just about."

"You have triplets, right" I asked. It was not a dumb question. Some of the people at the connection had quads or quints.

"Yes, triplets, three identical girls," Jan said proudly. "Would you like to see a photo of them?"

"Sure." Jan then reached into her purse and took out her wallet.

The picture showed three identical looking girls in identical dresses with their hair made up the same identical way. Jan pointed the girls out for me. "On the left is Jennifer, in the middle is Jessica and on the right is Jasmine."

"They're beautiful," I replied. They honestly were.

"Thank you," Jan replied, and put her wallet back in her purse.

"How old are they, five?"

"Six, but seven in January."

"They must be in school then?" I asked.

"Yes, the first grade."

"Do you have any other children?"

"A boy aged ten. His name is James or Jimmy."

"This or these are my first."

"You became the mother," Jan began saying. "Is the father still around or the original mother?"

"The couple who were having the baby," I began explaining, "their names are Rachel and Veronica. They were gay. I became Rachel. Veronica is still around; she is a doctor here at Packard. Pediatric Oncology, but we never discovered what happened to the real Rachel."

"Oh, that's terrible."

"Yes, it is. I was highly upset after the Shift, you can ask Pat or Sue how upset I was."

"That's all right. The Shift was traumatic for many people."

"Yes, it was. I even for a while considered ending the pregnancy," I confided.

The room got awfully silent for a minute. Even though I think most people think a woman should have the choice of abortion, I think most women find that reprehensible or unthinkable. "But I didn't. I couldn't do it, I can't kill someone."

"That's good." Jan seemed to lighten up.

"I promised Veronica I would do my best."

"That's very kind of you. I'm sure she appreciates it."

"Yes, Veronica does. She brings food, videotapes, newspapers, and magazines for me. It helps to relieve some of the boredom."

"I remember when I was on bedrest. The boredom was bad for me, too," Jan admitted.

"When did you have your girls?"

"January 7th, 1994. They were born at thirty-four weeks and two days."

"That's pretty long," I remarked. "How long did the girls spend in the NICU?"

"Jessica and Jasmine were in for fourteen days. Jennifer for sixteen. They only had minor premature issues."

"That's good. How are they today?"

"Very normal and precocious six-year-olds."

"That's good."

"Before the shift, you didn't have a wife or family?" Jan asked. It was really her turn, 'til now I had been doing most of the asking.

"No children, I did have a live-in girlfriend. Her name is Lilah but our relationship is over now."

"I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about."

"What type of work do you do?"

"I'm a stockbroker and financial planner with Smith Barney. My office is in Sunnyvale," I answered. "You?"

"Stay at home Mom. Though since the girls are in school now I've been toying with returning to work."

"Oh, what did you do in the past?"

"Legal Secretary. My husband Don is an airline pilot."

"Oh, he didn't..." I began to say. The reports of the plane crashes when the Shift happened...

"No, Don wasn't flying when the Shift happened. Thanks be to God," Jan replied. "They were still preparing for a flight to Hawaii. He pilots a 767. But Don did shift with one of the flight attendants."

"That's good. I mean, that he wasn't flying."

"Except it was one of the female attendants. My husband is now a twenty-three year old Japanese woman," Jan said. It was obvious this was a touchy subject.

"I'm sorry."

"We're both... I mean we're trying to stay together for the children's sake. It's just very difficult. I mean for me and Don getting used to things."

"I'm sure it is," I said, feeling sorry for my friend's plight. It was nice having someone to talk to and I appreciated Jan's visit. "How are the children?"

"All good. Jimmy swapped with his friend Tommy. They were both the same age. The girls swapped between each other."

"They're really just the same, then."

Jan laughed. "Yes, they are."

"Why did you come up and pay me a visit?"

"I saw your postings to TC and I was in the area today. Thought I'd stop by and say hello."

"Thank you very much for coming. I don't get many visitors. The loneliness is as bad as the boredom for me."

"I remember it all very well. My mother-in-law stayed with me a few nights a week. There was Don, my sister Tracy and friends that came," Jan recalled. "Still, most of the time I was alone."

"Where do you live?"

"Have you heard of Willow Glen?"

"Yes, I have. I have a home in Mountain View."

"When the Shift is over..." Jan began saying.

"I'm going back to my own life," I said, shrugging my shoulders. "This isn't my life or even my children. After giving birth, Veronica will raise them."

Jan didn't say anything about my future plans, so I don't know if she agreed or disagreed. "You are having Boy Girl Boy?"

"No, Girl Boy Girl."

"Okay. Have you or Veronica picked out baby names?"

"Veronica did. Sarah, Benjamin and Mariel."

"Those are nice names," Jan smiled.

"Yes, I think so, too. Veronica and Rachel are Jewish."

Jan and I talked another half hour. Then my friend said she had to get going. She would have to pick up her girls from school soon.

"Nice meeting you, Matt, I will pray for you, Veronica and the babies."

"Thank you, and thank you for coming to visit me."

"You're welcome," Jan said, slinging her purse over her shoulder. Then I remembered one thing I wanted to ask.

"Jan, I wanted to get some things for Veronica and the babies after they are born. Maybe you can help me."

"Sure, what do you need or want to get?"

"I'm not totally sure yet. But I want to get a stroller for the children?"

"Roundabout or triplet stroller?"

I had read at the connection about the advantages and disadvantages of both of these. "Triplet stroller."

"Mine I sold, but there are a few moms in our local triplet moms group who could probably help you out," Jan replied.

"Thanks, I'd appreciate that."

"You still have my email?" Jan asked. Yes, I remembered it, Jttriplets@att,com and told Jan so. "Let me ask around about it and I will get back to you this weekend."

"Thanks, Jan, for everything."

"You're quite welcome. If you ever change your mind, my local moms group would love to have you. There is also an email group I can suggest."

"I'll think about it." Jan and I said our final good-byes, then my friend left the room.

Five minutes later nursing assistant Marie came in the room. "You know what time it is for now, Ms. Klein."

"Yipee. I get to take a shower."

*****

Saturday, September 2nd

Dear Diary,

I had a surprise visitor yesterday. Jan from the triplet connection. She and I talked for over an hour. It was very kind of her to visit me.

Another weekend is upon me. ESPN is devoting it reruns to old college football games. I never followed the sport in depth, so I guess I'll watch. It should be like watching games for the first time.

Nothing else to report. Ciao!

*****

"I don't give a damn about your stinking friends, the Paiges. If I want to take pity on myself it's my right!" screamed Peg Wilson.

John and Peg Wilson were sitting in the living room of their house. While Peg was flipping channels with a television remote, John had just tried striking up a conversation. With combative results. "Peg, please..."

"I hate being called Peg, I hate being you. I hate everything."

"You hate us then?"

"I didn't say that," Peg said angrily.

"But that's what you meant."

"No it wasn't, and stop putting words in my mouth!" Peg Wilson then got up off the couch in a huff and marched right to the master bedroom. The mother to be slammed the door closed behind her.

John just stared at the wall in silence.

*****

Monday, September 4th

Dear Diary,

Another weekend has passed, except this one is longer than usual. It's Labor Day today. Let's pray that's not what literally will happen to me today.

A&E has an all day Law & Order festival. I guess I will watch that. Five of the episodes according to the channel guide feature Jill Hennessey. Now that will help to pass the time of day.

Veronica was here for dinner last night. She brought spare ribs. They were delicious, and my friend was good company though I was being bitchy to be honest. Had a tough time sleeping Saturday night. My friend would be more than justified in slapping me around for my ingratitude, but she'd never do it.

Jan wrote me back. She found someone who would sell me a triplet stroller. This mother will either email or call me. I replied to Jan it was all right to give her my phone number and email address.

Five minutes to L&O. Happy Holiday.

*****

Wednesday, September 6th

Dear Diary,

Do I have a life? All day I lay in this bed staring at the walls trying to preserve my sanity. How do I do it? Watching television, chatting on the Internet, doing physical therapy and reading are just a few of the ways I try to fill my day.

Yet they are all very tiresome now. I'd do anything to get outside and breathe fresh air. Walk on my own two feet. Size eight and flats, not heels. Tee-shirt and jeans or pants. No makeup, that's a definite. Bra I have no choice. Get this unruly hair of mine trimmed, too.

Find a spa and soak in a hot tub for a day. Hmm... with a margarita in one hand. That's the life. Any life that consists of being outside this hospital.

See, I am resigned to my fate of being a woman the rest of my life. It's like, what can I do about it? There are Female to Male sex change operations, but I haven't studied about them. Maybe I'll do a web search. Even before I'd do it, how can they...well, rebuild my penis?

Maybe it's not an idea. So accept that I am a member of the female gender and all that means? No, I can live my life, not fit anyone's preconceived notions.

Like letting Veronica raise the babies. I'm not a mother, never wanted to be one, not before the Shift nor now. I'm not even sure I wanted ever to be a father. Look at me before the Shift, thirty-six and childless and Lilah and I had been together nine years. It's just too many hassles, the children become the focus of your life. I'd rather do anything else but change poop diapers for three years. Diapers for three? Never, no way. I'm going to have these babies and as soon as I'm well enough, move on.

What are my future plans? Smith Barney, of course. The markets may re-open next month, I'm sure it will be freefall time. Personal life? Paper or plastic? Celibacy or lesbianism? No amount of television shows will convince me to pursue heterosexuality in any form. Yes, the television networks, and Lifetime like playing up men turned women after the Shift taking on female roles. If I see one more guy turned gal flipping out over a positive pregnancy test, I'll puke. Heck, ABC thinks these guys puking their guts out are cute. Not for me.

The good news, Rachel was a lesbian before the shift. I still like an attractive woman. Veronica is one, but mother to three, that's a definite no-go scenario. How about Jill Hennessey? Don't say it, don't! If I'm lucky I'll find someone, maybe another former guy like myself. One who shares my interests. No more arguing about a concert or a San Jose Shark game for what to do one evening. Sounds acceptable if not exhilarating.

That is the end of today's diatribe. Ciao!

*****

Thursday, September 7th

Dear Diary,

I needed earplugs yesterday. We had a mom in the next-door room delivering a baby. She was a moaner/screamer type. Then Jolly Sue was at it again around 2:30. A polite call to the nurse's station fixed that.

Veronica has a terrible cold and should be home but continues to work. I feel sorry for her; life has to be pretty miserable for her now.

End of the daily report. Ciao!”

*****

"Oh, shit! Why aren't I surprised?" Peg Wilson exclaimed on reading the notice inside the front door of Stanford University's registrar's office. The expectant mother had almost expected this to happen. The fall term at Stanford's law school had been officially canceled. Students were told to check back after October 15th.

Having no choice in the matter, Peg Wilson began the long trek back to her car. Like most major universities, parking was at a premium and usually meant lengthy walks. John Wilson never complained, but Peg did. Her feet were killing her that day. Just another of the lovely side effects of being pregnant.

After Peg made the long trek back to her car, she climbed in and just sat there thinking for a few minutes. Without law school, what was she supposed to do for the next few months? Her new and unwanted female body had given her a job. To gestate and then give birth to a baby boy. A job Peg Wilson still resented.

"Just great, I'll be lucky to return to law school before the fall of 2001," Peg Wilson said as she started up her car. The boy was due January 7th. That would probably preclude her from going to law school in the coming January. "Can my life get any worse?"

The drive to the Wilson home normally takes thirty minutes, but traffic was heavier than normal on that Tuesday morning. Getting off the 101, Peg decided it was time to get gas and pulled into an Amoco gas station.

In addition to needing gas, Peg needed to buy a loaf of bread. Waiting in line to settle with the gas station, her vision was drawn to one particular piece of merchandise on sale at the cash register.

'Oh hell, why not? I really need one now,' Peg thought, deciding to make an additional last moment purchase.

When John Wilson got home from school that afternoon at 4:23, he immediately knew something was wrong or out of place. He could smell it.

"Peg, I'm home," John called, kicking off his shoes once inside the front door.

A moment later Peg came out of the bedroom. Before she came over to greet John, she stubbed out a cigarette in an improvised ashtray.

'I knew it. She took up smoking again. What for?' John thought as Peg gave him a hug and kiss.

"How was your day?" Peg asked after the kiss ended.

"Okay, I guess. Yours?"

"Classes were canceled at Stanford for the term," Peg said, straightening out the living room. The expectant mother was sometimes lazy to do housework.

"That wasn't too much of a surprise."

"But now I have to wait until January at least. What am I supposed to do now?"

John took in a deep breath before his next comment. "I thought you already found something to do."

"You mean the cigarettes," Peg replied, still doing her mock housecleaning. "Well, I need a way to deal with the stress."

John raised an eyebrow. "By smoking? We both gave up smoking, it's no good for either of us."

Peg wasn't affected by her husband's comment. "Deal with it. Because I'm going to do it no matter what you say."

"And what about Chandler? Smoking is no good for the baby."

Now Peg started to get annoyed with her husband's questioning. "I can do whatever I want! So fu- ...back off!"

"Peg, I am just thinking of..."

"Back off!" Peg said, dropping her dust rag. Then, storming off to the bedroom, the mother to be said, "You prepare dinner. I don't care."

As the bedroom door slammed closed behind Peg, John shook his head. 'What has happened to my wife or John? What am I to do?'

*****

Law and Order had just ended and it being Friday afternoon, I began to wonder why one of the nursing assistants hadn't come to give me my Friday bath. Then Veronica walked in the room. She was working seven to seven that day.

"Hey, are you all set?"

"Set for what?" I asked, puzzled by my friend's question.

"For your shower, dummy," Veronica replied.

"Where's Rose or Marie? Aren't you busy?" I replied, still surprised by what Veronica was planning.

"They're busy. And I've got a half hour of freedom. So let's get moving, big ass!"

I laughed at the last comment. "You've got me sold. But first a few things need to be done..."

Because of my being on bedrest, my showers required preparation. This was in order to limit the time I was out of my bed either standing up or sitting down. Either of which would cause pressure to be placed on my cervix.

So beforehand Veronica prepared my towels, soap, shampoo, and a footstool for me to get in and out of bed with. A new hospital gown for after my shower. No sense in putting the old one on. These and other steps took about five minutes for Veronica to do.

Also, my nurse for the day, Sue, came in the room. She unhooked my I.V. and disconnected me from the contraction monitor.

It was another two minutes before I was sitting in the shower, the water invigorating and refreshing me as I sat there. Then after turning off the water, Veronica started washing me from head to toe with a washcloth and bar of soap.

"What made you do this today?"

"I came up here around 11:30 to just say hi. At the time you were asleep, you had Price is Right on but you had fallen asleep."

"Yes, I had a bad night's sleep last night," I replied.

"I didn't want to disturb you. Anyway, I bumped into Sue and we talked a bit. She mentioned one of the two nursing assistants on the L&D floor had called in sick so they were short handed," Veronica explained. "Sue told me they weren't sure when or if you would get your bath today."

"Oh, I understand. So you volunteered?"

"Yes, I knew how much you look forward to your baths."

"Thanks. I really need these."

"I know. How am I doing?"

"Great," I replied. Veronica saved my hair for last. She did a good job shampooing it except for some of the soap getting in my eyes. After this was done she helped me out of the shower and began drying me off.

After catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I had something I just had to ask. "You must find me hideous looking?"

"What would make you say that?" Veronica asked in reply.

"I'm just so fat. Like an elephant, I'm ugly."

"You're not ugly at all," Veronica said, reassuring me. "Pregnancy brings out the beauty in a woman."

I wondered if Veronica was telling me the truth. She may well have been, my friend was very much in love with Rachel.

While I was in the shower, Sue had prepared the bed. After getting me dried off, Veronica helped me back into bed and immediately buzzed for my nurse. Sue was back in a minute and reattached my monitor and I.V.

"I'll be back at three to test your sugar," Sue said.

"Thanks, Sue." My nurse then left the room.

"So, how did I do?"

"Pretty good."

"Pretty good only?" Veronica said in mock shock.

"I give you a B plus. Because you got shampoo in my eyes," I explained.

Veronica laughed. "I feel I should at least get an A minus."

I thought for a moment. "If you give me a back and foot massage, I'll upgrade it to A. How about it?"

"That's a deal," Veronica replied. She instantly began massaging my neck. It felt so good.

For over ten minutes, Veronica gave me a thorough massage from neck to toes. Combined with my shower, it was so very relaxing. It also made a sense of relief come over me. I just felt so serene and at peace. No tension at all.

Veronica was about halfway down my legs, when I began feeling some pressure. "Stand back," I said.

"Stand back?"

"Just listen to what I have to say." Veronica complied just in the nick of time. I released one long, noisy and very smelly gas.

Veronica still got a dose from where she was now standing. Waving her hand back and forth, she said, "You're terrible!"

"At least I warned you."

"Thanks. Thanks a lot." After waiting a minute, Veronica returned to giving me the massage.

"Was Rachel bad at blowing gas after getting pregnant?"

Veronica nodded her head. "Yes, very. I'm not sure who is worse, you or her."

"Sorry, I couldn't help it."

"No problem."

I decided to make some small talk. "If you don't mind me asking, how long did you and Rachel know each other?"

Veronica was never nonplused by my questions about her and Rachel. Probably because I was respectful and never asked anything too intimate. "Ten years right about now."

"Where or how did you two meet?"

"We were both students at Cal Berkeley. A mutual friend introduced us."

"How long were the two of you together?" I asked. "Or married?"

"Rachel was married for two years back in 1993 to 1995," Veronica said. "We got committed to one another in February 1997."

"I'm sorry, forgot lesbians can't marry."

"That's all right."

"Rachel got a divorce then? Had no children?" I remembered a talk I had with Veronica before. Many lesbians were married before coming out as gay.

"Yes, she divorced Josh. They didn't have any kids," Veronica said. Then added, "She only got married to please her parents."

"I guess they didn't approve of Rachel being gay and with you?" I almost instantly regretted saying what I did. If what I said was true it would be a touchy matter.

Veronica didn't get upset at all by my question. "Yes, the Kleins never approved of me."

"Sorry, I shouldn't have asked. The foot massage you're giving me is wonderful. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Do I get that A now?"

"Yes, you do. Thanks, Veronica, for coming."

"You're very welcome," she said, finishing my massage. She then pulled the sheets and blanket back over me. "Is there anything else you need?"

"No, Veronica. Go get yourself something to eat now. You did enough for me today."

Veronica had one last thing to do. My hair was dry now. She removed the towel that was on my pillow. After returning from the bathroom, my friend came back over to me and held my hand. "Bye, Matt. Talk to you later."

"Bye, Veronica." My friend kissed me on the forehead and left the room.

*****

Saturday, September 9th

Dear Diary,

An interview of Pete Rose was featured on ESPN last night. He was unshifted; anyway, he is still claiming his innocence of betting on baseball. Ten years after being kicked out of the game. I never liked Rose, think he is a sleazeball and I'm certain he bet on the sport. Maybe one day we'll find out the truth.

Because of a shortage of nursing assistants, Veronica gave me a shower yesterday. We talked some about my friend's background. You know I dreamed about her last night? Me still as a guy and her, Veronica was there too. I don't recall much, the dream was all rather hazy.

Another weekend to survive. 'Til next time. Ciao!

*****

Monday, September 11th

Dear Diary,

I survived another weekend. Two days closer to the still unknown big day.

Really very little to report. Babies kick, Veronica had dinner with me Sunday night. She said she may be getting a weekend off soon. Poor thing needs a rest.

Jack brought more food. Spaghetti and Meatballs. They were delicious.

That's all for now. Ciao!

*****

Tuesday, September 12th

Dear Diary,

I spoke to Elaine, my boss at Smith Barney. She like almost everyone was shifted, she is male now. Anyway, she had been very worried over me but was glad to hear from me. The markets are tentatively reopening on the first Monday in October so I am not really missed at the office.

Elaine was advised of my situation. I will get leave from work, accrued vacation and sick days plus the Family Leave Act covers me. At the moment I told her that my return date was uncertain, it depends on when I deliver the babies. That will not be a problem; a letter from the doctor will be needed eventually.

One other issue was discussed. I wanted to get a new credit/ATM card for my Smith Barney account. Elaine said she would have to wait until advised by the main office. In cases such as mine, accounts have been frozen. I will probably have to sign some documents testifying that I am really Matthew Snyder. We get this accomplished by the end of the month.

I really want to repay Veronica for some of the expenses she has incurred for me. This will be my first priority as soon as I get access to my assets.

That's it for now. Ciao!

*****

Wednesday, September 13th

Dear Diary,

I had a visitor yesterday. Maggie, the mom from Jan's triplet mom group. She came to visit and brought me the triplet stroller. It looked perfect, but I told Maggie I had no money at the moment. She said I could pay her when I got out of the hospital.

We had a rather nice chat. Maggie is from England and has Boy Boy Girl triplets that are three years old. She has a wicked sense of humor and after chatting a bit realized we had friends in common. It was very nice meeting her.

Kickboxing class was in session almost all of yesterday afternoon. Boy, do those three think I am a punching bag. When they get too quiet sometimes, I worry something is wrong. Yesterday I think they all wanted to have a party.

That's it. Ciao!

*****

It was 2:20 a.m. on Wednesday night/Thursday morning when I woke up needing to pee. Day or night I always make sure my bedpan is within quick reach. That night it was on the tray table next to my bed.

I did my business, slipping the bedpan under my butt and urinating. All before calling for the nurse. I'd long since learned the rule of not calling for a nurse to empty the pan until I was done. They were busy and had other patients.

My habit was to put the bedpan back on the tray table, then buzz the nurse's station. I reached to put the bedpan on the tray table. Then catastrophe struck.

Not quite reaching the table with the pan and at the same time pushing the table back slightly, the pan fell over and backwards. Splashing both me and the bed with urine.

I immediately buzzed the nurse's station. "Yes?"

"I had an accident, I need help right away," was my calm reply. However, I didn't stay calm for long.

My nurse was Holly that night. She arrived in the room about a minute later, but by then I was already crying. "What happened?"

"I spilled the bedpan on me." As I cried, Holly came around the other side of the bed to assess the damage.

"Hang in there, I'll be right back," Holly said, and left the room.

"Why me? Why me? I'm hopeless," I said to the empty room.

Holly was back in maybe two minutes. With her was Aida. They helped me out of the bed and into the shower.

"I can't take a shower now. The doctor said I can only take two a week," I protested as I continued to cry.

"Don't worry about that. We'll take care of you," said Aida.

Aida and Holly stripped me of my clothes and gave me a quick shower. All during which I continued to cry, my helplessness totally overwhelming me.

My nurses had me washed and feeling refreshed in about five minutes. While they dried me, I had to mention another concern. "My bed, it's wet."

"Already being taken care of," Holly replied.

When the nurses were done, they helped me back to my bed. Sure enough, my bed was being taken care of. By Jolly Sue, who was as cheerful as ever. "Look, a brand new and fresh bed for you."

"Thank you," I said to my nurses as they got me back in bed. They apparently planned this. The night shift was usually quiet at the antepartum unit. By three of them working together, the time needed to clean me up and get the bed remade was considerably less. "The floor needs to be mopped."

"We know," Holly replied. "But first we need to get you back in bed."

I was soon back in bed, with the contraction monitor back on. Since my hair was still damp, a towel was placed on my pillow. Then all three nurses left the room.

A few minutes later Holly was back with a mop and bucket. As she cleaned up the mess on the floor, I asked her to do me a favor. "Could you beep Veronica, I mean Dr. Schwartz for me?"

"Can do." My nurse put down the mop and picked up the nearby phone. She then dialed the number I told her.

About five minutes later, and after Holly finished mopping up, Veronica was in the room. She looked haggard or half asleep. I had probably woken her up. "What's up?"

"Be careful, the floor is still damp. I had an accident," I replied barely in control of my emotions.

"Accident?"

"I spilled my bedpan," I answered. By the look on my friend's face, I don't think Veronica was too pleased with me waking her up for this. She didn't get a chance to remark on it, because I broke down crying again. "Why me? Why me? I can't even take a pee without making a spectacle of myself."

Veronica pulled up a chair and stayed with me as I cried. I'd been in this hospital and body for over a month. The longer I was here the worse it got. Can I ever have a normal life again?

The babies started kicking me, and I wasn't in any mood for this. "Will you please stop that? Now!"

Veronica frowned when I did this. "Matt, everything will be all right. Please calm down. For me, for the babies."

My friend was right, but I didn't listen right away. I was too consumed by my own ordeal. What made me consent to carrying these children 'til delivery? No, I had made that choice because the alternative was something I couldn't live with. My getting upset with the babies, Veronica, the staff at LPCH or life in general was wrong. Considering the havoc the Shift had done to the world, I was fortunate.

It took time, but I realized that my being upset was also upsetting both the babies and Veronica. "I'll calm down. I will."

Veronica's frown turned to a smile. "I'm always here for you, Matt. Don't ever forget that."

I eventually cried myself to sleep, thinking of only one thing. When was my ordeal going to end?

*****

Thursday, September 14th

Dear Diary,

I feel so humiliated. What happened? I spilled my bedpan last night onto myself. Right afterwards Aida, Jolly Sue and Holly came and cleaned me up and changed the bed sheets. Veronica also came and spent time with me. She was working last night. I cried myself to sleep.

I'm hopeless, I mean it. I can't even relieve myself without help. I hate myself right now. Everything about me.

I can't write anymore.

*****

Friday, September 15th

Dear Diary,

Another ho-hum day. Only two things of note to report. Adrian visited today and stayed for an hour. It appears she and Stephanie are going to do a Drag King act! Yes, you heard me right. I never knew such a thing existed before.

Jan called and we chatted for a half-hour. It was very kind of her to think of me.

I still feel depressed about what happened Wednesday night. I just feel so hopeless. That's all for today. Bye.

*****

Saturday, September 16th

Dear Diary,

You should have seen Price is Right yesterday. I laughed my head off.

I've said it earlier, but Bob Barker now resembles one of his Barker beauties. A blonde sexpot maybe in her mid-twenties, Bob has cleavage that would make Pamela Anderson envious. Particularly so since Pam is a flat chested eight-year-old boy now. Okay, back to Bob, they have her wearing these dresses or gowns now that don't show all that much of her cleavage. I wonder how the heck she deals with her microphone down there? LOL No, she carries one around the stage.

Okay, back to what happened yesterday. This fiftyish looking guy with a beer belly bids on a prize and wins. So the guy runs on stage right to Bob, then picks her up and starts like they're ballroom dancing, except Bob didn't have her feet on the ground.

Finally the guy puts Bob on the ground but not before giving her a big sloppy kiss on the lips. It was funnier watching it on television; I mean, I wish they had instant replay. It was hysterical.

At least for the moment I am not as depressed as I was after my accident this week. That's all for today. Ciao!

*****

As on every Sunday night, Veronica came with dinner for the two of us. Take out Chinese food from a local restaurant was on the menu for this Sunday. I only ate the salad from the dinner served by the hospital.

"How was your day?" I asked my friend as the two of us ate.

"Okay, I guess," Veronica said.

What Veronica said didn't ring true to me. So I decided to ask, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Something is wrong," I said, putting down my fork. "Veronica, I'm your friend. Tell me, what is going on?"

Veronica sat there in silence for maybe thirty seconds as she bit her lip. "I lost a patient today."

I knew my friend worked in oncology and in so doing must have had many dying patients before. There must have been something special about this one that was making Veronica act like this. "Tell me about him or her?"

"Her name was Pamela Godwin. She was fourteen years old," Veronica began to say, but stopped. I could tell this girl or child had touched her in some way.

"And? Tell me more," I goaded her.

"She died this morning. Pamela was only fourteen, but her birthday was Tuesday. Some of the staff were planning a party for her."

"What happened to her? I mean, what killed her?"

Veronica took a deep breath before replying. Obviously she was in some pain, but I was also aware of doctor-patient confidentiality. My friend may have been asking herself if it was right to tell me. "Pamela was being treated for metastatic bone cancer. She underwent radiation and chemotherapy treatment. There were signs she may have been going into remission, but on Friday Pamela started showing signs of heart failure. That's what killed her, Pamela's heart failed, probably the result or side effect of her cancer treatments."

My friend then gave a brief summary on the girl. Pamela Godwin had come to Lucille Packard less than four months earlier. She had gotten injured in a touch football game and some X-rays were ordered. At the time Pamela was a vivacious teenager, full of life and in Veronica's eyes a beautiful flower blooming toward womanhood. That was until routine X-rays showed the possibility of bone cancer. More extensive tests confirmed it as a more aggressive form of multiple myeloma. Pamela began her treatments in June.

"She died today?"

"This morning. 10:17 a.m."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. Sometimes this job just gets to me."

"You're human. You aren't a robot."

"I suppose so," Veronica said with her head down. "They teach you at medical school not to get emotionally involved with your patients."

"You want my opinion?" I asked, but honestly I was going to express my opinion no matter what. Veronica nodded, so I went ahead. "What they taught you at medical school is a crock."

Veronica just stared at the Chinese food on the plate in front of her. She had barely touched it since bringing dinner. I went ahead and gave the reasons for my opinion.

"Why do I say that? I'll tell you. You are a great doctor, because you do care for patients like Pamela Godwin."

"I sometimes hate my job," Veronica said, looking up. There were tears in her eyes.

"Truthfully, I could never do your job. I'm not strong enough. But Veronica, you are. Your humanity is what makes you an excellent doctor."

She blushed at my compliment. "Thank you."

"You show compassion to and care for critically sick children. I admire you for doing so," I told Veronica, who by now had tears coming down her cheeks. If I could have gotten out of bed, I would have gotten up and given my friend a hug. Instead, I picked up the box of Kleenex on my tray table and she came and took it from me. "Veronica, it's all right for you to cry."

She cried for about a minute. I told her that she did all she could do for Pamela. They fought the good fight, but sometimes your best isn't even good enough.

"Thanks, Matt," Veronica said, composing herself again. "Thank you for listening."

"You're welcome. What are friends for?" I replied. What Veronica had just said to me reminded me of another subject I had been delaying bringing up. Now I thought it was as good a time as any, "Veronica, there are a few things I wanted to talk to you about."

"Sure, go ahead."

"This may be a little touchy, and I'm sorry in advance if I offend you. That is not my intention, though."

"I understand. Ask away if you want."

I took a deep breath. "I know you never discovered what happened to Rachel. Because of this I feel sorry for you, I know how much she meant to you."

"Thank you."

"Wherever Rachel is now, whoever she is, I hope she is happy."

This brought on another crying episode from Veronica. Another thing I admired about her was her strength throughout all the tumult in her life after the shift. Other than our initial meetings, and she had good cause then, Veronica had never gotten upset or cried in my presence.

"I hope so, too. I pray for her every day," she replied.

"The reason I bring this is up, is because I've been thinking. Unless a miracle occurs, I'm going to be a female the rest of my life."

"They never did find out why the Shift happened."

"Nope, and it's unlikely they'd ever find a way to reverse it," I replied, and took a deep breath again. "Since I'm a woman now I think Matt or Matthew isn't suitable for me anymore."

"Yes, I think you're right," Veronica said, having stopped crying and now giving give a glimpse of a smile.

"I was thinking, and I don't mean to upset you, and if you object I won't do it. What I was going to do was take the name Rachel. Rachel Snyder."

Veronica was silent for a few moments before replying. Probably thinking over what I had just said. "Okay, I don't object."

"Veronica, I had to ask, I respect you."

"Thank you. I have no objection."

"Okay, then it's settled," I replied. "Ever since the Shift I have been called Ms. Klein or Rachel. I thought Rachel was as good a name as any. Anyway, don't I look like a Rachel?"

"Yes, you do."

"Of course, I took over Rachel's job, too. I mean gestating the triplets."

"You're doing great at it. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I became Rachel, became her and your babies' incubator," I said. I still wouldn't or couldn't refer to myself as a mother. "Maybe Rachel wouldn't mind me taking her name. Just her first name, of course."

"No, I don't think Rachel would object."

"I needed to bring this up about my name. You know already, I never wanted to be a woman or mother."

"Yes, I recall."

"I was very unhappy and upset in the beginning. Honestly, I'm still not happy but I've got to just accept and move on with my life. But I won't do it until I'm done with these three babies. I won't endanger them."

"Thank you, thank you." Veronica came over from her chair and gave me a hug and kiss. "Thank you, Matt. I mean Rachel."

"You're welcome," I answered. Veronica stood by the bed holding my hand. I had already finished dinner. The Chinese food was a big improvement over the hospital food. "There was one other thing I wanted to ask or mention."

"Go ahead."

"Do you or I mean Rachel have health insurance?" I asked. "I've got to guess the hospital bills are going to be enormous for this hospital stay."

"Yes, we both do," Veronica explained. "Me through the hospital and Rachel through her work."

"Oh, Rachel worked? What was her job?"

"She was the office manager for a shipping company in San Jose."

"Oh, I guess she is on medical or family leave then?"

"Yes. She went on leave as of July 10th. Rachel was probably not going to return to work. She wanted to be a Stay at Home Mom."

"If I were in Rachel's shoes, I'd probably do the same. Of course I'm not, because I'm stuck in this freaking bed! What good are shoes to me when I'm like this!?!"

Veronica laughed. "Yes, you are. But not for much longer."

"I guess you're paying Rachel's insurance premiums then."

"Yes, I am," Veronica answered.

"What are your plans after the babies come home? You're so busy here at the hospital, I mean. Sorry if I'm being too nosy."

"No, you're not being nosy," she answered. "I guess I will have to hire a nanny for the children."

'That will cost money. And it will have to be full-time, even live-in with your hours. But I guess you have that figured out already,' I thought, wondering what Veronica's financial situation was like. But that was probably none of my business and I decided not to ask. "You or Rachel have any family?"

Veronica continued to be upfront with me. Sometimes when I asked personal questions I expected my friend to not answer. They weren't my business, and she didn't have to tell me. But Veronica never did this. She was as upfront with me as I was with her. "My parents died in 1996 and 1998. I have a brother, but we aren't close."

"Rachel?"

"Her parents are back in Massachusetts. She has a sister in Rhode Island."

"Oh." I decided not to inquire anymore. I'd probably start getting too personal in the questions I would be asking.

However, I did wonder if Rachel's family knew what had happened. They had never called the hospital in the time I had been in LPCH. I guessed they kept in touch with Veronica somehow.

"I was just being curious."

"No problem," Veronica replied. She had gone back to her dinner and was almost finished eating. Her appetite had returned after our little talk.

Right then Jolly Sue walked into the room. "Good evening, Ms. Klein. How are you tonight?"

"Okay, you wouldn't happen to have a get out of jail free card for me? I could really use one now." It didn't take me long to get the response I was hoping for.

Sue laughed very hard at my little joke. That very unique, distinctive and sometimes annoying laugh. "No, sorry, we're all out of them at the moment. Good evening, Dr. Schwartz."

"Hello, Sue. Isn't she the comedienne?"

"Yes, she is. Ms. Klein is one of my favorites here," Jolly Sue said as she began to take my blood pressure.

I had to remain silent and not move during this. At the same time Veronica got up and disposed of the empty food containers and paper plates.

After finishing with my blood pressure and taking my temperature, Jolly Sue had a question to ask. "You just finish eating?"

"Yes, just a few minutes ago. You can do my blood sugar at 10."

"Gotcha, anything else you need now?"

"No, Sue. Just my sleeping pill later."

"I'll bring it when I come for your blood sugar if that's okay?" Sue asked. I said that would be fine. My nurse then left the room.

"If you don't need anything else, I'm gonna go now," Veronica said.

"No, I'm fine. Thank you for the food and staying with me."

"You're welcome, and thank you for listening to me."

"No problem. What's your shift tomorrow?"

"Seven to Seven."

'Veronica, I don't know how you do it. Work, putting up with me. You are incredible,' I thought. "You'd better get going then."

Having finished cleaning up, Veronica came over to my bed and kissed me while putting her hand on my stomach. "Good night, Rachel. Sleep well. You too, babies."

Right then someone gave Veronica and me a kick. The children's other mother felt it, too. I could tell by the smile that formed on her face. "Good babies. Saying goodnight to Mommy. I think."

Veronica had one last thing to do before leaving. She made sure my tray table was conveniently close to my bed. "I think they know you're going."

"Maybe. Bye, Rachel."

"Bye, Veronica." I then watched my friend leave the room.

*****

Tuesday, September 19th

Dear Diary,

Only one thing to report in an otherwise unremarkable day. An interesting chat room or instant message discussion I had.

I was in the pregnancy chat room talking about nothing in particular. The usual morning crowd were there - Leesa, Jim, Linda, Val, etc.

One woman started asking about me having triplets. Her name is Deidra and she has been in the room before but hadn't talked all that much. I was very surprised when she Instant Messaged me.

Deidra asked me a bunch of questions about my pregnancy, bedrest, etc. I felt like chatting so I answered her queries. It was when I mentioned this diary I kept that Deidra said something interesting.

She said there may be a market for my diary. I mean, have it published. Deidra seems to know something about the book publishing business and told me I should consider this after I have the babies.

Publish this diary? I never even considered that when I began writing. This diary or you my microchip friend were just a release for me. A way to fill my days or sometimes to vent my anger and or frustration. Supposedly there is a market for these kind of books, too.

Am I going to publish you when I'm done? First of all, I don't know if this Deidra was leveling with me. When I asked her anything about the publishing business, she started getting vague or allusive. So I've got reason not to take this too seriously.

My second reason for not wanting to publish you. This diary is private. I don't want everyone to know my deepest thoughts. Don't say it - I'm turning into Marcia Brady!

'Til next time. Ciao!

*****

Wednesday, September 20th

Dear Diary,

Just some silly thoughts on what I wrote about yesterday. I thought about my diary and what if it was made into a movie or better yet a television sitcom. Who would be cast as me and Veronica?

How about Meg Ryan and Jill Hennessey? Meg plays me and Jill plays Veronica. Sound great? Even better, I play me so I can do Jill! Am I warped or what?

Don't answer that! That's all for today. Ciao!

*****

Thursday, September 21st

Dear Diary,

Nothing new. Just another day of lying in bed and staring at the walls. I did have another ultrasound this morning. All three babies are estimated to weigh around 2.5-2.10 lbs each. These are supposed to be good weights for thirty weeks gestation. That is how many weeks I'll be tomorrow.

I think I'll sign online and play some chess. 'Til next time. Ciao!

*****

Additional September 21st diary entry.

Today's DS9 episode was Body Parts. Why didn't I think of this earlier? It's the one where because of a medical emergency the O'Brien's baby was transferred from Keiko to Major Kira. This was all done to accommodate Nana Visitor's real-life pregnancy.

Isn't it ironic how real-life and television like this are eerily similar? All the men in the world who are now pregnant women. I wonder if they feel like I do in regard to being pregnant? Or are there are a lot of them like my friend Jack? My own guess would be the former rather than the latter. It is kind of hard to tell being cooped up in this room all the time.

I also have to guess that the Shift put sex into a whole new perspective for many people. Why wouldn't it? A guy now a female has to cope with the possibility that any sexual intercourse she has could result in pregnancy.

Television news has been playing this new phenomenon up of late. Many former men who are interviewed swear they will either be celibate or a lesbian. Truthfully, I'm with them.

Then there are the others. Either the willing or the dumb. Guys turned gals who had sex and got pregnant either by choice or by accident. Sometimes I just think the media likes to report the outrageous. Like this guy who swapped with his live-in girlfriend. When she gets the pregnancy result back, the woman freaks out on live television. Even to the point of vomiting. I wonder if this was all staged.

Ah heck, why am I worried about these people? We all have to deal with the new reality whether we want to or not.

End of today's diatribe. Ciao!

*****

Friday, September 22nd

Dear Diary,

Thirty weeks pregnant exactly. The end of my ordeal is getting very close, and it couldn't come sooner. I am so uncomfortable.

Veronica had dinner with me last night. We talked about lots of things including this milestone. It appears thirty weeks is an important stage for triplets. The odds of post-birth complications go down now. That and every day more I go, it's less time in the NICU for the babies.

I still just want to be done with this pregnancy and back to my life. Veronica is excited about being a mother, but I'm not a mother. Just a baby incubator and a reluctant one. I vowed to do my best in regard to carrying Veronica's children, but after giving birth I am done. My obligation ends the day I leave the hospital.

Just another boring day at LPCH. Ciao!

*****

Saturday, September 23, 2000

Weekends are the worst days for me. No sports, little programming to keep me amused. I spend much of the day chatting online. Even this gets tiresome, there are some absolute idiots in the chat rooms today.

@#%^! No DS9 yesterday or today. It seems the channel that broadcasts the show needed to do some maintenance work. I taped an hour of static. Argh... I just wonder if they will show the missing episodes next week.

That tells you how boring my life is. I look forward to television repeats of a show I have already watched.

Veronica has a rare weekend off. She is spending it with me. Either talking, watching television or sometimes playing cards or scrabble. She will go out and bring food back for my meals also. A welcome break from the usual hospital dreck. I'm thankful for the change in diet and more grateful for her company.

I wonder if pro sports will ever get back on track again. My favorite sports, baseball, golf and football all have uphill climbs before they'll ever get started again if they do. Most of the athletes in these sports were as badly scrambled as the rest of the world. Some players are dead, like the entire Atlanta Falcons football team or Annika Sorrenstam. They were flying at the time of the shift.

There is talk about fielding teams with what is left or restarting pro golf tours with what players are available. I guess it would be the athletes who are still able to participate. Not everyone was shifted or had his or her sex changed. Some shifted with their fellow athletes. It's all conjecture at this point.

Just another diary entry. Ciao!

*****

"See you in two weeks, Mrs. Wilson," said the appointment clerk at Dr. Rosario Sanchez's office as she handed Peg an appointment card. Today was Monday, September 25th. The mother to be's next appointment was for October 10th at 9:30.

After getting the card, Peg left the doctor's office and walked her way to the elevator. A walk, not a waddle. The reluctant mother was still in the second trimester and while increasing in size, she was no invalid. At least, not yet.

'Two more weeks to my next appointment. I get to enter the third trimester. Lucky me? Unlucky me!' Peg thought to herself as she took the short elevator ride to the ground floor. Little had changed in the reluctant mother's attitude.

Today's visit to the doctor's office hadn't helped any. A 9:00 a.m. appointment, and only now at 12:15 was Peg able to go home. She was both tired and very hungry in addition to being angry at what she thought was inconsiderate treatment by the doctor's office. Peg was mostly annoyed over the lengthy delay at the doctor's office.

If Peg had thought more instead of getting angry, she would know the reasons for the lengthy office visit. Today the mother had to be tested for gestational diabetes. This glucose test took over an hour.

All expectant mothers are tested between weeks twenty-four and twenty-eight for this condition. Gestational diabetes develops in approximately one mother in twenty. The condition goes away after pregnancy.

This form of diabetes is directly a result of a woman being pregnant. The female body needs to produce extra insulin to meet the fetuses' needs. If the body doesn't produce enough insulin, gestational diabetes is usually the result.

While not threatening to either mother or baby, this form of diabetes can cause an exceptionally large baby. This can slow and complicate childbirth and necessitate a caesarian section.

To take the test, Peg had to drink a sugar solution. The best description of its taste is flat soda pop. An hour later blood was drawn from the expectant mother. This would determine if she was a candidate for gestational diabetes. Even if the first test was positive, a second and lengthier test called a glucose tolerance test would be done. Only if that result were positive would diabetes be diagnosed.

The diabetes test was the main but not only cause for the lengthy doctor's visit. Like most healthcare providers in the post Shift world, Dr. Sanchez was overwhelmed with patients. This meant lengthier than normal office visits for patients.

Peg appreciated none of these reasons. She only felt inconvenienced by the lengthy office visit. Much like her pregnancy had inconvenienced Peg.

Once at the ground floor, Peg got out of the elevator and turned right. A parking garage was directly adjacent and connected to the large medical office building. Free valet parking was complimentary for anyone with a doctor's appointment.

Once in the garage, Peg fumbled in her purse until she found the valet parking stub. A moment later an attendant had taken the ticket, grabbed her car keys and was off to retrieve the car. While the attendant was searching for the car, the new Mrs. Wilson lit and began smoking a cigarette. She was still doing it in defiance of both John and her baby's potential health. A minute later Peg's Nissan Altima was ready for her.

She got into the driver's seat. After making sure the mother was safely in the car, the attendant closed the driver side door. Peg handed the young man a one-dollar bill.

"Thank you, Ma'am," the attendant said, and then watched as Peg Wilson drove off.

'Ma'am. I'm doomed to be a Ma'am for the rest of my life. Why me?' Peg thought to herself as she drove home. She was still having problems with accepting what the Shift had done to her life. Would she ever accept it?

All Peg now saw were the inconveniences. Like her Law School studies temporarily put on hold. Stanford University had canceled the fall semester because of the shift. The school was hoping to re-open in early 2001.

On the other hand, John Wilson had returned to work. He was back teaching the third grade in a nearby elementary school. Peg was sometimes jealous or exasperated by how her husband just seemed to get all the lucky breaks in regard to their post-shift lives.

Once home Peg parked her car in the garage and went to retrieve the daily mail. Once this was accomplished, the mother went back inside the garage. Pushing a button near the home's entrance, the garage door began to close.

First thing Peg did once in her home was to take off her shoes. Her feet were killing her. This accomplished, the mother looked through the daily mail. A couple of bills and junk mail was all that had arrived.

Placing the mail on the kitchen table, Peg decided to survey what was in the refrigerator for lunch. What she found was rather slim pickings. No leftovers and only the makings for a salad.

She just wasn't in the mood for a salad right now. Not that she didn't find a salad appetizing; she did like them at dinnertime or occasionally for lunch. Something else would have to do, and Peg looked around. She found something nearby for which she was very much in the mood.

Two boxes of delectable Swiss chocolates. Shipped by John's parents who were at the moment touring Europe. The Chandlers had Fedexed some to California specifically for their daughter-in-law. After one bite, Peg was appreciative of what her in-laws had done for her.

Peg took the one half empty box and decided to indulge herself. The mother had already noticed or concluded that her tastes had changed as well as her body with the shift. One of these taste changes was a newfound love of chocolates. Not everything about life post-shift was bad.

Sitting down in a kitchen chair, Peg picked up a television remote control and began flipping channels while at the same time putting chocolates in her mouth. Her cigarettes were nearby if she wanted one. It would be at least another three hours before John Wilson got home from work.

*****

Tuesday, September 26th

Or Day Fifty-Eight of a Man held hostage in Triplet Mom's Body.

Dear Diary,

You haven't heard that one lately. That adds up to 1392 hours if you didn't know. By the way, no one knows what happened to Ted Koppel.

The big question is how many more days I have left. Only God knows, or maybe the three munchkins inside me.

I'm still female, fat/pregnant and miserable, but I guess you know that. Oh yeah, you're a computer, not human.

The stock markets re-open next Monday. I guess they'll tank bad, but how much? Anyone's guess is as good as mine. I have talked to my supervisor at Smith Barney, I gave her the news on my situation. My job is safe, but Elaine will be sending over some leave forms for me to sign later this week.

Not much else to say. Ciao!

*****

Later that day I got a visitor. Someone I had never seen before.

"Matthew Snyder?" the man in his late twenties or early thirties asked.

"Yes, that's me," I replied, looking up from my computer.

"This is for you." The man then handed me some papers. "Have a nice day."

My unannounced visitor was out of the room before I had a chance to read the documents I was given. I soon discovered why.

"You fucking lesbian bitch!" I screamed. I'd been served papers by my former live-in girlfriend Lilah. She was suing me for palimony. "You cheating bitch, how dare you."

My blood really was boiling because of the outrage I felt. The woman first cheats on me with another woman then sues me. What chutzpah the bitch had.

While swearing at my empty room, and so caught up in my anger, I didn't notice two things. First the babies started kicking me. All three of them at once. This wasn't all that unusual, I had already learned they seemed to react to my mood swings.

The second thing I didn't notice was I began contracting. I was still fuming when my nurse Pat entered the room.

"What's wrong?" Pat asked as soon as she was totally in the room. She must have heard my yelling from outside.

"My ex-girlfriend just served papers on me. She's suing me for palimony!" I barely avoided yelling.

Pat looked sympathetic, but immediately voiced the reason she had come into the room. "You've had two contractions in the last five minutes."

That was a definite wake up call for me in spite of the anger I felt toward Lilah. I still dreaded childbirth, and I also knew it was very early to have these babies.

"You need to calm down," Pat added. "You can't get so angry."

"I'll try," I answered. Right then I could use someone to talk to. "I'm sorry, but I just feel so outraged and hurt."

"I understand. Would you like for me to get you something?"

"You mean like a tranquilizer or anxiety pill?"

"Yes. I can call Dr. Crowe's office and see if they will prescribe it for you."

I thought for a moment. "No, it's not necessary. Just wish I had someone to talk to now."

"I'm busy right now, later maybe," Pat replied. "Or would you like me to page Dr. Schwartz to stop by?"

"Yes, Pat, please do that," I replied. Then felt a sharp back pain. 'Please, not now. Calm down.'

Pat went out and paged Veronica for me. It was about fifteen minutes before she showed up.

"What's going on?" Veronica asked, looking concerned.

"Do you have some time? I just need to talk to you about something."

"Sure, I can spare fifteen minutes," she replied, and pulled a chair up to the bed. I then explained what had just happened.

Veronica listened sympathetically without saying a word until I was done. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. I'm just so upset. Can't believe Lilah would do this to me."

"Some people are just selfish."

"Yes, they are." Not admitting to my own selfishness.

"Are you doing better now?" Veronica asked.

"Yes, thanks for listening." I was still angry, but had the emotions under control. Right then Pat walked back into the room.

"Hi, Pat," Veronica said.

"Hello, Dr. Schwartz," Pat answered, going straight to the contraction monitor next to my bed. I hadn't felt a contraction since the nurse left the room almost a half hour earlier, but knew that didn't mean anything.

"How am I doing?" I asked. Before Pat got around to answering, the Radio City Rockettes started up again. "Hey, you three in there, Mom...I mean I'm fine now."

"You haven't contracted in about twenty minutes by my calculations," Pat replied. Veronica by now had placed a hand on my stomach to feel the babies' kicks. They continued to kick as if they knew their mother was there. "Doing better?"

"Yes, Pat. Sorry about earlier."

"Nothing to be sorry about," Pat smiled back. "I'm glad you're doing better. Be back in a little bit to test your sugar."

Veronica waited until Pat was out of the room to speak up. Now she was holding my hand. "Better now?"

"Very much. Thank you for coming down and listening."

"You're welcome," Veronica smiled. "I know of an attorney who can help you with your problem. Do you have Stephanie or Adrian's email address?"

"Yes. Why?" I knew neither of my drag friends were attorneys.

"Stephanie or Adrian also will know the name and telephone number for the attorney. It's Marshall something. I think he has an office in Milbrae."

"Thanks, Veronica. I'll write them right away."

"Anything else you need now?" she asked. I knew I was taking her away from her job.

"My mind back, a chocolate milk shake. How about a week's vacation on an island where women wear no tops?" I quipped, and Veronica had a good laugh.

"Will you settle for Chinese food for dinner tonight?"

"How did you know I want Chinese?" I replied. "Bring it, please."

"Will do. If there isn't anything else, I've got to get back to work."

"Nothing. Bye, Veronica. Thanks for listening," I answered and then thought of something. "Could you set the laptop out for me?"

Doing as I wished, Veronica had the laptop out, set up, and plugged into the phone line for me within two minutes. "All set now?"

"Perfect. Thank you. I promise not to get upset again."

"No problem."

"Bye, Veronica. Thank you for everything."

"Bye, Rachel. Thanks for taking care of the babies." Veronica gave me a kiss before leaving the room.

As soon as Veronica left I signed onto America Online. The first thing I did was begin composing an email to Adrian.

*****

Wednesday, September 27th

Dear Diary,

The worthless bitch is suing me!

Okay, I got that out of me. I'm calm again.

My ex-girlfriend, the late blooming lesbian, the @##%! bitch, okay, I mean Lilah is suing me for palimony. She who cheated on me!

Calm down again, breathe. What do I plan to do, you ask? Hire my own attorney. I've been referred to one by Adrian, and I'll call him later.

I had a good dinner and talk with Veronica yesterday. She tried explaining to me why Lilah came out as a lesbian when she did. That my girlfriend was probably closeted for many years. Veronica said Lilah is not the oldest woman to come out as gay, either. Some have done it in their fifties or sixties.

It all makes sense to me. But why wasn't Lilah up front with me before now? Do I deserve to be sued?

Seems like just another hassle in my new life. When will they ever end? Enough venting. Adrian promised she and Stephanie would be stopping by in the next few days. They are always good for a few laughs.

Bye for now.

*****

Thursday, September 28th

Dear Diary,

Elaine from my Smith Barney office visited today. We had a good chat that lasted almost an hour. She took a little while getting used to my new situation, but she had some good luck. Elaine swapped with her husband Hank, so I've got a male boss now.

I'm on leave until January 2, 2001. Elaine left me some forms that I filled out, and now only await a letter from Dr. Crowe stating my condition and when I should be able to return to work. All part of the Family Leave Act. I never thought I'd use it in this way. Probably have lots of company now.

Like my fellow broker, Tom. He or she is pregnant now. He swapped with his wife, but got pregnant after the shift! I'd become a nun if that had happened to me. Anyway, Tom will take care of my accounts until I get back to the office.

Elaine left me a phone list for my clients. I may try calling some of them in the next few days. My own personal belief is to avoid panicking. I think a big plunge is in store for Monday, but if people panic they'll make it worse. My own plan is to sit tight. I think everything will bounce back, it may just take a few years.

I have an appointment next Monday evening with David Marshall, Esquire. He will represent me in the matter of Lilah's lawsuit. A lawyer who makes hospital calls? I sure as heck can't go to him.

That's it. Ciao!

*****

Sunday, October 1st

Dear Diary,

Happy New Year! Rosh Hashanah began last night at sunset.

Can you believe today marks nine weeks for me since the shift? It sometimes feels like nine years. Particularly on weekends.

Adrian and Stephanie came by yesterday. As always they are an absolute riot. Especially when they gave me a preview of their new show. It was great to see them, and I plan on seeing them perform after I'm out of the hospital.

Oh, I finally got around to asking. Stephanie is not the triplet's father, aka sperm donor. Maybe I will ask Veronica more about this another day.

Veronica brought me practically every DVD from the house yesterday morning. I asked her to bring some, and she brought them all. I'm thankful, but have no intentions of watching Robin Williams in Nine Months!

Nothing else to report. Ciao!

*****

Tuesday, October 3rd

Dear Diary,

2831.32 and 941.09.

What is that, you ask? The amounts the Dow Jones and Nasdaq went down yesterday. More losses are expected today.

Black Monday doesn't do justice to what happened yesterday. But I think society is more resilient than the experts are predicting. It will come back.

My portfolio took a hit. But I'm more concerned about my clients. Many of them are suffering tremendously now. And as their broker I feel at least partly responsible.

I had a tough time sleeping last night because of all this. Well, part of why I couldn't sleep is due to me being so uncomfortable, too. Nothing new there.

If there was any humor to be found in yesterday, it had to be CNBC reporter Bob Pisani. The guy who reports from the floor of the stock exchange. Now he looks like a five-year-old girl. Anyway, Bob was all flustered by the end of the hectic day and seemed barely in control of herself. I almost expected any moment to hear her blurt out, "I want my Mommy!" No luck, Darn!

As to CNBC's babes, the results are mixed. Alina Cho is back and still Alina. Good for her. Unfortunately, Maria Baritromo didn't fare so well. She is now an overweight man in his sixties. What a shame.

No doubt about it, I'm a lesbian. No men are in my future, I still like a pretty face.

Mr. or should I say Ms. David Marshall came to my room last night. My attorney looks about seven years old now. Not withstanding, I have confidence in her. She appears confident in defeating Lilah and explained to me why.

That's it. Ciao!

*****

Wednesday, October 4th

Dear Diary,

The markets plunged 413 and 72 points respectively yesterday. Better than Monday, but still no bottom in sight.

I tried avoiding the news today as a result. Instead, I caught up on some of the DS9 episodes I taped lately. Watched The Assignment last night. Keiko O'Brien possessed by Bajoran evil spirits, but the chief saves the day and the O'Briens are a big happy family again.

Can you tell I am thoroughly bored at the moment? I am. 'Till next time, Ciao!

*****

Thursday, October 5th

Dear Diary,

The only thing to report for today is another visit from my friend, Jan. She stayed almost an hour chatting with me. She was very kind to pay me a visit.

That's all. Ciao!

*****

Friday, October 6th

Dear Diary,

Another week has come and passed. Thirty-two weeks pregnant. I begin to wonder if I'll ever give birth.

Just kidding, I know the end is not far away. It is just so boring being stuck in bed like this. Baths like the one I will have tomorrow are the highlights of the week. I get to be out of bed, if only for five or ten minutes.

There was some concern yesterday. My contractions at one point in the morning were separated by less than seven minutes. And they were sometimes intense, not the dull aches to which I am more accustomed. I used the breathing exercises to deal with the pain during these episodes.

In the end, yesterday was a false alarm. My terbutaline was increased, which made me shake until I got used to the dosage. Plus, I was visited twice by Dr. Crowe and once by Dr. Smithson. They still think I can hold out a while longer.

Oh, I finally decided on a nickname for Dr. Smithson, I call him Pet Rock now. Why? Because he has the personality of one!

Mentally, I am exhausted from this ordeal. Besides, I think my body is exhausted also. I think these contractions are a sign of it. Carrying three babies for seven months has worn it out. It has done its job but can't do it anymore. I think this is the end phase now. It's a matter of days or even hours until I give birth. We made it to thirty-two weeks, which is good for triplets. Let the NICU do the rest.

Am I being selfish? I don't think so. You've heard me say it many times, I've been an unwilling passenger in this voyage to giving birth. But I decided long ago I'd do my best, so these babies had a proper chance. Thirty-two weeks is considered good for triplets, and in my heart I feel I've done all I can for them.

Dr. Crowe isn't making any predictions as to my delivery date, but said it will be soon. She ordered steroid shots to be given to me. This is to help mature the babies' lungs. Last night I received the first round and got these terrible hot flashes as a result. Jolly Sue told me it was a common side effect of getting the shots.

Talking about Jolly Sue, she had another one of her laughing episodes at 2 a.m. I had to buzz the nurses' station to ask them to quiet down. They did. I like Jolly Sue, but her laughing can drive a person mad sometimes.

That's the report for today. Ciao!

*****

Saturday, October 7th

Dear Diary,

I'm still contracting, but they're more under control than yesterday. I'm still miserable and the steroid shots are torture. At least the end is almost in sight for me.

Other than that there is very little to report, except a conversation I had with Veronica last night. We were discussing the babies and what it will be like after they're born. Unless there are complications, they should go home with Veronica within a month. My mind is still made up. I'm going back to my own life. Veronica understands, or at least that is what she is saying. Who really knows?

The really interesting part of the conversation was our discussion about circumcision. Yes, Veronica plans to have him circumcised. I admitted to her that I wasn't circumcised when I was still Matt, and just didn't understand why the procedure was necessary. We batted this around for a good half hour, but Veronica's mind was made up. It was Jewish tradition and that is what matters to my friend. It's her decision, I just don't understand it. I keep on picturing Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof. "I have one word for you, Tradition!" Better that than, "If I were a rich man." Something I won't be ever again.

All joking aside, it is Veronica's decision. She says I am invited to the bris. I'll probably come to the ceremony out of respect for my friend. Nothing else to report. Ciao!

*****

I had just signed offline and was about to try taking a nap, when two visitors walked into my room.

"Matt, I hope I'm not disturbing you," spoke Jack Smith. A man was behind him, and I had to guess it was her wife, Nancy.

I waved to my friend. "No, not at all. Come on in. How are you doing, Jack? I guess he's Nancy."

"No, I'm Nancy now," Nancy said. "Might as well take an appropriate name. Matt-"

I cut her off. "I'm Rachel now myself. So we're even." I understood the reasoning behind my friend's name change because I had decided to do the same also.

"This is my husband, Jack," Nancy finished saying.

Jack and I shook hands. "Nice to meet you, Jack."

"Nice to meet you too, Rachel. I've heard so much about you."

"I'm sure you have," I said, watching my two friends take seats in the room. It was so good to have company. "Thank you for coming by to say hello. I hope you didn't go out of your way."

"You're welcome, and no it wasn't out of the way for us," Jack replied.

"Not at all, Rachel. So how are you feeling?" Nancy asked.

"Okay, I guess. Yesterday wasn't so good. I was contracting quite a bit."

Both my friends looked concerned. But Nancy spoke first. "How often, or how many?"

"I think the worst was eleven in one hour."

"That is a lot," Nancy replied.

"How many weeks are you?" Jack asked. "What did the doctor say or do?"

"Thirty-two weeks yesterday," I explained. "My doctor, Dr. Crowe, she increased my terbutaline to try slowing the contractions."

"Did it work?" Nancy asked.

"A little, but I'm still having them at least every ten minutes."

Nancy's facial expression underwent a subtle change on hearing that. I think my friend was also anxious about childbirth.

"Dr. Crowe also prescribed steroid shots. They're for...."

Nancy interrupted then. "I've got to use the bathroom. Is it all right if I use yours?"

"Sure, go ahead," I replied. Not until Nancy was in the bathroom did I speak up again. "Is Nancy getting nervous about being a Mom?"

"He, or I mean she has her moments. I think reality is sinking in."

"You have three children already?" I asked. Jack nodded. "How was it? Did you have them vaginally or by C-section?"

Jack started giving me all the gruesome details. First about Jack Jr., who when born weighed seven plus pounds. He had the boy after fourteen hours labor. Then Candace, who also weighed almost the same weight and was born after sixteen hours labor.

By then Nancy was back out of the bathroom. She took a seat at the table directly across from me as Jack continued to fill me in.

Jack was just beginning to tell me about Dorothy, when another visitor arrived. It was Veronica, who came to check on me. "Hello, I didn't know you had visitors."

Veronica came right over and gave me a kiss. "Yes, Jack and Nancy. They just arrived about fifteen minutes ago. You know Nancy as Jack from before."

Veronica went to the table and shook Nancy's hand. She missed my clue as to the name change. "Yes, I do. Nice to meet you again, Jack."

"I'm Nancy now," my friend replied.

"Nancy?" Veronica asked looking confused.

"Jack is Nancy now. Nancy is Jack now," I tried explaining. "I mean, they're taking each other's names now."

"I get it," Veronica smiled, and then shook hands with Jack. "Nice to meet you, Jack."

"Now that that is all over with, where's the women and the booze?" I said, waving my arms trying to be theatrical.

Veronica and Nancy got my humor, they had both grown accustomed to it by now. It took a minute for it to sink in for Jack. "Is she always like this?"

"She does have her moments."

"Of all the things I lost, I miss my mind the most," I said, continuing my act. The last ten weeks had really been a test of my sanity.

"It comes and goes," Veronica said. "What were you guys discussing?"

"Jack was telling me about the three children she had."

"Yes, before the Shift," Jack mentioned.

"So, you had three?" Veronica asked. "Or is Nancy having the third right now?"

"No, this is the fourth for us," Nancy said, speaking up.

"Yes, they're only twenty-five, or is twenty-six?" I said. Jack said they were twenty-five and twenty-four. He was the oldest. "See, they're young and Nancy likes it so much she wants them to have a dozen kids."

Nancy's eyes almost popped out of her head at my leg pulling. Veronica spoke up then. "Oh, really?"

"Yepper. See, Jack has twelve brothers. She was the only girl in the family. Jack, isn't that so?"

"Yes, it is." Jack was enjoying our little game of teasing Nancy.

"I've got to get going back to work," Veronica said, speaking up. "Rachel, I can bring you dinner tonight. What would you like?"

Nancy interrupted then. Probably glad our teasing of her was over. "We brought spaghetti with meatballs for you. I hope you like it."

"Meatballs?" I said, almost licking my lips in excitement as Nancy extracted the tray of food from the bag they brought.

"Yes, meatballs," Jack replied with a smile. "Nancy told me how much you liked the last food she brought."

"I loved it," I replied in excitement. "The last time Nancy brought food I loved it so much I was willing to marry Jack." Everyone laughed at my remark.

"It looks delicious," Veronica said, speaking up. "Well, I've got to get going. Nice to meet you again, Nancy. Nice meeting you, Jack. Thank you for bringing the food."

After Veronica left the room I had a question to ask. "You don't mind if I share the food with Veronica?"

"No, not at all," Jack replied.

"The nurses can heat it up for me if Veronica isn't around," I explained.

My friends Jack and Nancy spent another half hour chatting with me before leaving. After they left I tried to take a nap, wondering if I would dream of spaghetti and meatballs.

*****

Monday, October 9th

Dear Diary,

Today is the first day of the Jewish Holiday Yom Kippur. It began yesterday at sunset, and I know Veronica left work early from the hospital in preparation for it. I guess I won't see her today then. That's fine with me, Veronica needs this day for herself.

Jack and Nancy came by to visit. They brought gifts for the babies and stayed for about a half hour. It was very nice of them to come visit.

Nothing else to report. Ciao!

*****

Tuesday, October 10th

Dear Diary,

Major Kira finally had the O'Briens' baby on DS9. Hooray for her, but when will my sentence be over?

Just venting after a miserable night's sleep last night. Ciao.

*****

Wednesday, October 11th

Dear Diary,

A mediocre or boring day, except for a visit from Adrian and Stephanie. They gave me a full accounting of how they prepared the baby room at Veronica's townhouse. The theme chosen was Winnie the Pooh, and my friends had their opinions on this. It was good for some laughs.

Other than that I spent the day watching television and reading. I just began reading Tom Clancy's latest techno thriller, The Bear and the Dragon.

The stock market continues to tank. Down over forty percent since it re-opened last week. When will it hit bottom? I'm all right, but a lot of my clients aren't. I really feel sorry for them, but there's nothing I can do.

Veronica had to work all day, so I was alone except for that visit by my friends. Back again tomorrow. Ciao!

*****

Thursday, October 12th

Dear Diary,

Yesterday was a day spent being totally uncomfortable but otherwise pleasant. The uncomfortable because of hip pain that left me spending most of the day trying to find a comfortable spot in bed.

The pleasantry came from having Veronica's company for most of the day. She got off at 7 a.m. and would be off 'til 7 a.m. tomorrow. Then she went home for a nap and promises to be back later.

Talk to you tomorrow. Ciao!

*****

"Anything else going to happen?" a dejected Peg Wilson asked the empty bathroom. She had just finished using the toilet.

Peg had been growing increasingly frustrated with her unwanted pregnancy the last ten or so days. If the woman wasn't uncomfortable, the inconveniences pregnancy caused were driving her to distraction.

First came the results of her testing for gestational diabetes. The initial test came back positive. So Peg had to return to Dr. Sanchez's office for the glucose tolerance test. Another long day spent in the doctor's office, and another session of tasting some horrible liquid. The only good news came two days later. Peg didn't actually have gestational diabetes.

The worst indignities were still yet to come. On the previous Sunday morning, Peg had a very painful bowel movement. When she wiped her buttocks, the mother to be was surprised to find blood in the toilet paper. There was also blood in her stool. Peg and John quickly concluded that it was a case of hemorrhoids.

Hemorrhoids aren't an uncommon condition for pregnant mothers, as is constipation. The latter is one of the reasons moms to be are told to drink large amounts of water.

Peg Wilson suffered from both conditions. The combination was literally one big pain in the butt for the former man turned mother.

Peg's recent visit to Dr. Sanchez provided little relief, either. The doctor advised the mother to use Preparation H for relief. Because of her large size, Peg had to entail the help of her husband in applying the ointment. John did this without any grumbling, but this didn't prevent Peg from voicing her feelings about being pregnant.

And to top it off now, Peg was incontinent also. She had wetted herself at least twice today already.

So Peg Wilson felt she had a good right to be feeling miserable as she got off the toilet. After wiping herself, the mother left the bathroom and headed toward the master bedroom. To do so Peg had to pass through the rest of their home's large master bathroom.

In doing so Peg had to pass her large walk-in closet. One that had sliding mirrored doors. Seeing her reflection, the mother felt like cursing. Instead she repeated the question that had plagued her ever since the shift. "Why me?"

You see, in the last two weeks Peg's stomach had grown by leaps and bounds. So much so that when the mother visited the doctor yesterday, another mom asked Peg how much longer until she gave birth. When Peg replied three months, the other mother said Peg looked ready now.

Peg didn't dwell on her reflection at all but proceeded into the bedroom. The mother was at a total quandary as to what to do. Sitting down was painful, lying down was uncomfortable and if she stood for too long, Peg's feet would begin to hurt. Plus her back was very painful now. The pain, mostly in her lower back, was coming in waves.

It was only 1:37 in the afternoon as Peg looked around her empty house. John was at work and wouldn't be home until after 4 p.m. What was she supposed to do until then?

"I'd go out if not for all the discomfort," Peg said, looking around the bedroom. She resented what this pregnancy was doing to her. She was almost like an invalid. Again she said, "Why me?"

Peg carefully walked back downstairs thinking about the future. Tomorrow she and John would attend the first of a series of childbirth classes. Only a few months earlier, the former man was looking forward to these steps on the way to parenthood. Now Peg was dreading or hating them, even the necessary ones.

Once downstairs, Peg went straight to the living room but not before picking up her favorite box of Swiss chocolates. Taking a seat in a living room recliner, the mother decided to look for something interesting to watch on television. While doing so, Peg dwelled more on her present situation.

She was tired of being a pregnant woman. Peg wished for her pregnancy to be over with so she could back to her life. The sooner the better.

*****

"Hi, Veronica," I said, seeing my friend enter the room at 7:30. She was carrying two plastic bags. "You brought dinner?"

"Uh huh. Fried Chicken from the grocery store. Do you like?" Veronica replied, setting up a place to eat.

"Definitely," I bubbled. Unfortunately, I had eaten at a little past 6 p.m. Because of the diet I was on I couldn't have anything to eat until my blood sugar was tested again. And then only a snack. "I ate already, but I could eat some tomorrow for lunch. Got enough?"

"Yes. You don't mind if I eat?"

"No, not at all."

Veronica and I talked as she ate dinner. Mostly about our respective days. I didn't mind her eating in front of me. Actually, I appreciated her company.

"Tomorrow is thirty-three weeks pregnant for you."

I laughed. "Don't remind me. I've been counting the days."

"Thirty-three is great for triplets," Veronica said.

"I know."

"This morning I spoke to Dr. Crowe. If you get to thirty-five weeks, they will perform an amniocentesis."

Two more weeks in jail was the last thing I wanted to do, but I knew it was out of my control. "They do that to check the babies' lung maturity?"

"Yes," Veronica explained. "You will be almost to term then. Dr. Crowe would probably schedule you for a C-section right after getting the results."

"It can't come too soon for me," I replied in total honesty.

Veronica didn't pout or frown at my reply. By now she had gotten used to my moods. "Matt, or I mean Rachel, I can't thank you enough. Thank you for Rachel, the babies, and me. You really are an incredible person."

"You're welcome. I will just be happy when it's over."

"I understand," Veronica said, finishing her fried chicken. She then got up from the table and disposed of the bones in a nearby trash can. Once she was done, Veronica pulled a chair close to my bed. After sitting down, my friend took hold of my left hand. "Thank you for doing this. I'll never forget it."

"You're welcome."

"Do you need anything for tomorrow?" Veronica asked. I knew she had to be tired and must want to go home and get some sleep.

"Nothing. You go home now," I replied.

"Night, Rachel." She then bent down to kiss me. Brief and right on the lips.

While Veronica left the room I was deep in thought. 'No, the kiss meant nothing to me. As soon as I am out of this hospital, I am back to MY life. No more being a mother. Never again.'

*****

Sandra had just gotten off the phone on a pretty quiet night at the LPCH when a couple in their twenties arrived at the antepartum unit.

"My name is John Wilson, and this is my wife Peg," the man said. The woman with him was obviously pregnant and in distress. "Dr. Maxwell told us to come here."

"You are expected," Sandra replied, as Melanie came out of the nurse's break room. "Melanie will show you to your room."

Once inside room 2016, Melanie gave the prospective mother a hospital gown to put on, instructed Mrs. Wilson to get in bed immediately afterwards, and then left the room. A few minutes later the nurse was back with a new chart.

"We were here for a tour a few weeks ago," Mr. Wilson said, sounding much less upset than his crying wife. "Do you have our registration forms?"

"Already got them," Melanie replied. As soon as Sandra had gotten off the phone with Dr. Maxwell, the nurse had begun printing the computer stored registration forms. "I need to ask you a few questions and take your wife's vitals."

"Oh God, please don't let me lose my baby," Mrs. Wilson moaned. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean what I said before."

Sandra began the examination by verifying the information on the patient. Margaret 'Peg' Wilson was twenty-three years old, twenty-eight weeks pregnant and married to John Wilson.

"Will the doctor be here soon?" John Wilson asked while Sandra began her exam.

"Dr. Maxwell is on duty and will be here shortly. He is covering for Dr. Sanchez until she can get here," Sandra replied. "Mrs. Wilson, are you suffering any cramps?"

"No, but why? Am I contracting?"

"Don't know yet," Sandra answered. She had already confirmed that the mother's water had indeed broken. Now the nurse was examining the woman's cervix to see if it was dilated. "How about any abdominal or back pain?"

"I have been having some back pain."

"Constant, or comes and goes?" Sandra's examination of Mrs. Wilson's cervix already showed the mother to be dilated to three centimeters. The mother to be was almost certainly having contractions.

"Comes and goes," Peg replied, trying to avoid panicking. She knew it was way too early for the baby boy to be born. "This morning and this afternoon I thought I wetting myself. I thought it was nothing. Then tonight..."

Peg broke down crying as Sandra hooked the mother up to the monitor. This took only a minute. Leaving the couple for a few minutes, the nurse went back out to the nurse's station to begin marking up the mother's chart and to put some information in the computer. At the same time Sandra kept a close eye on the contraction monitor for her new patient.

It didn't take long for Sandra to get the confirmation. Mrs. Wilson was contracting. She had two of them in under ten minutes. Then picking up the patient's chart again the nurse went back to room 2016.

Back in the room Sandra discovered Mrs. Wilson was still crying. The mother was upset over her water breaking and her not coming to the hospital earlier. Efforts by the husband to calm his wife were so far failing.

"Sandra, how far can a mother go after her water broke before having a baby?" This was the couple's first time as parents.

"Depends." It did, from mother to mother. Some mothers go immediately into labor. Some mothers hold out for days or weeks. Some even have the leaks seal and amniotic fluid replenish. "We can determine more after an ultrasound."

Within a few minutes Dr. Maxwell arrived. He then began to examine his patient.

*****

Friday, October 13th

Dear Diary,

I can't believe it, but today marks thirty-three weeks pregnant. If someone had said to me back last July that I would have willingly carried these babies almost eleven weeks, I would have said they were nuts.

The day started early. Since Veronica has to go back to work today, she got up early and got us both breakfast. We ate around 6:30 this morning with my meal consisting of French toast and bacon. I wish Veronica could bring me breakfast every morning.

Dr. Crowe came by this morning, and is still happy with my progress. My contractions are still two-three an hour, but come irregularly. The babies are slowing down a bit but the Doctor said that's to be expected. There is not much room left inside me for them. Dr. Crowe also mentioned the possibility of doing the C-section the week of October 22nd. It can't come too soon for me.

Looks like another day of watching television, chatting online with my friends and reading Tom Clancy's The Bear and The Dragon. Right now I'm about halfway through the book; it's okay, but Clancy has done better.

I may check back in later.

PS - Today is Friday the thirteenth. No, I am not superstitious.

*****

I was in the middle of watching Price is Right when it happened. One of the contestants was spinning the big wheel when I felt something odd between my thighs. It felt like water. My first thought was that I peed myself, but by my tenth week of being a woman I was sure I'd know if it was that. I pressed the button for my nurse.

Pat was on duty that day and was in the room about two minutes after I called for her. "What's up?"

"I'm feeling liquid between my legs," I said. The day I had been hoping for was perhaps finally upon me. But why was I feeling scared? "Did my water break?"

"Let me check," Pat said. I rolled onto my back while she went outside for a minute. She was right back and immediately began her examination. When she was done, Pat had a strip in her hand. She was closely examining it. This took about a minute. "I think you have."

"What's the next step?"

"I'll call the doctor who's on call today," Pat said, beginning to explain things. "It's Dr. Smithson, I think. He'll come and examine you."

'Oh, just my luck, I get Dr. Pet Rock today. I wish it was Dr. Crowe or Dr. Kalra today. Can't complain, I am getting my wish,' I thought.

Pat had one more question. "When did you have your snack?"

"Around 9 a.m.," I replied. Admittedly I was already feeling hungry again.

Pat then left the room but not before saying she would be back soon. Reaching for the phone, I dialed Veronica's beeper number. Ten minutes later the phone rang.

"Veronica, I've got some big news..."

*****

Veronica was downstairs about thirty minutes later. The first thing she did was give me a big hug and thank me profusely for making it this far. I told her I wouldn't have made it without her support.

While Veronica was in the room, an ultrasound technician and Pat showed up. The U/S exam showed the water on Baby B or Benjamin's sac was slightly depleted, down to 8.4 compared to her siblings who were both over 10. It was now certain that my water had broken. The ultrasound also estimated all three babies to be weighing in the vicinity of four pounds. That was a good weight for thirty-three weeks.

The ultrasound also showed that Baby A or Sarah's head was not in the down position. A vaginal delivery was almost certainly out now.

Pat had some news for me. First Dr. Smithson would be at the hospital shortly to examine me. In the meantime, I was not allowed to eat any more food until the doctor arrived.

Veronica couldn't stay long because she was busy. She told me to page her when Dr. Smithson arrived. Also, before leaving she reiterated her promise to get me steak and lobster after the babies were born. My reply? "I could eat a cow now."

Not too long afterwards I felt a sharp pain in my back. My contractions were starting to pick up in frequency. Thank God I didn't have long to go.

*****

After Veronica's departure, I went online very briefly. I sent an email to some of my friends, Leanne, Louise, Jan, Nancy, Amy and Sonia telling them the news. These friends had all agreed earlier to help out spreading the news to all my chat buddies or to post the news to triplet connection.

Dr. Smithson arrived at 12:30. He was still all business and still showed no signs of having a personality. His examination of me took less than ten minutes. One thing he mentioned was that he could see Sarah's head.

I got the expected good news from Dr. Smithson, but not without some bad news. Yes, today was going to be the day for the C-section. But the bad news was I wouldn't be having it till after 5 p.m. That was because they preferred to wait at least eight hours since I had last eaten. That meant I probably had another five hours to go. By now my contractions were speeding up and I was feeling them more often than not. I had seven in the last hour.

Veronica wasn't there for the doctor's examination. I paged her as she told me, but Dr. Smithson was in such a rush that Veronica didn't make it.

"Hi, how are you doing?" Veronica asked as she bent down and kissed me on the forehead.

"Okay, Dr. Pet Rock left already." I gave Veronica the update.

"Not too much longer."

"Yes, but I'm starved." I was about to say something more but the babies started kicking me almost like they knew Veronica was there. "Hey there, your mommy is here."

Veronica placed her hand on my stomach. "They're having a good time in there I think," Veronica said with a smile.

"Yes, they like to kick their Aunt especially when their Mommy is-" My sentence was cut off by a sharp pain from my lower back. I was having another contraction.

"You having another contraction?" Veronica asked and I nodded. "Breathe like I showed you." I followed Veronica's instructions and it did make the pain a little more bearable. "Good girl, you did great. Did it help any?"

"A little," I replied. Esmerelda then entered the room with my lunch tray. 'I wish I could eat it.'

"Where do you want me to place it?" The dietary assistant asked.

"Leave it on the counter," I replied. "I'm going to have my c-section today."

"Congratulations." Esmerelda put the tray down on the counter and then came over and gave me a hug. "You'll be fine."

"Thanks, Esmerelda." The dietary assistant then left the room.

I saw Veronica eyeing my lunch. "Do you mind if I eat it?" she asked. She always ate on the run.

"You're really going to torture me today. First my water breaking, then these contractions and later I'm having your babies for you. Now you want me to watch you eat when I can't and I'm hungry." Veronica gave a look that showed she wasn't sure if I was joking or not. "Go ahead, I was only joking."

Veronica was almost done with the sandwich when I announced I had to go potty. With my friend's help I made the short trip to the waiting commode while all along making jokes about this being my last time to ever do this.

While I was on the commode, Veronica spoke up. "You wouldn't mind posing for some pictures?"

"Like this?"

"No, silly, I mean standing up," Veronica clarified. "Today is the big day and it would give me a remembrance of it. Will you do it?"

"Sure. Can you help me get up?" Veronica gave me a hand and pulled me up. Having spent over ten weeks on bedrest, my body was having more and more difficulty walking or even just trying to stand up. To keep my balance I had one hand on the bedrail. "Just don't waste time. I'm very uncomfortable."

Veronica grabbed both the camcorder and digital camera from the drawer in which they had been stored. In quick succession, she snapped three photos of me. Front facing, and then two profile shots from both sides.

"You wouldn't mind posing with your gown up exposing your belly?" Veronica asked, sounding a bit embarrassed.

"Is it safe? Won't someone get these photos?" I was willing to help Veronica out, but I just feared these photos being spread all over the Internet.

"No, I know someone who is safe to bring the film to," Veronica said, trying to reassure me. "I just want two belly shots."

Believing Veronica, I did as she asked. I posed for another minute or so while she filmed me with the camcorder, too. I posed both fully dressed and then with my stomach exposed. A few times Veronica said how beautiful I looked. This was mind boggling to me, I felt like a big whale. Just before we were done I waved to the video camera and said hello to the still unborn children. I said I was their Aunt.

By now I was totally exhausted. "Veronica, I'm tired, can you help me back into bed?" Putting the camcorder down, my friend came over to help me.

I felt another contraction almost the moment I was back in bed. This coincided with Veronica's beeper going off, signaling she had to go back to work. Giving me a kiss and hug before leaving, my friend promised to be back later for the big moment.

Watching Veronica go, I felt more frightened and lonely than I had at any time since the Shift. The most recent contraction I had seemed to be more painful than any I had before. Now I was alone and the full magnitude of what was about to happen was only just sinking in.

"I miss you, Veronica," I said to the empty room as I began to weep. Right then I was feeling lonelier than any time since the Shift.

*****

Shortly afterwards, Pat returned to the room. First she told me my scheduled C-section time was 5:30 that afternoon. Then she began the preparations. My lower abdomen near my bikini line was shaved and after that was done, a catheter was inserted in me. Good-bye bedpan and good riddance. I was also put on another I.V. and a heart monitor.

I made a couple of phone calls to friends to give them news. Rabbi Horowitz and his wife, Stephanie and Adrian, and Nancy. Only Nancy was home at the time, we spoke for almost ten minutes before my contractions made me hang up. She wished me luck and promised to visit me at the hospital sometime over the weekend.

After hanging up on Nancy, I sunk back into bed. I knew my contractions were speeding up, coming every ten minutes or less now. There were only four hours left, so I decided to try watching some television.

I tried paying attention to the Law & Order episode, but it proved difficult. It didn't help it wasn't a Jill Hennessey episode. As soon as the show ended I turned off the TV. By my calculations now I was contracting every six or seven minutes. It was getting hard to concentrate on anything.

Trying to pass the time, I picked up the What to Expect when you are Expecting book. I wanted to read the chapter on C-sections again. I didn't get far when another contraction hit. A sharp sustained pain, I did the short breath exercise I had been taught. It helped, but the pain was still terrible. I was beginning to cry now.

'Why did this happen to me. Why didn't I end this pregnancy,' I asked myself. My resolve was getting weaker with every contraction. I could hardly wait for 5:30. "I wonder if I can get something for the pain."

After buzzing the nurse's station, Pat was in the room in less than two minutes. "How are you doing?"

"The contractions are coming about six minutes apart now," I explained. "Can I get anything for the pain?"

"Let me call the doctor. I'll be right back," she replied and then left the room. As soon as Pat left the room I began crying again. 'God help me through these next few hours.'

*****

Pat did come back, but the news wasn't good. No pain medication until I was taken to the operating room. I wanted to curse, but it wouldn't have changed matters. Besides, Pat was my favorite nurse other than Aida.

All I could do now was lay in bed and wait. The waves of pain from each contraction made me moan. By now I wanted to do nothing. I just wanted the end to come soon.

At 4:00 Veronica returned to the room. "Hi, how are you doing?" she asked as she kissed my forehead. But I didn't answer. Another contraction hit me. I did the breathing exercise as my friend held my hand.

"Not good." I wasn't timing the contractions anymore, but I knew they were coming much faster. "When will they take me to surgery?"

"About 4:30. Hang in there, it won't be too much longer," Veronica said, and then pulled a chair up to the bed. I wasn't much into conversation now. But she kept talking to me, telling me how brave I was. More like stupid was my personal opinion at this point.

*****

"One...Two...Three...Four...Five...Six...Seven...Eight...Nine...Push!" both John Wilson and Carol, a delivery nurse, said in tandem. As ordered, Mrs. Wilson pushed despite the incredible pain she was feeling.

Despite efforts to prevent it, Peg Wilson had gone into active labor early that afternoon. By 4:30 p.m. she was fully dilated and only a couple of pushes away from giving birth.

'Please don't let anything happen to my baby. Please. I was so stupid and foolish. Don't let anything happen to my son,' Peg thought through the pain. She was now regretting not having asked for the epidural but also knew it wouldn't be much longer.

"One more time may do it," Dr. Sanchez said after consulting the baby monitor. In addition to the parents, one nurse and Dr. Sanchez, there was a neonatologist, a respiratory therapist and an NICU nurse present. "Let's start again now...One...."

As Peggy Wilson prepared to push what she hoped was the last time all the events of the last ten weeks flooded back into her mind. Starting with the Shift when the newlywed couple were at San Francisco airport, but what the mother couldn't shake was all of what she called her stupid behavior. Namely, her incessant complaining about her pregnancy and new lot in life. To the point she had said on two occasions she wished the baby would miscarry. Including only the previous Monday when frustrated by her sleep being disrupted.

'God, I didn't mean it. Please let my baby be well,' Peg thought as she prepared to give one last push.

"Eight...Nine...Don't push any more, he's almost out," Dr. Sanchez said. After maybe twenty seconds she spoke again. "I've got him."

"Why isn't he crying?" Peg Wilson asked. The doctor seemed to be in a hurry. She hadn't even asked the father to cut the umbilical cord. Instead, the doctor had done it herself.

"He'll be fine," John Wilson said, holding Peg's hand. Actually he was frightened. As soon as the doctor had cut the cord, she had hurriedly handed the baby off to the neonatal team.

There was still the afterbirth to be taken care of. While the neonatal team was tending to the baby boy, the delivery team got ready to receive the afterbirth.

"Okay, Mrs. Wilson, we need for you to push again. So let's start. "One...two...three..."

The neonatologists led by Dr. Quinones were examining the Wilson boy. The baby wasn't breathing at birth, but after suctioning the baby's mouth, the sound of a newborn crying filled the room.

"Wah...Wah...Wah..."

"You hear that, that's our son!" John Wilson said to his wife. "Eight...Nine...Push!"

The placenta or afterbirth still wasn't out. But the doctor stopped for a moment. It was time for the Wilsons to see their newborn baby boy.

"I love you, Chandler," Peg Wilson said through tears of joy. "Mommy and Daddy love you so much."

Both parents were allowed to touch the boy for a moment. Then Dr. Quinones said, "We need to get him to the NICU."

"Bye, Chandler. I love you," Peg and John Wilson said watching their tiny, premature son be taken from the room.

Dr. Sanchez gave her patient a few moments to settle herself before speaking. "Mrs. Wilson, we need to start again. One..."

*****

As we waited, Veronica talked to me while holding my hand and timing my contractions. She told me that she was off from work. Other residents were covering for her so she could be here for me now. I just kept quiet but I was so glad to have my friend there. My friend's moral support made my fears lessen.

4:30 came and passed. No sign of Pat. Veronica said my contractions were now four minutes apart. At 4:40 there was still no sign of my being taken to the operating room, so we buzzed for the nurse. Pat was in the room in two minutes.

"Sorry, I just called over to the Operating Room," Pat said as she came in the room. I already knew the news wasn't good. "You've been bumped back by an emergency C-section."

"Do you have any idea when her turn will be?" Veronica asked.

"No, sorry, I don't. It will be tonight," Pat said. "But I think you will like this news. Dr. Crowe will be coming to do the C-section herself."

Pat then left the room. "You hear that? Pet Rock won't be operating on you," Veronica said, trying to provide some levity.

"Good," I said, trying to sound brave. It did make me feel better that Dr. Crowe would be doing the C-section, but the pain I was suffering was unbearable. Cursing to myself, I swore I'd never go through this ever again. I'd remain single rather than ever endure another childbirth.

For another hour Veronica patiently sat there, sometimes talking to me while holding my hand. When she wasn't, my friend was saying prayers for both me and the babies. As to me, I continued to lay there and suffer. The contractions continued to get closer together while their intensity remained the same.

It was almost 6 p.m. when the sound of Veronica's beeper going off interrupted us. Picking up the room phone, Dr. Schwartz hit a four digit extension number.

"This is Dr. Schwartz," Veronica said into the phone, and then proceeded to listen for about a minute. "I'll be right down." She then hung up the phone.

"I've got to go," Veronica said, holding my hand very tight. I had only just gotten hit with another contraction. "I won't be long."

"Don't go," I said, just barely above a whisper. Tears were already forming in my eyes. "I need you."

"I won't be long, I promise." Veronica bent down and kissed me on the forehead. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Then I watched Veronica leave the room.

*****

Veronica went straight to the nurse's station. Pat was there.

"Pat, can you or whoever the night nurse is for Rachel page me when she is taken to the OR?"

"No problem," Pat replied. "I think she will heading down there around 7 p.m. One thing I need you to do is sign this consent."

Veronica read the form quickly. It was a consent to allow her in the operating room. Taking a pen, the doctor signed the form and handed it back to the nurse.

"Thanks, Pat." Veronica then left the Antepartum Unit.

*****

The hour that passed before they took me to the Operating Room felt like the longest hour in my life. Pat came into the room three times to check on me. During one of these visits I signed a consent form allowing Veronica in the operating room.

It was just a few minutes before seven when Pat and two nurses arrived with a hospital gurney. "It's time," my nurse said. With the assistance of the nurses, I transferred from my bed to the gurney. Then I was wheeled out of the room.

"You did it," said Brenda, the antepartum nursing supervisor, as she gave me a hug just outside my room. Jolly Sue came over to wish me luck, too.

"I know," I replied as I was pushed to the Operating Room. On the way there I heard a page for Dr. Veronica Schwartz.

I wasn't pushed straight into the Operating Room, but first to a spot in the corridor just outside it. A team of nurses or doctors were already preparing for the operation. I knew there would be quite a few people in the OR, but the only ones who really mattered to me were Dr. Crowe and Veronica.

A nurse asked me a few questions, then a few minutes later I was wheeled into the Operation Room. The first thing I noticed was how cold the room seemed.

I was then prepared for surgery. The Operating Room slowly started taking on more activity, and people were coming and going. Three units that looked like open cribs were soon wheeled into the room. There was still sign of my doctor or Veronica, but I did hear Veronica being paged a second time.

About the time I was to be given the spinal anesthetic, Dr. Crowe walked into the Operating Room. Holding a mask over her face she spoke to me. "Hello, Ms. Klein, ready for the big show?"

"Yes," I whispered. At the same time the anesthesiologist was sticking me for the spinal. I felt only a slight stinging. "I'm glad you're doing the operation."

"I know," Dr. Crowe said. I could tell she was smiling beneath the mask. I had always liked the doctor, she seemed to really care about her patients. "Dr. Smithson is also here, and he will assist me. We'll be starting in a few minutes."

As the doctor headed back to the operating door I began to feel funny. I realized it was the anesthetic taking affect.

"Has anyone paged Dr. Veronica Schwarz?" Dr. Crowe asked. One of the people in the room said my friend had already been paged. "Page her again, we will be starting in less than fifteen minutes."

As I began to lose feeling in the lower half of my body, my mind was beginning to fill with fear again. I had never been operated on in my life. 'Where's Veronica? I need her.'

Ten minutes later the operating room was full of people. By now I was spread eagled on the operating room table with a screen between me and the doctors. My arms extended outward, my right hand was taped to the table but my left hand was semi-free.

The two perinatologists entered the room. Coming over to me, Dr. Crowe spoke up. "We paged Dr. Schwartz three times, we may have to begin without her."

I was about ready to cry when someone else's voice spoke up. "Dr. Crowe, Dr. Schwartz just got up here. She's just starting to scrub up."

Soon Veronica was in the room. "Good of you to join us, Dr. Schwartz," said Dr. Crowe as Veronica came down to the end of the table. There was a stool waiting there for her.

"I think we should teach the residents to be more punctual," said Dr. Smithson. Since the Pet Rock had shown little sign of a sense of humor to me, I didn't know if he was being serious or not.

"I made it," Veronica said as she stroked my forehead.

"Thank you!" I smiled back at my friend. The operation was already underway, and I didn't feel a thing.

Not long after this, Dr. Crowe spoke up. "You may want to stand up." Veronica got up from her seat a moment later.

"Wah, Wah, Wah, Wah..." The sound of a baby crying filled my ears. Immediately I began to cry and I could tell Veronica was crying, too. If I was right, the baby crying had to be the little girl that would be named Sarah.

"One down," Dr. Crowe said, speaking up.

"I love you," Veronica said, still standing but squeezing my hand. She was also crying.

"Two down," Dr. Crowe said, again speaking up. 'Why didn't the baby cry? Is everything all right?' I was continuing to cry and now I was worrying a little. Another minute or so passed before I heard another crying baby.

"They're all out," Veronica said, watching the operation while at the same time trying to look down at me.

"Are they all right?" I asked.

"They looked perfect," Veronica said, smiling down at me. I could see tears in her eyes. Funny, I never really noticed how pretty her eyes were before then. "You did great."

It was hard to keep track of time, but maybe five or ten minutes later all three babies were carried close enough that I could see them.

"Oh God, they're beautiful," I said as I tried to touch them with my left hand. All three were apparently breathing on their own. After I finished touching the two girls and one boy they were taken away.

*****

The rest of the night was a blur to me. I would later be told that I gave birth at 7:52 p.m. Baby A, later to be named Sarah, weighed 4 lbs even, Baby B, the only boy and eventually to be named Benjamin, weighed 4 lbs 5 oz. Baby C, to be named Mariel, weighed 4 lbs 2 oz. All measured sixteen inches and after being placed in an isolette were taken straight from the Operating Room to the NICU.

After the operation was completed I was moved to recovery. Veronica was still with me. Almost immediately I began to feel tired and fell asleep. Truthfully, I was too sleepy to think much about my ordeal being over.

While I was sleeping, Veronica walked over to the NICU. The staff were still doing their preliminary workups on the children, but all three appeared to be healthy and were breathing without assistance.

About ninety minutes or so after being taken to recovery, I was fully able to move my legs. It was time for me to be brought back to my room. Veronica had come back to the recovery room after another brief NICU visit.

"Would you like to pass by the NICU and see them?" Veronica asked, and I nodded my head.

LPCH's NICU is directly between the Operating Room and the antepartum unit, and can be used as a stopover point. Instead of returning to my room via the main hall by turning right, the two nurses pushing my gurney went straight through a set of double doors.

Since I was still groggy from the anesthesia, my first visit to the NICU didn't make much of an impression on me. Lucile Packard's Neonatal Unit was split into three sections with a clerical or work area in the middle. The sections were divided into Levels two to four. Babies were placed in these units depending on the level of the care they needed. The higher the number, the more severe.

My nieces and nephew or Veronica's children were in the Level II section, we were almost clear through the NICU when we turned to the left. At the far wall, there was the isolette with all three babies in it. At the time there was a doctor and nurse examining the children.

"Hello, Ms. Klein, my name is Dr. Stiles, the neonatologist on duty today," the doctor said introducing himself. "Your children appear to be doing very well."

I didn't bother to correct the doctor about the babies not being my children. Instead, I was looking at the three babies in the isolette. They all appeared to be breathing so fast.

"Is it normal for them to be breathing that fast?" I asked, and almost immediately started to doze off.

"Yes, it is with newborns," Dr. Stiles explained. "All are breathing well and don't need assistance." The doctor then gave me the stats on the children's weights at birth.

"Would you like to touch them?" a nurse named Florida asked.

Veronica saw that I had fallen back asleep. "Maybe later."

A few minutes later I was back in my hospital room. With Veronica and the two nurse's assisting, I was moved back into my hospital bed. In spite of some attempts by Veronica to make chit chat, I soon fell asleep.

*****

John Wilson had been running on adrenaline ever since arriving at the hospital in the early hours of Friday morning. Despite having almost no sleep for thirty-six hours, the father had found it almost impossible to fall asleep.

The hours after his wife Peg had given birth had been filled with calls to friends and family sharing the unexpected news. John's parents had paid a visit to the hospital, having only arrived from Portland, Oregon that afternoon. The McKenzies, or Peg's parents, were still in Europe and weren't expected home until the 25th.

One call John Wilson made was to a family friend, Father Ron Schultz. The priest was happy for the new couple and promised to visit the next day and baptize the newborn infant.

Being worn out from giving birth, Peg had slept until almost 8 p.m. after giving birth. This allowed her husband to visit the NICU. Chandler Daniel Wilson, who was born weighing two pounds eight ounces and measuring thirteen and a half inches, was stable and still breathing without assistance. The boy looked to be doing fine.

At 8:30, Peggy insisted on seeing her son and John pushed his wife in a wheelchair to the NICU. There they watched their son who was in a closed isolette now. The child had since been intubated or had a tube put in his throat to help him breath. This was not unusual, rather it was almost always routine for babies born at twenty-eight weeks gestation. While the boy faced a long road ahead in the NICU, the doctors and nurses were not overly concerned with any issues Chandler had at the time.

After getting Peg back to the room and into bed, the new father tried to get some badly needed shut eye but found it next to impossible. So John went out to a nearby Burger King for some take out food, his first nourishment in over a day. Since he did not want to leave Peg alone for long, the food was taken back to the hospital.

Around midnight John Wilson finally fell asleep in room 2016's recliner.

John was fast asleep when a light being turned on woke him up. After being momentarily startled, the father realized someone had come into the room.

It was Dr. Kenneth Stiles, one of Lucile Packard Children' Hospital's staff neonatologists.

"Dr. Stiles, what brings you here?"

"I need to talk to you and your wife," the doctor said.

John got himself out of the chair. He preferred not to wake his wife if unnecessary. "Can we speak in the hallway?"

Once out in the hallway, Dr. Stiles got right to the point. "Mr. Wilson, your son has taken a turn for the worse."

John tried to remain calm, but the doctor's words were an absolute shock to his system. "What's wrong with Chandler?"

"Since midnight the boy has been running a temperature, he is on antibiotics and we increased the dosages, but his temperature continued to rise," Dr. Stiles explained to the father. "We ran some further blood tests, and discovered your son has a very serious infection."

As Margaret or Peg McKenzie, John Wilson had once had an interest in being a doctor. She had acquired quite a bit of medical knowledge before deciding the field wasn't right for her. So the father had an educated guess what may be wrong. "Sepsis?"

"Maybe, we aren't sure at this moment. We want to give your son a blood transfusion. I was coming to get your consent."

"Anything that needs to be done, do it, Doctor."

"I brought a form for you to sign." The doctor and father went over to the counter at the nurse's station. Without reading the form, John Wilson just signed it.

"Doctor, what is my son's prognosis?"

"We really can't tell yet," Dr. Stiles replied. Actually the boy's condition was grave. He was almost certain the boy had an infection of the blood and was going into septic shock. This would cause the child's body organs to start shutting down.

Septic shock usually struck the very old or the very young, like premature infants. Those too weak to fight a systemwide infection because of their incomplete or weakened immune systems. That is why the mortality rate for septic shock was over fifty percent.

"Doctor, should I wake my wife so we can both come over?"

"I would think that would be wise."

"Thanks, Doctor, we'll be right over," John said as he watched the doctor walk back to the NICU. He was still in shock from what he had learned. What was he to do now?

Thinking for a few moments, John thought of a phone call he should make before waking up Peg. So he asked the nearby nurse, "Sue can I use the phone?" The nurse said of course. Picking up the nearby phone, John dialed a number he knew from memory. "Hello...Hello, Father Ron, I know I'm calling at a bad time, but I have a request..."

*****

I didn't know what time it was, but I first began to wake up when Jolly Sue paid me a visit in my room. She was there to check my vitals.

This wasn't Jolly Sue's first visit, I vaguely remembered two others during the night. I was just too out still from the operation at the time.

"Hi," I said as I began to wake up. The room was still dark so I had a question to ask. "What time is it?"

"Fiveish," Jolly Sue said while she took my pulse. "How are you feeling?"

"Still a little sleepy," I replied. At the moment I was pain free and kind of surprised by that. I knew it wouldn't last. "I don't have any pain yet."

"That's normal for now. Any complaints?"

My stomach was beginning to growl at me. It was getting close to a day since I had eaten anything. "I'm hungry, when am I allowed to eat?"

"You can't have any solid food until you first pass gas," Jolly Sue explained. "Until then you can drink water and you are allowed clear soup."

"How long before I pass gas?" I asked. Now I can't pass gas when only a few days ago I was blowing industrial strength level gas all day.

"Most mothers do it about twenty-four hours after delivery. It can be a little shorter or a little longer."

'I might be able to get Veronica to keep that promise of a steak dinner tonight then,' I thought. That reminded me of something else. "Where is Dr. Schwartz?"

"She's working upstairs. Dr. Schwartz came by to check on you and called another time to see how you were."

"Could you beep her for me before you leave?"

"Sure," Jolly Sue replied.

"How are the babies doing?" I decided to ask. As sleepy as I was the night before, I could see the joy Veronica was feeling from the birth of her children. I was actually feeling a little pleased with myself having made it as far as I did. So I did my good deed, now I can get on with my life.

"Good, they had to put the boy on CPAP, but both girls are breathing on their own. You did great, by the way, thirty-three weeks is a long-time with triplets."

"Thank you," I replied. Jolly Sue, like all the nursing staff, was very nice even if her laughter could drive you insane at times. "What is CPAP?"

Sue explained that CPAP was a device that helped premature infants breathe. Not invasive like intubation was, it was commonly used for infants suffering from sleep apnea, a condition where a child will sometimes stop breathing when asleep. This was a common problem for premature infants, but not a serious one.

"I understand now. Thank you for explaining."

"You're welcome," Jolly Sue replied. "Would you like to pay a visit to the NICU now if you're feeling up to it?"

"Not now, I'm going to go later with Veronica," was my reply and it was a lie; I had long ago made up my mind I wanted as little contact with the babies as possible right after birth. The emotional tug they could create I just didn't want. My job was over, it was time to move on.

"I was asking because you have to go before 6:30," Sue explained. "No visitors are allowed between 6:30-9 a.m. There is a shift change and doctor's rounds. It's 5:10 now, and I thought I'd ask."

"No problem, I'll wait," I replied. It had only just dawned on me that the bed was no longer in the hamburger or whatever you called it position. "Can I change the bed now? I mean sit up."

"Sure can."

"Could you beep Dr. Schwartz for me now?" Jolly Sue did as I asked and then left the room.

Veronica called back about a minute later. "Hello, I'm not interrupting, am I?"

"No, it's kind of slow right now," Veronica replied. "How do you feel?"

"Okay, not bad. Mostly I feel very tired."

"I might be able to come up in a bit," Veronica said. She was on call overnight and wouldn't be off until 7 p.m. that evening. "Want to go over to the NICU and see how they're doing?"

"Could we go later? I'm still tired."

"No problem. I'm off tonight," Veronica said, and then we both heard her being paged on the intercom system. "I've got to go. I'll try to stop by around 7. Love you."

"Bye." I then hung up the phone.

'Those last words she said. Love you. What does she mean by that?' I thought, mulling the words Veronica had said. She had said, "I love you" on maybe a half dozen occasions the day before. Was this lesbian doctor getting any ideas? 'Yeah, I said the same yesterday but I was either in lala land from the anesthesia or the pain from the contractions I was suffering. I wasn't in my right mind. Yes, we are friends, she was a big help to me for the last almost eleven weeks. I wouldn't mind us remaining friends. But the last thing I want to do is get involved with a mother of three children. So if Veronica was getting any ideas, there was no uncertainty about my own feelings.

I am not interested.

*****

No, John, I want to stay," Peg Wilson said to her husband, John Wilson. The new mother was seated in a rocking chair next to her son Chandler's isolette. Her husband had drawn up a second chair and was seated next to her. "I don't want him to be alone."

"Just worried that you need to rest," John replied.

"No, not yet," Peg said, briefly smiling. "If I need to I will doze off here."

"Whatever you want is fine with me. Can I do anything for you now?"

"Could you get me something to drink?"

"Sure." John bent over and kissed his wife before walking over to the main desk for the NICU.

It was 7 a.m and the NICU was a beehive of activity. It was shift change time for the nurses and staff. This was the time when the NICU's personnel would update the incoming shift on the status of all patients.

Because this was a busy time, normally no visitors were allowed in the NICU. However, Dr. Stiles had personally said the Wilsons could stay.

John looked for a nurse he recognized. "Denise, could I get something to drink for my wife?"

Denise was busy writing some notes, but looked up from her chart. "Yes, you can." Denise got up out of her seat and pointed to the back of the NICU. "Go in that room. There are paper cups you can fill out of the faucet."

"Thanks, Denise." John went back to the room and filled a cup for both he and Peg. Actually the father was starved, but would wait on eating for now.

On the way back to Peg, Dr. Stiles intercepted John Wilson. "Mr. Wilson, I need to talk to you and your wife."

"Sure, doctor, she's still here."

It wasn't until both Wilsons were seated that Dr. Stiles began to talk. "Your son, I'm afraid, has a very serious infection."

"What type of infection?" Peg Wilson asked. The boy was breathing with assistance, and many tests had been done during the night. The boy looked ill but not serious to the mother.

"We believe your son has septicemia. That is, an infection of the blood in Chandler."

Peg reached over and held John's hand. "That is serious, am I correct, Doctor?"

"Yes, Mrs. Wilson, it is. An infection can spread throughout your son's body. It would then cause his vital organs to shut down."

"Aren't you treating Chandler with antibiotics?" Peg asked, still apparently staying strong.

"Yes, we are, but they may not be working," Dr. Stiles explained. "Your son's condition is considered grave at this moment."

"But he can recover? There is hope?" Peg asked.

"Yes, there is always hope."

John Wilson was reading Dr. Stiles' face carefully. What he saw and felt almost wanted to make him shake violently. His son Chandler was probably going to die. Why was this happening?

'I can't believe you're so calm. Or are you?' John thought. Peg had shown little reaction to the news from Dr. Stiles. Was she keeping her fears and emotions in check?

"Doctor, can my wife and I stay here with Chandler?"

"Yes, of course."

"Thank you, Doctor, for letting us know," Peg said. Dr. Stiles then excused himself.

"Peg, how are you doing?" John asked, holding his wife's left hand very tightly.

"Okay, can you do me a favor?"

"Anything," John said, still surprised by Peg's calmness.

"You know where the rosary is in our car?" Peg asked. John of course knew. It was hung from the car's rearview mirror. "Do you mind getting it?"

"Not at all." John Wilson kissed his wife and was about to leave when Peg spoke up again.

"Call Fr. Schultz again, please," Peg asked. Fr. Schultz had come to the hospital at the Wilson's request shortly after 3 a.m. and had baptized Chandler. "Maybe he can anoint him now."

"I'll call him," John Wilson said, still struggling to keep his composure.

"John, Chandler will make it. I know it. We'll pray for him, God will take care of our son. Just don't cry. Chandler won't want to see us cry."

"Okay, sweetheart." John grasped Peg's hand one last time and then left the NICU.

After John left, Peg thought of something she noticed earlier. "Nurse, can I ask you something?"

"Yes, of course," said Florida.

Peg Wilson got out of her chair. She was still a little wobbly. On the isolette there was a small sign saying 'It's a boy'. But no name was written. "My son's name is Chandler Daniel. Maybe you want to write that down."

"Of course." The nurse took a marker pen out of her pocket and clearly wrote the boy's name on the card. Pleased with this and still tired, Peg went back to her rocking chair.

*****

Veronica Schwartz came up to the Antepartum Unit around ten after eight that morning. It had been a night of frenzied activity for the medical resident, and not just because of Rachel.

The nurses were all busy, so Veronica went right to Rachel's room. Quietly letting herself in, she went to check on her friend. Rachel was fast asleep, so Veronica didn't disturb her and quietly left the room.

"Hello, Dr. Schwartz," said Pat. "Come up here to check on Rachel and the children?"

"Yes, I did. How is Rachel?"

"She's doing well. No complaints."

"Thanks, Pat, for yesterday. I'm going to check the children now." Veronica then made the short journey to the NICU.

After washing her hands on entering, Veronica went to the distant corner of the NICU, or the Level II section. She couldn't help but notice a young and distraught couple in one part of the room, but kept going toward her children. A nurse was standing nearby the isolette when Veronica arrived.

"Hello, Rose, how are they?"

"Doing well, Dr. Schwartz. Your son is on CPAP but both daughters are breathing well on their own."

Veronica looked down into the isolette. All three babies were asleep, so the resident decided not to disturb them.

"Anything I should know about?"

"Everything so far is routine."

'Thank God for that,' Veronica thought. "You have my beeper number if you need to get a hold of me?"

Rose checked a nearby chart. "Yes, we do."

"See you later then. Bye, Rose."

*****

Saturday, October 14th

Dear Diary,

I'm free!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It finally happened last night. At 7:55 or so p.m. I gave birth to two girls and a boy. All are supposedly doing well in the NICU.

It's past 11 a.m. this morning. I woke up around 5 a.m. but went back to sleep until Doctor Crowe came on her rounds.

Right now I don't feel much like recalling the events of last night but I will do it at another time. I'm just grateful my ordeal has finally ended.

I'm recovering all right. Right now I'm beginning to have a little pain, but the nurse is going to bring me some pain medications soon.

On the other hand, I AM STARVING right now. All I've been allowed is some clear soup and water to drink. This won't change until I pass gas. I never thought I'd be looking forward to blowing gas in my life.

I've been sitting up in bed for the first time since the Shift. Just before 9 a.m. I got out of my bed to make a visit to the bathroom and Tammy assisted me. It was an exhausting walk, even if it was short. All my muscles ached as a result of being on bedrest for so long. But I did make the trip and did better on the way back. Maybe I won't need a walker or assistance with walking when I get out of here.

Talking about nurses, I have one I never had before. Her name is Tammy and she is okay. The other nurses on duty today, Pat, Rhoda, Sue and Brenda all stopped by to congratulate me and give me a hug. I've got to say one thing, Pat was a godsend all of yesterday. She made an immensely painful day somewhat bearable, and I told her that and thanked her.

Haven't seen Veronica yet this morning. I guess she is busy right now. Veronica was a big help, though she almost scared the shit out of me by not getting to the operating room until the last minute. More on her later.

Dr. Crowe saw me this morning. She said the surgical site looked good and was optimistic about my being discharged on Tuesday. Tuesday can't come soon enough for me.

I called a few friends, Jack and Nancy, Adrian and Stephanie, and Jan. All were home and they congratulated me. Some may come and visit before I get discharged.

Louise said she would inform my online friends for me. I don't feel much like going online at the moment.

Right now it's hard to put into words how I feel. I've been dwelling over this diary entry most of the morning. What I do feel for sure is freedom. I have control of my life now, and no one else could tell me what I have to do or make me feel guilty over any choices I made. It's like yesterday liberated me from this jail that I've been sentenced to. Maybe it will be the same for the children I gave birth to. After all, I am neither really a woman nor their mother. I was just a reluctant baby incubator for ten weeks and five days. They, I mean Veronica's children, deserve someone who can be the mother they need.

Truthfully, I have no idea how Veronica is going to manage three little ones. But it's her problem, not mine. I plan on having as little interaction with the children as possible between now and my discharge from the hospital. The nurses keep asking me when I want to go visit. To be honest, if I had my way I wouldn't go at all. My guess I will have to pay a couple of 'courtesy' visits with Veronica. When I am done here in the hospital and discharged, I will have very little to do with the children. How Veronica is going to cope is her business, not mine. With her job and career I don't know how she will do it. I don't mind being an aunt, but that's it.

Aunt? I can barely avoid wincing when I think of myself as such. Well, it's a certainty, I am doomed to spend the rest of my life in this born female body. Now, what do I do with it?

Today on my bathroom trip I looked at myself in the mirror for a moment. I'm your average woman, average weight, height, looks. At least with clothes on, that is. You should see my stomach now, it's still big but slightly deflated. Like a balloon with the air let out, it's going to just look lovely when it gets to its normal size.

So back to the mirror. Am I going to try hiding myself? I think it can be done. A short male hair cut. Or will I look effeminate? Will it really fool anyone?

Or could I go and have Female to Male surgery? I've got to guess a lot of guys are going that route. But is it really successful? I know I will lose my breasts... Ugh, I hate thinking of them as my breasts. A man with breasts? The surgery would also get rid of my female plumbing, or ovaries and such. Periods for another ten years or more and menopause could then be avoided.

On the other hand, surgery couldn't replace my departed penis. I had looked at a website on F2M, it really didn't encourage me. I'd neither have the function or appearance down there.

So live life as a female? I don't know what to do yet. But I have time to decide. At least a couple of months before I go back to Smith Barney.

I'm starved right now, but I can't eat yet. It's almost 11:30 and I haven't had anything in a little over a day. I need to pass gas first before I can eat anything.

Tammy is back. I've got to go.

*****

"Hi, how are you feeling?" Tammy asked.

"Okay, still a little tired." I was sitting up in bed. It still felt so odd after the previous ten weeks.

"Not too tired for the computer?"

"It's a diary I've been keeping for a few months." I closed up the computer but not before saving the file and turning it off.

"Pain?"

"Not too bad, the pills you gave me helped."

"That's good," Tammy replied. "So, are you ready to visit the NICU?"

I felt like saying why they kept asking, but maybe it was time to be honest. "I don't want to go."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not their mother."

"Why do you say that?"

"Do you know I used to be a man?"

"Yes." Tammy had read it on my chart, besides having heard it from several of the nurses. Tammy was a postpartum nurse. Currently there were four postpartum mothers in the antepartum unit. In each case the mother had delivered prematurely and their child or children were in the NICU.

"I was shifted into this body." I began giving Tammy my whole history from the time I shifted into this life. "It's not my life, these aren't my children. It wasn't I who conceived them or decided to. I didn't want this at all, and only reluctantly...very reluctantly took on the job of carrying them to birth. Can you understand that?"

Tammy's face told me that she disagreed, but she danced around my question. "But you gave birth to the children. You gestated them for, what, ten weeks?"

"Yes, ten weeks and five days," I replied, recalling my "imprisonment". "They were the longest days in my life. How would you feel if you had to be on bedrest for two months?"

"I'd feel it would be worth the sacrifice to have a healthy child. I'm a mother of two, but was never on bedrest," Tammy confided.

"I said, I'm not a mother, I was just an incubator. Can we please talk about something else?"

As it was, Tammy had nothing else to talk about. She checked and then changed my I.V. before departing the room. As soon as she was gone I turned the laptop back on.

*****

John Wilson stood there in numb shock as he watched the numbers continue to fade on the monitor next to Chandler's unit. Next to him was Father Schultz. The priest had just anointed the prematurely born boy.

The numbers continued to fall. Sepsis had spread throughout Chandler's little body. By now about the only organ in the boy's body that was still working was his heart. This wouldn't last for much longer.

Chandler's ordeal had proved to be too much for Peg. She asked John to take her back to room 2016. After doing so and at the request of his wife, John went back to the NICU to await the inevitable.

It didn't take very long for the inevitable to arrive. Fr. Schultz and John talked in whispers as they watched the dying boy, his vital numbers now dropping off precipitously.

Then the time came. Dr. Quinones came over to the isolette. After placing his stethoscope on Chandler's chest and listening for a few moments, the neonatologist spoke. "Your son's heart just stopped."

John Wilson immediately began to tremble.

*****

After leaving room 2014, Tammy Parsons went right to the nursing station and took a seat at a table. Fellow nurses Pat, Brenda and Robyn were there.

"I can't believe her, I mean her attitude is hard, it's just incredible."

"She has been like that since the Shift," Brenda commented. "I think she was very self-centered before that. Still is, in my opinion."

"Having your sex changed can't be easy. She does have some justification for how she feels," Robyn said.

"But not being interested in her children?" Pat said, and then turned to Tammy. "How many former men have you had to deal with over in the North Wing?"

"I stopped counting, fifty or more at least," Tammy replied. "But none of them were like this. I mean, almost all of the former men hated being pregnant and were scared about giving birth. That had to be expected. But I never met a patient like her."

"What about the others?" Robyn asked.

"The moment you put their newborn in their arms almost always changed them. They fall in love with their child," Tammy said, still in disbelief over her patient's attitude. "A couple, maybe two or three wanted little or nothing to do postpartum with their baby. Those were usually unmarried men who had no relation to the mother they became. But deny even being a mother? I had never heard that even once."

"I feel sorry for Dr. Schwartz," Robyn said. "She has had to put up with this for ten weeks."

"Where is Dr. Schwartz?" Pat asked. "I haven't seen her."

"She was up here one time around eight and then around eleven," Brenda said. "Probably too busy."

All four nurses had charts to work on. After a few minutes, Pat spoke up. "I might go over there and have a word with Rachel."

"Think it will do any good?" Brenda asked.

"I don't know," Pat said, thinking about how she would convince the reluctant mother. "But I'm going to try a different approach."

"Good luck. I don't know-" Tammy began to say when the nursing station phone began to ring. Being closest to the phone, the nurse picked it up. "Antepartum unit...okay...okay...thank you for letting us know."

Tammy hung up the phone before speaking again. "It was the NICU. The Wilson boy, he just died." A minute later John Wilson walked into the antepartum unit with his head down and went straight to his wife's room. Fr. Schultz was still in there with Peg. None of the nurses said anything, but would each visit the father and his wife in private.

A few minutes later an image of a baby angel was placed on the door of room 2016. From the hallway the sound of two grief stricken parents could be heard from inside the room.

*****

I'm back. Where was I?

Tammy was in here asking why I hadn't been to the NICU. She thinks I should go and visit and I told her why I felt I shouldn't. It's my life now and I can do what I wish.

What it comes down to is I'm afraid. I don't want to bond with these children, nor do I want them to bond with me. It's better if they get used to the fact, I don't want to be their mother.

Back to what I'm going to do. I guess I'll probably make do and live the rest of my life as a woman. The other alternatives are just not satisfactory.

I've got a lot to do to rebuild my life. Lilah is gone, and good riddance, too. I've got to get my Mountain View home squared away. From Veronica's descriptions, it's a mess.

Buying a new car is also on the agenda. I think I can't drive until like a week or ten days after giving birth. I'll ask Dr. Crowe before I'm discharged.

I have to see my attorney, too. I'm of two minds over Lilah's palimony claim. I don't want the lawyers getting my money, I know they love to argue, but Lilah shouldn't be getting it, either.

As to getting involved with anyone. Veronica is nice, but she has kids now. I don't see women who have kids, nor do I want any. As to my sexuality, I'm a lesbian. Is Jill Hennessy available? Ha Ha! You've heard that one before. How about Terry Farrel?

So my future looks set. Working for Smith Barney, life as a woman and a lesbian. What do you think? Oh, you're just a microchip again.

Sorry for the ramble. They say pregnancy makes you forgetful or even lose brain cells. I wonder if it's true? Be back tomorrow.

*****

I was reading my book in bed when I was surprised to see Pat enter the room. "Hi, how are you doing?"

"All right, I think." I had a feeling why she was here. "You're here to ask why I haven't gone to the NICU."

"No, not at all, it's your life," Pat said. "You can do with it what you please."

"Yes, it's my life." Why is Pat here then?

"Good, what are you planning to do after you get out of the hospital?" I gave Pat a rundown of my plans. "So I guess motherhood isn't in there somewhere?"

"No, it isn't, I don't want to be a mother."

"I thought you used to say, you aren't a mother," Pat said, taking advantage of my poor use of words. "Tell me if I'm wrong, but didn't you just say you don't want to be one?"

"I'm not a mother."

"Did I ever tell you I have three children?" Pat asked. "Two boys and a girl, oldest is thirteen, the youngest is three."

'Why is she telling me this?' I asked myself. "No, you haven't."

"I remember everything about my pregnancies," Pat told me. "From the moment I found out I was pregnant to the day I gave birth. With all three of my children."

Again I asked myself, 'Why is she telling me all of this? If Pat is trying to make me feel guilty, it's not working.'

"I never wrote things down or kept a diary," Pat went on. "Sometimes I wish I did. But I remember almost everything. The joys, the aggravations, everything."

"My diary was just something for me to do."

"That's good. You must write about a lot of things in there."

"Yes, I do."

"Like how you're feeling?" Pat asked, and I replied yes. "What you did that day or what happened to you?"

"Yes, sometimes I wrote about the television shows I watched."

"You must have whole chapters on Price is Right, Law & Order, and Deep Space Nine then?"

"Maybe. I wrote about using the bedpan sometimes."

Pat laughed. "You won't be missing that, will you?"

"Not at all. Or the commode, either."

"It's good to be free then?" Pat asked.

"Yes. I did the best I could carrying Veronica's children."

"You did. Thirty-three weeks is very good for triplets," Pat smiled. "Did you talk much about them in your diary?"

"A little," I said. "Mostly about their daily kick boxing classes, hoops practice and their rockette routine."

"Yes," Pat laughed. "One...two...three...kick, as you used to say."

"They were so active sometimes."

"Didn't they sometimes listen to you?" Pat said, finally getting to her pitch. "I seem to recall you telling them to kick, particularly when Dr. Schwartz was around."

"Yes, they did. Sometimes they listened, or most of the time they did," I replied. 'Where is Pat going with this conversation?'

"You cared enough for Dr. Schwartz to carry her children."

"I had little choice."

"You did have some, you could have ended the pregnancy," Pat replied and I just stared back at her. "But you didn't. Because you cared enough about Dr. Schwartz. You cared enough about those three precious babies not to harm them."

"The babies kicked, because they knew the sound of their mother's voice," Pat said. "Children can hear in the womb. But you should have read that in those books."

"I'm not their mother," I said.

"If you don't mind my saying it, I disagree," Pat said frankly. "You carried those babies inside you for over ten weeks. You gave them life, a chance at life and a darn good one. In my book that makes you a mother."

'Another lecture. I will be doubly happy to be out of here in three days.'

"I had three children, as many children as you had. But mine were single pregnancies. We share that in common. The long ordeal of pregnancy, heck, count yourself lucky you only did it for ten weeks or so. My first was eight days late, or forty-one weeks."

"So?"

"The job of being a mother doesn't end at childbirth. It's only a beginning," Pat said.

"I'm not raising them. It will be done by Veronica."

"Them?" Pat said, sounding angry. "Do you know how you sound? You're acting like they're pet cats or dogs."

"Okay. I am not raising my children. I'm giving them up, like if some mother was to give her baby up for adoption."

"That's fine, but your babies need you now. You know being in the NICU isn't easy, there can still be complications."

"Yes, I understand that."

"You know I had a miscarriage at eleven weeks," Pat told me. "He or she would have been five now."

"I am so sorry."

"Thank you," Pat said. "I always wonder how they would be now. Sometimes I blame myself for what happened."

"It wasn't your fault, Pat," I said, feeling sorry for the nurse. "It can't be explained sometimes."

"Would you feel guilty if anything happened to your babies?"

"Pat, stop trying to make me feel guilty. It won't work."

"Okay, okay. But don't you want to give them a good start in life?" Pat asked, and I said I did. "You did by getting to thirty-three weeks, but your babies still need you now. At least to hear your voice, feel your touch and know you care."

Again I just stared at Pat. I didn't want the babies to get close to me. But I did care for them. Was my going over and spending time with them too much to ask?

"Well, I made my pitch, it's your decision," Pat said, heading toward the door. "I'd think you would just like to get out of this hospital room, after all. I've got to go."

I watched Pat leave the room. Sitting up in bed, I thought for a couple of minutes over what I should do next. Then I picked up the buzzer.

"Yes?" It was Pat's voice.

"Pat, I'd like to go over to the NICU."

"I'll tell Tammy," Pat replied. "She's with another patient, so it will be just a few minutes."

*****

Pat turned off the intercom and said to Brenda, "I told you it would work."

*****

Tammy came to the room about ten minutes later. Unhooking me from the IV, she helped me to my feet. The first step I took was far from a balanced one. My muscles would need time to recover from bedrest, but I felt I needed to start walking on my own. It was finally time to do things for myself. So I turned down the wheelchair that Tammy had brought.

Once out in the corridor I got my first good look. My room was only a short distance from the nursing station, that accounted for why my room was seldom totally quiet. Taking Tammy by the hand and leaning on the wall, I took slow steps out toward the antepartum unit's exit.

"Could someone please call Veronica for me and tell her I'm going to the NICU?" I asked about halfway to the exit but not far from the main desk.

"Sure thing," replied Robyn. After consulting a hospital directory the nurse picked up a nearby phone.

As much as I wanted to make the trip on my own, I failed. Only a few feet outside the exit, I almost stumbled. While I held onto a nearby handrail with both hands, Tammy went and fetched the wheelchair. A minute later we were inside the NICU.

The first thing I had to do once inside was thoroughly wash and scrub my hands. Since premature babies have weaker immune systems they need a more anti-septic enviorment.

Once completed, Tammy pushed me to the back of the NICU. My babies were still in the same isolette, co-bedding with each other. At the moment a nurse and doctor were examining them.

"Doctor," Tammy said, "this is the children's mother, Ms. Rachel Klein." After the introduction, my nurse left.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Klein, how are you feeling?" asked the doctor. "My name is Dr. Juan Quinones, I'd like to introduce you to Dolores. She is the nurse caring for your children."

"Hello, Doctor, Dolores," I replied as I tried standing up. It was time for me to really see the babies. I didn't really remember much from the night before.

They were lying side by side in the open isolette. Only wearing diapers, the girls were on the left and right while their brother was in the middle. There was a small white teddy bear in there, also. The one Veronica had bought some time back that said, "We love our Mommies."

'They are beautiful.' Both girls were nearly bald. But my boy had a small bit of hair of a shade of blonde similar to my own. 'The girls even look like me.'

"How are they doing?" I asked the doctor. He gave me a rundown. Other than some breathing difficulties for the boy and all three having a slight case of jaundice, they had apparently been born in good health.

That's when I noticed the lights above the isolette. It was a billi light, used for children that had jaundice. I asked Dr. Quinones if that was the reason, and he said it was.

"The tubes?" All three children were connected to tubes. "Are they being fed through them?"

"Yes, and they're getting antibiotics to prevent infection."

"When do they start feeding? I mean, the normal way?" I asked, staring down at them. Since arriving I could see small reactions from all three. It really was as if they knew my voice.

"Are you going to breastfeed or use formula?" I replied formula. "They should be starting in a day or two. We will teach you how to feed with a bottle."

I was starting to get exhausted from standing. There was a nearby rocking chair, but I wanted to do something first. After first asking the doctor if I could, I reached into the isolette with one hand and touched all three babies.

"Hey, it's your... Mom Rachel. Get strong and well so your Mom Veronica can bring you home." Touching each baby individually, I got slight reactions from all three. Like they knew who it was touching them. "I love you."

Standing on my feet and seeing all three children was both physically and mentally exhausting. So I decided it was time to sit down. Turning the rocking chair so it could face the isolette, I sat down.

Dr. Quinones continued with his examination for another five minutes before leaving. However, Dolores was still there. Because my back was turned to the NICU entrance, I didn't notice a surprise visitor.

"Hey, how are you doing?" It was Veronica. She bent down to kiss me on the forehead. Almost at once my friend started massaging my shoulders. It felt so good. "How long you been here?"

"About ten or fifteen minutes," I replied. "I'm doing okay. How about you?"

"You know, busy busy," Veronica said, looking over at the isolette. "I came up here a couple of times to check on them."

"This is my first visit," I said. "Dr. Quinones says they are doing well."

"I know," Veronica said, and then walked over to the isolette. "Hi, darlings..."

Veronica was talking to the children when something happened that I had been anticipating all day. I passed gas. Both my friend and the nurse heard it, and Veronica gave me a sideways look. The gas was a stinker, too.

"We love you...get well soon so I can take you home. Your Aunt Rachel loves you, too."

"Mom Rachel," I said, speaking up. That brought a smile to Veronica's face.

"Mom Rachel loves you, too. I've got to go, but Mom Rachel is still here with you." Veronica touched the babies before coming back to me.

"I've got to go," Veronica said, "but I'm off tonight at 7 p.m. We can eat dinner together then."

"Sure, you must have heard what just happened."

"Yeah, I smelled it, too," Veronica laughed. "You're bad."

"Remember, you owe me that steak." Veronica said she hadn't forgotten, and after telling me not to exert myself too much, she then left the NICU.

A few minutes later the nurse named Dolores spoke up. "Ms. Klein, would you like to hold your children?"

'Do I want to? Can I? Do I want these babies to get close to me? I won't let them get close to me, but I can hold them for a little while.' I then told the nurse, "Yes, please."

Less than ten minutes later I was holding Baby A or Sarah in my arms. "Am I doing it right?" I asked. I was so afraid to either hurt Sarah or disconnect her IV.

"Perfect," Dolores replied.

"I never had a baby before, or ever held one," I confessed to the nurse while softly rocking Sarah. She was so tiny and precious. My eyes were beginning to fill up with tears. I had given birth to this little girl. "You know, I was a guy before the Shift."

"You're doing fine," Dolores replied. Looking down at my newborn girl in my arms, I think Sarah agreed.

"Sarah, I'm your Mom Rachel. The one you used to kick all the time," I said, rocking back and forth in my chair.

*****

In Room 2016, the Wilsons were getting acquainted with their son Chandler. It just wasn't the way they planned.

About ninety minutes after the boy died, an NICU nurse named Jackie brought Chandler to his parents. This was not an unusual practice at LPCH. When a premature infant died, the parents were given a chance to hold their son or daughter. Particularly if the parents never had a chance to hold the infant before death.

Jackie also gave the couple some pictures of Chandler while he was in the NICU and after he died. The Wilsons were grateful for these since they had been unable to take any during Chandler's short life. Events had just moved too fast.

Also brought by Jackie were brochures for parents who lost a child. There was a grief counseling program at Stanford University called share care. John Wilson was sure the couple would be needing the services of this in the days ahead.

The Wilsons also got a few other things from Jackie. A certificate of life, with Chandler's footprints on it, the boy's bracelet with his name on it, and the name sign that had been on the boy's bed. It said, ‘He's a Boy!' and had the name Chandler Daniel written on it.

The grieving parents listened to Jackie as she gave a short explanation about share care. While the NICU nurse was talking, John was looking at what he and Peg had been given. These and memories were all he and his wife had of Chandler now.

After Jackie left, John began placing some phone calls. His own parents were already on the way back to the hospital, while Peg's parents were flying back from Europe and wouldn't be home until the next day. Nor Nor were there any brothers or sisters living nearby or if they were, like John's sister Lisa and her husband they were also away.

However, some close friends were around. After consulting with Peg, John called a half dozen and told them what happened. Some would soon be visiting the hospital.

Peg was quietly hugging Chandler at this time. Sitting up in her bed, the mother gently rocked her son. John was a little surprised that his wife wasn't crying now. She had been nearly hysterical at the news of Chandler's death. For now an air of serenity settled over Peg.

"Isn't Chandler handsome?"

"Very. Got your eyes." The boy was born weighing less than three pounds, but looked just like any other sleeping newborn. At least John Wilson thought so.

"How can you tell?" Peg said with a slight smile.

"I just know," John Wilson said, and then kissed his wife.

"Chandler, Mommy and Daddy love you very much."

"Would you like me to buy a disposable camera and take some photos?" John asked. The father wanted more photos than the four given to the parents by the hospital. "I can probably get one downstairs at the gift shop. Or I can go to the drugstore that is a mile from here."

Peg didn't answer immediately. She was concentrating on Chandler too much. When the mother did answer, she shook her head. "No, John."

While Peg seemed content holding her son, John had another task to perform. Picking up the phone, he dialed information for Willow Funeral Homes. After speaking to the operator, John hung up the phone before dialing the number he was given. As the phone began to ring, the father held his head his hands.

'Why my boy?'

*****

I held each of my three babies for about ten minutes and spent about another ninety minutes in the NICU before returning back to the room. With each baby I got the sense they liked being held by me. This was something I felt instinctively. As newborns, all they did was squirm a little in my arms. But I could feel they were content and I felt good holding them. These babies needed me at least for the next few days.

The return trip to my room was totally done without a wheelchair. It was a slow and somewhat painful trip. My muscles were so weak from lack of use. By the time I was back to the antepartum unit I was exhausted.

Pat was behind the desk and smiled at my return. "How did it go?"

"Good," I replied, walking slowly with my left side almost leaning on the wall. "Thank you for earlier."

"You're welcome. You did the right thing."

"I know, and I'm going back later. Veronica gets off at seven. Right now I just need to rest." I was almost to the door when Tammy arrived. A few minutes later I was back in bed and giving Tammy a report on my visit. After my nurse left the room I put my bed down and tried to get some sleep.

*****

It was around 7:15 while I was watching CNN news that Veronica arrived in the room. She was carrying a plastic bag.

"How are you doing, Mom Rachel?" Veronica said, putting down what was apparently our dinner and then kissing my forehead.

"Good, just a little sore." Actually, I was surprised not to be hurting much more than I was. According to Tammy I was on Demerol for pain. My pain from using my unused leg muscles trying to take a walk was as bad as my surgical incision. That said how unaffected I was by the pain. What was really bothering me was my stomach, I was starved. "I see you brought dinner."

"You're always thinking of food," Veronica laughed, and then helped me out of bed so we could both eat at the small table in the room.

I was really looking forward to that steak I had been demanding when I got a surprise. The plastic container had barbecue chicken inside. "What happened to my steak?"

"Sorry, I just didn't have time. So I had to settle for food from the cafeteria. But I promise to get you a steak soon," Veronica replied.

"Promises, promises." I was too hungry to complain. Having sampled the cafeteria's barbecue chicken before, I knew it tasted halfway decent. So I decided to dig right in.

Veronica and I talked over dinner. Mostly small talk either involving her day at work or my visit to the NICU.

"I enjoyed the visit. It really felt nice holding the babies," I said.

"I'm glad you went. Babies in the NICU need the touch of people who love them."

"I know," I said. "I'd like to come up here and see them after I'm discharged."

"Come as much as you want," Veronica smiled. You know, I was just realizing she had a nice smile. It really lit up her face. "The babies will be happy to see their Mom Rachel."

"Yes, I am their Mom," I told Veronica. "I gave them life and that is what a mother does."

Veronica started choking up on tears. "You know, I miss Rachel more than ever now. I wish she could see them. She was so excited to be a mother."

"I'm still planning to go back to my life, but I'd like to come visit regularly."

"No problem," Veronica said. I could tell my friend might have had other hopes. "You can see them any time you wish."

"Want to go back to the NICU when we're done eating?" I asked, and Veronica said certainly. In a couple of minutes we were done eating and with Veronica to lean on and to hold my hand we made the journey back to the NICU.

All three babies were asleep in the NICU when we got there. So Veronica and I stood at the isolette and talked to them for a few minutes while gently touching all three of them.

"You know," Veronica said in a whisper, "the girls look just like you and Rachel."

Looking at the sleeping girls, I had to agree with Veronica. Then I thought of something else. "Could they be identicals?"

"It's possible, but the only way to find out is to have the testing done."

"Oh." I wasn't sure if would want the test done, and decided to let Veronica make the decision. Did it make any difference if they were identical or not?

Not wanting to disturb the children, Veronica and I spent about an hour in the NICU either sitting and resting or talking to the babies. We then went back to my room for the evening.

On the way back, Veronica asked, "You don't mind if I sleep in the room tonight? I'm exhausted."

"No, not at all."

*****

Around 8 p.m. an NICU nurse returned to room 2016 to retrieve Chandler Daniel. The boy had been in the room for almost five hours, but the funeral home would soon be arriving to pick him up. Only seconds after the nurse and Chandler left, both Wilsons began wailing away.

"Chandler, I love you, please forgive me," cried Peg Wilson. "I'm sorry, it's my fault."

John was crying too for Chandler. He didn't blame Peg for what happened. The former man had been hard headed, and dumb sometimes after the Shift, but Chandler's death wasn't her fault. John was sure of it. "Peg, don't blame yourself," he said, holding his wife's hand. "It's not your fault. Chandler was a sick boy."

"Yes, Peg," said Linda Parsons, a very close friend of the Wilsons. "Think of it, he is an angel in heaven now. His suffering is over."

"I miss my son. I love him." Peg continued crying. "God forgive me, Chandler forgive me."

John and Linda tried consoling Peg for another ten minutes, but with little success. Mrs. Wilson continued to feel she was at fault for her son's death.

The timing wasn't the best, but John had to mention something. "Peg, I need to go home for a little bit."

"Why? Don't leave me."

"Peg, I've been wearing these same clothes for two days. I promise, I'll be right back," John Wilson said, calculating the roundtrip plus changing clothes and feeding the family's cat would take about an hour. "I won't be long."

Peg continued insisting on John staying. She needed him now. Linda was getting ready to excuse herself and go home herself. "Peg, I'll stay with you while John is gone."

"Thanks, Linda. I'll be back as fast as I can. Peg, what do you think?"

Peg still didn't want her husband to leave. John explained why it was necessary.

"Don't take too long," Peg said. Her sobbing had slowed down some. "Drive safely."

"I will." John kissed his wife. "Bye."

John said thank you to Linda again before leaving the room. Turning to his left, the father walked out of the antepartum unit, past the nursery and NICU and headed to the hospital's main entrance.

Right now John had many things on his mind, Chandler's death being just one. It was still such a shock. Why did the boy die so suddenly? However, the father's biggest concern right now was Peg's recovery. Not just physical but mentally as well. John thought Peg had often been foolish during the pregnancy but he didn't blame her for his son's death.

What the father knew lie ahead for the couple was a grieving and healing process. One that would take time. Chandler's death had greatly affected the couple's relationship but it could also be something for both John and Peg to grow stronger together from. Again, only time would tell.

As John Wilson drove out of the parking lot, time weighed heavily on his mind. Not how long it would take him to get back to Peg, but how long it would take Peg to recover from the shock and loss due to Chandler's death?

*****

Sunday, October 15, 2000

Dear Diary,

There is so much to write about that I just don't know where to start.

After much convincing, mostly from Pat, I paid a visit to the NICU to visit the children. They are all doing well and hopefully will be out of the hospital within a month.

I did this despite being strongly inclined to do otherwise. What made me do it? The talk from Pat was very convincing. I had to go if only for the reason the babies needed to know I cared and loved them. I do care for them and I admit it now, I love them. After all, I am their mother.

Sound incredible that I am saying those words? The word mother as defined by the dictionary is a female parent. I am female, regrettably. Parent defined by the same dictionary is one that begets or brings forth offspring. The three children I gave birth to on Sunday are my offspring. They spent the previous ten and a half weeks in the female womb I now possess.

As a mother I have some responsibilities. I nurtured them inside me until they were able to come forth into the world. Now these children are still in need of attention. Veronica works very demanding hours and I think I'd like to come see them. At least until all three are out of the NICU. Veronica is very supportive of this.

But that's all. The job of raising these children won't be mine. I am not suited to it, I don't want to do it, these babies need someone who wants to do the job and can do it. Someone better than I.

Dr. Crowe came in this morning. I am still on schedule to be discharged on Tuesday.

This morning Veronica and I posed holding the babies for several photos. The NICU nurse, Caroline, obliged us by taking the photos. All three children are doing well, only the boy needs any breathing help. Later today the first try at feeding the babies by bottle will be made.

I went online this morning and almost instantly regretted it. Three friends started instant messaging me all at once. I want to chat with them eventually, but don't feel up to it at the moment. I've got to send emails out to some friends and unsub myself from the mailing lists I'm on. This I will take care of sometime later this week after I get home.

Veronica overnighted with me last night. She zonked out in the recliner in the room. I really don't know how she does it. Work 80-100 hour weeks and look after me and her children. And it will only get worse after the children come home from the NICU.

You know, Veronica is really a beautiful person. I mean inside and out. Last night she was walking around semi-naked in my room and I was finding myself fantasizing. Too bad she's a mother to three kids.

I slept pretty well last night. The funny thing is I kind of miss the babies kicking me, even their usual 4 a.m. wakeup call. I got up about that time to make a trip to the bathroom and I was wondering why they didn't kick me. It has to be those pregnancy hormones. I've got to wonder how much longer I will be acting like this.

I'm not in all that much pain from the surgery but my muscles still ache. I'm aiming for January 2nd to be my first day back at Smith Barney.

The Rabbi and his wife are coming later. Adrian and Stephanie, too. I'll be going back to the NICU shortly. I'm going to do about two hours there at a time, I still get tired very easy.

I might write again later today.

*****

After about two hours in the NICU I was beginning to get tired again. It was almost 11:30 and I figured I would go back to my room.

I had come over to the NICU just before 9:30. Very soon afterwards the Rabbi Harold Horowitz and his wife Myra paid a visit. Mr. Rabinowitz is the Rabbi at the synagogue Rachel and Veronica belonged too. Myra took turns with me holding the babies while we talked.

The Rabbi said that normally the bris or circumcision for the baby boy was done on the eighth day after birth. Since Benjamin was born prematurely, it would be postponed until a later time. I'm planning to attend this and the naming ceremony.

Getting out of the rocking chair to make my trip back to the room, I decided to say good-bye to the babies first. "Your Mom Rachel is tired, but will be back later. I love all of you."

As I touched them before I was to leave, Baby C or Mariel started to get fussy and then began to cry. One look at her diaper supplied the reason. The newborn girl had just peed.

The nurse Josie had stepped away for a minute, so I went and found her. "One of the girls needs to be changed."

"How would you like to have the honor?" Josie asked.

"Me?" I asked in shock. "I never changed a diaper in my life."

"It's a good as any time to learn."

Shortly afterwards I began my first diaper changing lesson. For sanitary reasons, Mariel was moved to another table. There Josie demonstrated to me the ways a diaper was folded so to be snugly on a baby and to prevent leaks. I just watched Josie do the changing with the excuse that I'd do the next one.

And as if to tease her Mom Rachel, Sarah decided it was her turn. I had no way of backing out of this one. So Sarah and I were brought to the same changing station and Josie handed me the diaper. Then the nurse went back to the isolette where the two other infants were.

First was the removal of the diaper. Then using baby wipes I thoroughly wiped Sarah clean, going back to front. Then it was time to put the diaper on, but I remembered to keep Sarah covered up. Josie had given me some advice from her being a mother of two. First rule of diaper changing is - Duck and Cover.

Then it was time to actually put the new diaper on. Men before they become fathers don't realize that diaper changing is not like changing underwear. Just slip one on and take one off. First, with diapers they must be unfastened or untaped. Or in this case, taped back shut so the diaper is snug on the baby but not overly tight.

I had thought I did a good job with Sarah and was about to pick up the girl. But first I said, "Let's see how Mom Rachel did with your diaper."

If diaper changing class had been in session that day, I would have failed. It fell off. Back to the drawing board.

My second effort was a success. Little did I know but Veronica had come up to the NICU and had watched much of the spectacle from a distance. I didn't notice her presence until it was time to return Sarah to the isolette.

"When did you get up here?" I asked as I helped Josie put the infant girl back in the isolette.

"Oh, about five minutes ago," Veronica said with a grin. Since Sarah was back in the isolette, I sat back down in the rocking chair. I was surprised at how easily I got exhausted now. Pregnancy, even if done on bedrest, was really hard work.

"You must have caught the show then?"

"Yes, I did!" Veronica giggled. "But you did it great on the second try. So, how are you feeling?"

"Just exhausted, I was about ready to go back to the room."

"I'm on my lunch break," Veronica said. "They were going to let us start bottlefeeding the girls. Do you want to stay?"

'I'm really getting too drawn into this mothering crap. I really should start drawing a line. Not just for my own sanity, but for these children. They should know I am not going to be that big a part of their lives,' I thought to myself. Unfortunately, my willpower wasn't as strong and to some extent I enjoyed doing it. It made my days go so much faster. "Sure."

A few minutes later Josie had both Sarah and Mariel plus two baby bottles ready for us. I was going to take Mariel and Veronica to take Sarah, but suddenly Sarah began to get fussy at her Mommy Veronica holding her. But the instant I took the infant girl, all was well.

"She really likes you," Veronica said.

"Must be our diaper episode," I replied. "She must be hoping Mom Rachel is going to make a fool of herself a second time."

"No, she just loves her Mom Rachel most."

Both baby bottles were prepared with 3-4 oz. of baby formula. Since babies don't learn the sucking reflex until thirty-three or thirty-four weeks, we had to be careful both girls actually drank the formula and not spat it up.

I watched Sarah carefully as she took the first bottle of her life. The infant girl really was beautiful and the moment she started feeding she seemed so content. I couldn't help feel that I was watching a miracle, a newborn life taking its first steps in life's journey.

'Sarah, I can't believe I made you. Only two days ago you were inside me, now I'm holding you in my arms. I love you,' I thought as my eyes began to fill with tears.

"How are you two doing?" Veronica asked.

"Oh, okay, Sarah seems like a natural with the bottle," I said as I tried to stop the tears. 'Don't let yourself get suckered into this mothering business. Remember, once you do, you are committed for a lifetime. You aren't a female.'

"Mariel, too. Hopefully Benjamin can start in a day or two."

Feeding the children took about twenty minutes. Sarah the first to quit, she started pulling away from the bottle though I felt she still had a tiny bit more to drink. A quick checkup done by Josie of the baby bottle only showed a very tiny amount of spit-up for Sarah. The girl was ready to go back to the isolette.

Mariel had done similarly, and after both girls were put in the isolette, Veronica and I made the short if still slow journey back to my room.

"They both did so well. When do you think they can get discharged?" I asked.

"If nothing comes up, three weeks," Veronica said. "It looks like the girls just have minor premie issues. Basically they have to make sure they keep their body temperature up and have the breathing and feeding down pat."

"Benjamin?" I was wondering about the boy. He seemed to be lagging behind his sisters.

"He'll be fine. Dr. Stiles said he has lost a little weight but that isn't unusual. I think Benjamin just wants some attention."

"Yes, maybe." By now we were back to the room and after a bathroom trip, Veronica helped me back into my bed.

"I've got to get back to work," Veronica said. "You know I can never thank you enough for taking over as a surrogate mother for my children. Thank you."

"It was the least I could do," I said. Veronica then gave me a kiss and hug.

"Anything I can do for you before I go?"

"Just ask Tammy to stop by the room," I asked. Veronica said she would and then left the room. About five minutes later my nurse came in.

"So, how did the visit go?"

"Very good, I got to change my first diaper and feed one of the girls."

"That's great," Tammy replied. "You need anything now?"

"Could I have something for the pain?"

"When was the last time you took something?"

"Six in the morning."

"You sure can then. I'll be right back." Tammy then left the room and was back in less than five minutes with my pills. I took them with a small sip of water.

"Tammy, can I ask one more thing?"

"Sure, fire away."

"When will my milk or colestrum come in?"

"Why, are you thinking of breastfeeding?" Tammy asked. "It really is best for newborn infants."

"No, I wasn't," I said, drawing a line that I planned not to cross. "Just curious because when do I when I start?"

"That's all right, lots of mothers don't breastfeed. If you aren't, you should really start putting ice on your breasts. This will slow lactation. Would you like to start that now?"

"No, maybe later, I'm exhausted and want to take a rest." Tammy said that was fine, and after checking my vitals she left the room. Putting my bed down some, I soon fell asleep.

*****

"Sweetheart, it's time to go," John Wilson said to his wife Peg. He had already gotten the car packed. Now he was back with a wheelchair for his wife's discharge from Lucile Packard Children's Hospital.

"I lost my baby," Peg Wilson said softly as she began crying again. She was leaving the hospital now, and her life felt as empty as her body now. Deep in her mind she couldn't shake feelings of culpability in her son's death. "And it's my fault!"

Antepartum unit nursing supervisor Brenda was also in the room. She had already processed her patient's discharge paperwork and gave Peg aftercare instructions. Unfortunately, the nurse knew there were no words that could relieve the pain Mrs. Wilson was now feeling.

Brenda bent down and hugged the grieving mother. "Peg, I know the loss you have suffered. I miscarried a baby myself. The pain you are feeling isn't something only you have known, but many mothers. Our baby is gone but he lives on with God now and in our hearts. I truly believe that. But please don't blame yourself. It may be difficult to see now, but there was a reason."

Brenda sincerely believed what she said, but she knew from her years of working as a nurse that there were no words that could console a grieving mother. The nurse loved her work, bringing new life into the world was a rewarding and usually joyous experience. But in sixteen years, Brenda had seen too many mothers leave the hospital without their babies. The pain a mother or parent felt could be best described as having a piece of their soul taken from them. Nothing could ever heal that wound.

"Yes, sweetheart, we have an angel in heaven," John Wilson said holding his wife's hand. "Chandler was sick, and now God made him better."

"I miss my son." Peg Wilson continued to cry.

"I do too, we both do." John Wilson kissed his wife. He vowed to get Peg to grief counseling as soon as possible after the funeral. He needed it, too. While not showing his emotions, the father had suffered tremendously also from the loss of his son. He had tried to stay strong for his wife. "We will have another baby one day."

Brenda pushed Mrs. Wilson to the main elevators where along with John Wilson they all made the trip to the ground floor. The Wilson family car was already waiting at the main hospital entrance.

Brenda helped Peg into the car while John put the last bag in the car's trunk. Once the mother was safely inside, Brenda gently closed the car door.

"Thanks, Brenda, for everything," John said.

"You're welcome. Take good care of her, and good luck."

"I will, I'm going to call that grief counselor as soon as I can," John said, and after a final good-bye to the nurse, the father walked around to the driver's side of the car and climbed in.

Once back at their Sunnyvale home, John helped his wife out of the car and into the house. Once inside they went straight to the master bedroom. The mother had barely spoken a word during the car ride home, but did say once at home that she wanted to go to bed.

In bed, the mother grabbed a large hugging pillow and began to cry. "God forgive me, I killed my baby." John sat on the edge of the bed holding his wife's hand and reassuring her that it wasn't her fault, but Peg continued to cry until she exhausted herself and finally fell asleep.

Seeing that his wife had fallen asleep, John quietly left the bedroom and went out to the garage where the family car was parked. He began taking Peg's possessions back into the house.

The whole hospital stay and what happened to their son Chandler would obviously be a touchy matter for some time, so instead of bringing Peg's belongings to the bedroom John brought them to another room in the house. It would have been the nursery.

John couldn't help but feel sad entering the room. He had spent an entire weekend two weeks earlier setting up the room. In one corner there was the baby dresser and on one wall the baby changing station. But the main feature of the room that had a Winnie the Pooh motif was the crib. The father hurriedly put the bags down in the room and then closed the door. The room was just too sad for him.

Going back to the kitchen, John got out a note pad and pen. There was so much to do right now, he thought he'd better start writing a list. There was so much to be done at the moment, that the father needed to jot it down so he wouldn't forget it.

There was of course seeing to the care of Peg. John's parents would be coming over that night and spend some time with their son and daughter-in-law. There were also some prescriptions that needed to be picked up from the pharmacy.

One of which would be for Zoloft, a medication used for depression or in Peg's case PPD. Post partum depression was almost a certainty for the grieving mother.

John picked up the phone and dialed a number. It was for Share Care, a bereavement support group out of nearby Stanford University. Unfortunately they were closed for the day, so the father would have to call back tomorrow.

"I need to make that first priority tomorrow," John said to himself. He was a very organized man, just like before the shift she had been an organized woman. The shift had changed many things but it hadn't changed human nature. The father knew his wife would need a great deal of help and support in the days ahead and it would be up to him to arrange it.

At the top of the list were the funeral arrangements for Chandler, John would have to visit a nearby cemetery sometime tomorrow. A funeral home was already making arrangements for the funeral which would be Thursday.

John looked down at the list. There was a lot to do. But he had to do it. Peg was in no condition to even give the slightest assistance. But there was one thing that wasn't on the list.

The former woman dropped his head into his hands and began to cry. It was time for John to grieve for his lost son as only a father can.

*****

I got back to my hospital room at 6:45 p.m. after spending the last hour in the NICU. Most of it spent feeding the girls. Bottle feeding two infants took forty minutes, but I had enjoyed the experience. The only drawback was the exhaustion I was now feeling. Maybe I was trying to do too much.

My body or at least my muscles were slowly getting better. I was making the trips back and forth to the NICU on my own two feet. Some bedrest mothers need canes or walkers after being on bedrest for long amounts of time, so I was rather fortunate.

A minute or two after I got to the room, I got a visitor. It was Pat.

"Hi, Pat, what brings you here today?" I asked. Pat wasn't my nurse today.

"Just came to say good-bye and wish you good luck," Pat said. "I'm off for the next three days."

"Thanks, Pat, I appreciate it," I replied. My dislike of my new lot in life had never poisoned the respect and affection that had grown inside me for the wonderful nurses and staff at the antepartum unit. Pat and Aida were probably my favorites, but I liked all the nurses. They had made the last two months if not bearable at least a safe experience for me. I would never forget that.

"So, how is Mom feeling?"

"Okay pretty much, but I get tired very easy."

"That's normal. Taking care of those babies is hard work."

"Yes, it is." I gave Pat a brief rundown of my day. "I did feedings at Noon, three and six. That's a little bit of why I'm tired."

"Don't push it too hard. You should be going home in two days, I guess you'll be happy to be out of here."

"Yes, very, I feel like I'm like a slave being set free by his master." Pat and I shared a laugh.

"That bad?"

"Being in bed for ten weeks was no picnic," I said. "But I've got to tell you, I couldn't have done it without you and the other nurses."

"Glad we were able to help you," Pat said. "And you did great. Thirty-three weeks is very good for triplets."

"Yes, I know."

"What are your plans once you're out of jail?"

"Just go home, rest and heal," I said. "I won't go back to Smith Barney until December or January."

"Are you a stockbroker?" Pat asked.

"Yes, I've been doing it for ten years since I graduated from college."

"The markets are horrible since the Shift, do you think they will ever bounce back?"

"I think they will, but it may be some time before it happens. The world is still pretty chaotic out there."

"Did you make good money?

"All right, I suppose."

"You have many clients?"

"An average amount."

"Have some of them been with you a long time?"

"A few."

"They probably like you. They trust you," Pat said.

"Yes, I suppose."

"And you like helping them."

"Yes. I like my job."

"Kind of like you enjoyed feeding your daughters today?" Pat asked. "Even taking the time to help change their diapers."

I smiled at Pat. "Did anyone ever tell you that you missed your true calling?"

"I don't know what you mean." Pat grinned back.

"Psychology. You would have made a fortune."

"Naah. I like the job I do already. Besides, I'd be no good at Psychology."

"You...you're very, very good." I pointed my finger at Pat. She laughed at my Robert DeNiro impersonation from Analyze This. Too bad she hadn't seen me do it before the Shift.

"Thank you." Pat smiled. "It's just my opinion that you like being a mom. You're already good at the job and definitely have the motherly instincts."

"Pat, I already stated my feelings on the subject." I liked Pat, but I had to hold my ground. "Yes, I enjoyed today and everything. I am not totally going to abandon them. I'm going to see them all the time, I'm planning to visit here at the NICU. But Veronica would be a better mother than I."

"I respectfully disagree," Pat said. "You'd be great moms together. The two of you."

"Pat...are you trying to play lesbian matchmaker now, too?"

"Me? No." Pat grinned. "I'm too Catholic for that. But the nurses and I always liked Dr. Schwartz."

"Did you know or meet the real Rachel?"

"No, unfortunately," Pat explained. "The day Rachel was admitted I wasn't her nurse, and then I was off the next day and then the day the Shift happened."

I had been saying a prayer for Rachel for almost two months. Wherever she was now I prayed that she was happy.

"Dr. Schwartz certainly likes you, and unless I am badly mistaken, you have feelings for her."

I just remained silent.

"I spoke my piece. Anyway, I've got to get back to my charts or I will never get out of here." Pat bent down and gave me a hug. "Please stop back by, we want to know how you and the babies are doing."

"I will. Bye, Pat." The nurse then left the room. I had already looked at the dinner brought by dietary. Chicken ala King. I'd be glad to be getting discharged in two days.

Veronica didn't show up until almost 7:30. I had called her earlier asking if she could bring food, and my friend complied. To my surprise she had finally brought the steak I had been requesting. It came with French fries and a salad.

I was about to dig in when I noticed Veronica didn't have anything for herself. "Aren't you going to eat?"

"No, I'm not hungry," Veronica said, watching me take my first bite. "How is it?"

"Delicious," I replied. 'No, I can't do this, I don't feel right.' Getting up out of my chair I went to my food service tray and grabbed a plate.

"What are you doing?" Veronica asked.

"I can't eat while you sit here and watch me," I said, carving the steak in half and then putting some of the French fries on the plate. "So I'm sharing mine."

"Thank you." Veronica smiled and dug right into the food I gave her.

Over dinner Veronica and I mostly did small talk. I also gave her thorough updates on all three babies.

"I got to do my first nasty courtesy of Sarah," I told Veronica. "This time the diaper stayed on afterwards."

"You're getting so domesticated, and Sarah seems like a real Mom Rachel's girl."

"Well, maybe." I finally decided to bring a certain subject up. Veronica had brought a suitcase to the room when she arrived earlier. "What's the bag for?"

"I thought I'd start taking home Rachel's things," Veronica said. By the look on her face I could see this was going to be an emotional experience. "We are lucky not to need a moving van. Is that all right?"

"No, no problem at all."

"Do you mind if I pack up the Bose tonight?" I told her to go ahead.

After finishing dinner, Veronica started packing up odds and ends in the room while I climbed back in bed. I was absolutely exhausted and felt like going to sleep almost immediately.

"You don't mind if I don't go back to the NICU with you?" I asked. "It's just been a long day."

"No, not at all. You need to get some rest. Anyway, I won't be staying long." Veronica finished her packing and then came over to my bed. "You get a good night's sleep and I'll see you in the morning. I love you."

Veronica bent down to kiss me. For a moment she appeared ready to kiss me on the lips but instead kissed me on the cheek. "Bye."

*****

Monday, October 16, 2000

Dear Diary

One day 'til the slave goes free! It really will be wonderful to get out of here.

I'm doing well. Still sore, but not too bad. I get tired rather easily but I'm recovering faster than I thought I would.

The children are still progressing. I got to feed Sarah and Mariel yesterday with bottles. It was a pleasant experience and the girls seemed to enjoy it. Benjamin is slightly behind his sisters and still needs CPAP, but we hope to have him feeding in the next couple of days.

I got to change my first diapers, too. My first try was a failure but the other three attempts worked. Don't even ask about the nasty one Sarah produced. Merconium, Eeeeeew!

Adrian and Stephanie are going to stop by today. Nancy apologized for not coming by this weekend. She was too busy with the kids. I perfectly understand.

I'm mulling over asking Veronica if I could stay at her apartment for the first week or ten days after I get discharged. This would let me see the children more in addition to having Veronica closer by if I need her. Right now I haven't made up my mind on the subject.

Looks like tomorrow will be my last diary entry. Talk to you then.

*****

I had just finished doing the girl's 9 a.m. feeding when the Charge nurse named Linda walked up to me. "You have a visitor."

It was Adrian, but Stephanie wasn't with her. I said to the nurse, "Let her in, she's my friend."

After washing her hands, Adrian came over and gave me a kiss and hug. She then walked over to the isolette and gazed at the babies. "They are absolutely adorable."

"Thank you."

Adrian put her hand in the isolette and started playing with each baby's feet. "Coo Coo Coo, it's your Aunt Adrian, and aren't you girls and guy so precious..."

While Adrian was talking to the babies, the NICU desk clerk named Amy approached me. "Ms. Klein, here are some forms we need you to sign. It's to grant the hospital permission to put your children's photo on our website under recent arrivals."

I wasn't sure if I wanted to do this. Having read the Triplet connection forum long enough, I knew that some 'kooks' or curiosity seekers found triplets fascinating. "I need to discuss this with Veronica first."

"All right, just let us know sometime today."

Adrian was still talking to the babies. "You are so lucky. You have two loving Mommies to take care of you."

"You really like them, I see," I said, still seated in the rocking chair.

"They are so precious, I'd love to just take them home."

"You could have your own one day if you and Stephanie wanted."

"I don't know if I'd go that far," Adrian said as she decided to let the children rest. She took the other chair by the isolette. "So, how are you?"

"Pretty good," I replied. "The fatigue is almost as bad as the pain which isn't so bad."

"That's good, you will certainly need the rest now. You and Veronica are going to have your hands full."

"They're Veronica's responsibility," I said, not getting annoyed. "I'm going to see them regularly, but not take care of them every day until they go to college."

"Sorry, I forgot," Adrian apologized. "It's just you, Veronica and the kids makes such an adorable family."

I was getting tired of hearing this from my friends. "Can we please change subjects?"

"Sure, I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too, I shouldn't have bit your head off. Where is Stephanie, by the way? I thought she was coming today, too."

"She's busy rehearsing for her new show."

"So you two are really going back to work?"

"A girl has to make an honest living somehow." We both laughed at this. It was more the way Adrian said it than the words. Two former Drag Queens now performing as Drag Kings. The world truly had gone insane since the Shift.

"But why aren't you rehearsing?"

"Darling, because I am just so good," Adrian replied, and I got a good laugh out of it.

"When do both of you start your new show?"

"First Saturday in November. Are you going to come see it?"

"Definitely, I'm looking forward to it." I had never been to a drag show in my life. "Is it anything like the movie The Birdcage? I thought that movie was a riot." I still recalled the night Lilah and I had seen it like four years earlier, we had laughed hysterically. Especially at the scene where Gene Hackman in drag told his driver to meet him and the driver's response, "Not for a million dollars, lady."

"No, we're better," Adrian replied. "So, when are you coming home?"

"Tomorrow. I'm really looking forward to it."

"You must be. I can only imagine what the last ten weeks have been like for you. So, where do live?"

"Mountain View." I still hadn't made up my mind whether to ask Veronica if I could stay with her or not.

"That's not far away at all."

Adrian and I sat for a few minutes before I spoke up again. "You wouldn't mind doing me a big favor?" My Drag King friend asked what it was. "I'd really like to get outside the hospital and see the sun. Could you get a wheelchair and take me there?"

A few minutes later and after Adrian located a wheelchair, we were headed to the hospital's main entrance. Taking the elevator down to the first floor, we turned left down the hallway until it ended and then turned left. The main entrance was thirty feet away.

Adrian took me directly outside and down the sidewalk, maybe ten yards before parking the wheelchair. I just sat there for ten minutes soaking in the October sun and breathing in the fresh air. It felt so good to be finally outside after eleven weeks of being in an antiseptic hospital. 'Tomorrow I will finally be free. I vow not to go anywhere near a hospital for a long time.'

My friend was patient seeing how I enjoyed being outside. After about ten minutes, Adrian asked, "How would you like to see the rest of the hospital?"

"I'd like that." And Adrian began pushing the wheelchair again.

Adrian made a great tour guide, she still remembered her way around the hospital from her days as an employee there. The first stop was the pediatric oncology ward. We hoped to say hello to Veronica there, but she was busy. We just waved and went back on our way.

For thirty minutes my tour guide showed me around the hospital. We passed by the hospital's other entrance, the Emergency Room, the cafeteria and the gift shop. I got up out of the chair and browsed in the gift shop for a few minutes before we went back on our way.

Finally we went back to the second floor. After briefly going by the nursery, we went back to the NICU. I asked Adrian to bring me there.

After checking on my three sleeping angels, I sat back down in the rocking chair. It was 11:15 by now and I figured I'd stay there until I did the Noon feeding.

But Adrian had to go. "Bye, sweetheart. Keep in touch with me and Stephanie." My friend then bent down and kissed me on the cheek.

"I will, bye," I replied. Adrian immediately left the NICU. The moment I sat back in the rocking chair, I began to yawn.

The NICU clock said twelve o'clock when I was shaken awake. Opening my eyes, I saw the face of Veronica very close up. I couldn't help but notice her eyes. They are really quite beautiful.

"Hey, sleepy head. Want me to help you with the Noon feeding?"

*****

Veronica and I did the noon feeding. Afterwards, I went back to my hospital room where I ate lunch and then took a nap. I was beginning to wonder when my energy levels would return to normal.

I also did the 3 p.m. and 6 p.m. feedings. My trip to the NICU at 3 p.m. also involved a round of diaper changing. I guess the gang were all saving it just for me.

At 6:45 p.m. I retired to the room for the night. This would be my final night in the hospital, and I was really looking forward to it. Robyn and Tammy stopped by. Both were off the next day and wanted to say good-bye. I will miss them.

At 7:30 Veronica showed up, bringing both dinner for the two of us from the cafeteria along with two empty suitcases. We immediately began to dig into the spaghetti while we talked about each other's respective days.

After dinner was over, Veronica had something to show me. It was my clothes for my discharge. A hunter green maternity dress or postpartum smock, with white strips around the neck and sleeves and buttons below the neck. Later on, with closer examination I would notice how the dress opened up, it was well suited for a nursing mother.

"How do you like?"

"It's pretty." I just couldn't believe I was willingly going to wear a dress. But I didn't have much choice.

"I also brought these," Veronica said, pointing to underwear she had brought. "I'll bring a suitcase full of Rachel's clothes for you tomorrow. The Hallorans have volunteered to pick you up tomorrow, they will drive you down to Mountain View."

Looking at Veronica I couldn't help but see the pain she was suffering now. In a way her giving me these clothes was another 'ending' to her relationship with Rachel. I truly felt sorry for my friend.

As I watched Veronica pack the last items in the room I thought about where I would be living the next few days or weeks. The same thing I had mentioned in my diary earlier that day.

"Veronica, I've got a question to ask you," I began to say, and swallowed hard. "Could I possibly stay at your place for a week or two?"

My friend was in dumbfounded shock from my question.

"Just until I see the doctor, or until the kids come home. I'd like to see them every day if I can. If it wasn't too much trouble."

Veronica changed her look, she went from shock to a smile. "Sure you can. My place is small if that doesn't bother you."

"No, not at all. I just thought it would be more convenient for me. You said it's close to the doctor and hospital."

"Yes, only five or ten minutes. If you were feeling well you could even walk to the hospital."

"So it's all right?"

"Absolutely." I could tell Veronica was trying to avoid crying. Am I leading her on? Could I be wrong in doing this? I mean, I might be letting her think we might have a chance for something meaningful together. There is no question I like her, and I could even love Veronica. But I can't be a mother to three children. I can't.

Veronica by now was done with the packing. Putting the two bags by the door she came over to the bed and bent down. "I'll see you tomorrow. Bye."

"Bye," I replied as my friend went to kiss me on the cheek. Instead I turned my head and gave her a peck on the lips. 'What have you done?'

Veronica tried to act unfazed by what I had done, but I knew otherwise. She then took the suitcases and left the room.

*****

Tuesday, October 17th

Dear Diary,

I'm free at last. Oh, not really, but I should be within the next few hours.

My milk came in this morning. At around 4 a.m. I woke to use the bathroom when I noticed the front of my gown was wet. Sure enough, my breasts have begun to lactate. I have been busying myself with the babies and been so excited over my impending discharge that I never did apply the ice as the nurse said would prevent this. I'll have to ask what I should do now before leaving today. In the meantime, I'm wearing a nursing bra. 40DDD. Oi Vei!

News Flash - I saw my feet while standing for the first time ever. Yeah!!!!!!!!!

Second News Flash - This girl has to go on a diet. Plus I need a tummy tuck. Ever seen a balloon after all the air is let out? That's what my stomach looks like.

Third News Flash - My outfit for today. A hunter green maternity gown with white trim. Me wearing a dress. I have no choice...

Forth News Flash - I spent a good twenty minutes in the bathroom trying to look my best this morning. You must think I'm nuts, but I did. Makeup and lipstick are beyond me, but I did spend time mostly combing my unruly hair. I really must do something about it, but I have changed my mind from what I said before. Maybe I will get a hairdo like Alina Cho. Manageable, short, but pretty.

The girls are continuing to do good, but I'm beginning to worry about Benjamin's slow progress. The doctors and Veronica seem unconcerned so I must just be a worry wart.

I did the 6 a.m. feedings. 9 a.m. and Noon are iffy, but I'll be back later in the day for perhaps 3 p.m. and 6 p.m.

Yes, I'm staying with Veronica. She's happy to have me around, not that I blame her. The kids still need help and attention. So I'll be staying at the townhouse here in Palo Alto for something like a week to three at the outside. I might hang around until the babies come home. I'll stay at least until the doctor releases me to being able to drive.

From the, Oh, what have I just done department - I kissed Veronica on the lips last night. Granted that it was nice, but you already know my feelings on the subject.

This is not my final good-bye. I'm going to keep an NICU diary until the kids come home. So where is the frigging doctor now??????

Oh, here she is now. Ciao!

*****

It was 10:15 when Brenda arrived with my chariot, or I mean wheelchair. "The big moment has finally arrived," the nurse said.

Dr. Crowe visited at 8:45. She took out some stitches and we went over my care. I am not allowed to drive until after my doctor's appointment on the 27th. So it really is good that I will be staying here in Palo Alto.

Other than that, I had a good chat with the doctor. I thanked Dr. Crowe for all she did for me and the babies.

Then I had to wait. I didn't do the 9 a.m. feeding, but the NICU was already warned about that. So I called the Hallorans who came to the hospital shortly before 10 a.m.

Meanwhile, Brenda was busy preparing my discharge paperwork and instructions. Then she came back to the room where I had to sign several forms. One of which said I shouldn't have intercourse until my doctor says it's okay. Darn, I was wanting to get laid tonight. Yeah, right!

I was given two prescriptions. One a pain killer, Oxycontin, that I took as needed. The other was Zoloft, an anti-depressant used for Postpartum Depression. Why would I need this? I'm happy to be getting out of this jailhouse. The Hallorans were kindly going to stop by a local pharmacy so I could drop the prescriptions on the way to Veronica's place.

The big moment had finally arrived. I had spent most of the morning sitting in the recliner. Picking up my purse, yes, my purse with a wallet, comb, and set of house keys inside it, I walked over to Brenda and slowly sat down in the wheelchair. With Joan Halloran tagging along, we left the room.

"Bye, Room."

Marilyn was the last nurse to say good-bye to me. After that we went straight to the hospital's main entrance. David Halloran was already getting the car and would meet us there.

Two minutes later I was seated in the front passenger seat of a Nissan Altima. Bending down, Brenda gave me one last hug.

"Bye, Brenda, thanks for everything."

"You're welcome. Please stop by when you can."

"I will." Brenda then closed the car door and we were on our way.

As we headed out of the parking lot, tears started to form in my eyes. Why? I'm free, why should I be crying? Because the children are still in the hospital? Maybe that was the reason.

After a brief stop at the pharmacy to drop off the prescriptions, we went straight to Veronica's townhouse.

All in all, the drive took less than ten minutes.

Veronica's home was a two-story townhouse with three bedrooms and two and one half bathrooms. The downstairs was the living area, with a kitchen, dining room, small bathroom and living rooms. After David brought in my bags and got me settled in the house they left, but not before I thanked them profusely for their help.

The townhouse was nice, but I felt out of place at the moment. This wasn't my home, it belonged to someone I really hardly knew. It was pleasantly decorated, and of course in a feminine way. There were plants and knick-knacks distributed around the townhouse in ample amounts.

I really wanted to be back at the hospital, but instead I went to the refrigerator to get something to drink. Not surprisingly it was only sparsely stocked, but there was plenty of bottled water inside it. I took one of these and settled down on the living room couch.

Myra Horowitz was supposed to be coming at 2:30 so I could go to the hospital for the 3 and 6 p.m. feedings. The plan being I would stay at the hospital until Veronica got off for the day.

Not knowing what else to do I turned on the television. My timing wasn't bad, Price is Right was just beginning.

But I couldn't concentrate on Price is Right. I wasn't at all interested in the show. Also, I felt out of place at this home. This wasn't where I should be. I should be back at the hospital.

Picking up the phone, I beeped Veronica. I waited fifteen minutes but I got no return call. So I picked up the phone again and asked for information.

*****

John Wilson was just returning from a sad and frustrating morning of running errands. Now he had to spend time with his despondent wife.

The first errand that needed to be done that morning was a visit to the funeral home. There John had to pay for and make arrangements for Chandler's funeral. A short wake would be held Wednesday night and the funeral would be 5 p.m. on Thursday evening.

The Wilsons, after a brief chat, had decided not to have a wake for Chandler. Instead, the morning of the funeral at 9:30 there would be a private open casket showing at the funeral home. Only family members and friends specifically told by the grieving parents would be invited.

John's second stop was at the local cemetery. It was Catholic, and Our Lady Queen of Peace was less than five minutes from the Wilson home. This would allow the couple to visit their son as much as they desired. Even on a daily basis.

The cemetery had proved to be aggravating. Not just because John had to make funeral arrangements for his infant son, but the cemetery started quoting him charges that weren't told to the funeral home. A contract fee, a fee for both opening and closing the grave. All of this hadn't been mentioned to the funeral home. John finally flew off the handle at the woman who represented the cemetery. But John had little recourse, he had to pay and then left for home.

"Peg, I'm home," John said upon entering the house. Peg didn't answer, instead the father's mother came to greet him.

"Mom, how is she?"

"She isn't talking. Just staring at the wall or crying."

After thanking his mother, John walked into the living room. Peg was still seated in the same exact spot on the couch she had been when he left the house two hours earlier. Putting his arm around her, the father asked, "Peg, what can I do for you?"

He got no reply.

*****

Veronica was having a very busy morning in the pediatric oncology unit, so it wasn't till 12:15 that she arrived at the NICU. There she got a welcome surprise.

"Rachel, I thought you went home with the Hallorans!" Veronica said, seeing her friend feeding their daughter Mariel.

"I did, but I got bored," I replied, watching Mariel drinking from the bottle. She had become a real professional at getting fed. "So I caught a taxi and came back."

"Since you got Mariel, I'll take Sarah." Veronica went over to the isolette where the little girl was sleeping at the moment.

Florida was just about to give Veronica the bottle for the girl when the sound of a beeper went off.

"Shit," Veronica said, looking down. "Be right back." The resident went over to the NICU desk and picked up a phone. After a brief phone conversation, Veronica was right back. "I'm sorry, but I've got to go."

"No problem, I just finished Mariel, I can take care of Sarah now," I told her. Veronica said she would try to stop back later.

After giving Mariel back to the nurse, it was now Sarah's turn. Mom Rachel's girl. She always seemed to be content in my arms.

Cradling her in anticipation of starting to feed her, I noticed something. The girl's head was turning in to me, or rather my chest.

"Are you telling me you know Mom has milk? Are you?" I said in baby talk to my little girl. The nurse then handed me the bottle and I gave it to Sarah, who started merrily feeding.

I slowly rocked the baby girl while she took her bottle. It really is amazing. I mean a newborn, that is. A new life, I just have trouble putting it in words. A week ago Sarah was inside me, and not 'real' to me, now she was in my arms.

And the girl liked me holding her. You could tell when taking the girl in your arms, she just released. Released her care to the person she loves. Namely, her mother.

Feeding the girls was causing me to do what I didn't want to do. I was bonding with them. They wanted my care and love, and I was finding myself enjoying what I was doing.

While feeding Sarah, I noticed they were taking Benjamin out of the crib. "Where are you taking him?"

"He is having some tests done," Florida said. "A cat scan, probably routine."

"Oh." All three children had so many tests done since birth that I had lost track. I knew Veronica was keeping up on it, if anything important came up she or the doctors would let me know.

I concentrated on feeding Sarah. Always making sure she took her bottle, that she had no problems with the nipple. That she was really getting the formula. As a guy I thought all you did was stick the bottle in the baby's mouth. Was I ever wrong.

But as I fed Sarah I noticed the girl turning toward my breast. I was still leaking, there had been no time to apply any ice to my mammories before coming to the hospital. Sarah somehow almost instinctively knew I was lactating at the moment.

"It's like she knows my milk came in," I said to the nurse. "Is that normal?"

"Yes, many newborns do it. It's called rooting," Florida replied.

"Sarah would probably be a real pro. Too bad I can't breastfeed these babies."

"Who said you can't? Some triplet mothers do breastfeed."

'Yes, I know that. But I am not planning to raise these babies,' I thought as I looked down at Sarah. For ten weeks I had sacrificed my body to the purpose of giving life to this baby and her brother and sister. I had done so very reluctantly at first, but I chose to make the effort. It was in the best welfare of the three babies inside me.

As I was learning, the female body is really amazing. Until the Shift it had been something to be attracted to, to lust for. Its only purpose being for sexual pleasure.

Now, only after I came to possess a female body, did I truly appreciate what a wonder of creation it was. Whether made by God or evolution, it was truly a miracle of engineering. It not only has the ability to create another life, but to grow it inside and outside the womb. And I was only just now realizing how truly incredible this was.

It took a little over eleven weeks or more importantly the act of giving birth to fully impact these changes on me. I had grown three lives inside my body, no small feat in itself, and then successfully brought them into this world. Before I thought my job was over at birth, I didn't want anything to do with the children afterwards. I had only done this because I found abortion repulsive and as a personal favor to Veronica, who was also an innocent victim of the shift.

Looking down at Sarah in my arms and then looking at my body, I was beginning to reassess what I had done and now began to question if my job wasn't over yet. My breasts and their true purpose. Not as something sexual, but functional. To nurture a newborn child.

And these three babies looked at me as their mother. And rightly so. For thirty-three weeks, the last ten plus of which had been done by me, these human lives depended on the support and nurturing only their mother could give them. A bond had been formed, and this hadn't ended at birth, the bond would continue forever. The responsibilities change as the child ages, but it never ends.

No matter how much I tried to fight it, I felt this bond between mother and child. I was these three children's mother. Yes, Veronica was important to them, but I carried the children inside me and that was different. I had given them life.

Florida spoke up again. "If you want to breastfeed, I can call the lactation consultant to come over to speak with you."

'Do I want to breastfeed? You know what that means if you do. You don't want to be a mother.' I couldn't make up my mind, but looking at little Sarah in my arms, my willpower or stubbornness ebbed and then disappeared.

"Yes, please do that," I told Florida. Then, looking at Sarah who was about finished with her bottle, I added, "I love you, Sarah."

*****

It was a little after 3 p.m. when Veronica's beeper went off. Looking at the number, she immediately realized it was the NICU. Deciding to save time, she just came downstairs immediately.

Once in the NICU and after washing her hands, the medical resident headed toward where her children were when she was intercepted by Dr. Quinones.

"Ms. Schwartz, we need to talk. Did you just get my page?"

"Yes, Doctor," Veronica said. She thought it was Rachel who had paged her, and now her surprise was turning to concern. "Is something wrong with the babies?"

"I think we'd better go to the back and chat."

"Should I get Rachel first?" Veronica asked.

"Perhaps it would be best if we talk first. Then we or you can explain it to Ms. Klein." Veronica then followed Dr. Quinones to the patient chart room.

There Veronica was introduced to one of LPCH's pediatric surgeons, Dr. Richard Rubenstein and a radiologist named David Lewis. Dr. Rubenstein had been brought in for a consultation on Benjamin.

"Benjamin has two problems, first the large intestine," Dr. Rubenstein said, showing the just recently taken cat scan. "The inflammation is almost certainly Necrotizing Enerocolititis. Then there is the heart valve, as you can see, it hasn't fully closed."

Veronica's head was spinning from what the doctor was telling her. Her son Benjamin was seriously ill, and would be needing surgery. 'Oh God, please take care of my child.'

"The boy is also losing weight. This is a result of the intestinal problem," Dr. Rubenstein said. "We could possibly treat that with drugs and surgery may not be necessary, but the heart surgery needs to be done ASAP."

"What if they did both, I mean the heart and intestine?" Veronica asked. Drug therapy for Necrotizing Enerocolititis didn't always work, and the resident didn't relish the chance of her son undergoing major surgery twice.

"If there was nothing else to worry about, I'd say definitely yes," Dr. Quinones said. "But a recent blood workup shows the boy's white count to be elevated."

"You haven't discovered the source of the infection?" Veronica asked. Now she was really beginning to worry.

"No, we haven't. The boy has lost six ounces since birth. If we wait, the boy could get weaker," Dr. Quinones explained.

One of the NICU nurses walked into the room. It was Dolores, she had a message for Dr. Quinones.

"Dolores, is Rachel still here?" Veronica asked before the nurse left the room. The resident knew she would have to talk to the other mother very soon. Veronica was just unsure if Rachel may have gone back to the townhouse.

"Ms. Klein is here. She was breastfeeding one of the children when I saw her five minutes ago." The nurse then left the room.

'Breastfeeding? When did Rachel decide to do that?' Veronica dropped the thought for the moment. There was a more pressing concern.

*****

"She is such a natural," I said to Sonia Michaels, LPCH's lactation consultant. Only five minutes earlier I had taken my infant daughter and opened the dress I was wearing. Sarah didn't have any problem either finding my nipple or latching on to it. Looking down at the little girl, I just felt wonder at what we were doing together. "You really like your mother's milk, don't you?"

'Too bad I'll never be able to do that again,' Sonia Michaels thought. She had shifted with her ten-year-old son. Some mothers still found it odd that the hospital's lactation consultant no longer had the equipment to do it himself.

Checking close-up to make sure the mother was doing it right, Sarah could see the bonding going on between mother and child. In her thirteen years of work at LPCH, she had seen it probably thousands of times. "You're both doing fine."

"I do this for twenty minutes then?" I asked.

"Yes, but if the child stops after fifteen you can allow it."

"What if they want to go longer?"

"You shouldn't, just disengage the baby from your nipple."

"Yes, you don't want to be a fat little piggy, do you?" I said, looking down at Sarah.

*****

"So it is best if the child has the surgery at once," Dr. Rubenstein said. "He will probably only get weaker."

"Who do you recommend?" Veronica asked, trying to stay calm.

"The best at this type of surgery is Dr. Alfred Hess down at UCLA Medical in Los Angeles," replied Dr. Quinones.

The spinning going on in Veronica's mind only accelerated hearing this. How would she and Rachel manage the logistics involved with children in two hospitals 400 miles apart?

"However, two of Dr. Hess' top prodigies are right here in the Bay area. Dr. Helen Sturdivant at UCSF, and Dr. Clara Voss right here at Packard."

"Is there any difference between the two?" Veronica asked.

"Not really, but I'd want to get the child to whomever can do him right away," Dr. Rubenstein said. "I put in a call to Dr. Voss' office for a consult. She is in surgery now, but should be here in about an hour."

"I think we need to inform the child's mother," Dr. Quinones said.

"Yes, but I'd like to do it."

"I'll leave it to you two," Dr. Rubenstein said, getting ready to leave the room. "Page me when Dr. Voss comes in."

After Dr. Rubenstein left the room, Dr. Quinones spoke up. "Veronica, if you need time off I can speak to Dr. Holland for you."

Dr. Robert Holland was the head of Pediatric Oncology. "Thanks. Let's go see Rachel, but maybe it's best if I do the talking."

*****

Mariel had just latched on to her mother's right nipple, when I got a visitor.

"Hey, Mom," Veronica said, bending down to kiss me on the forehead while touching Mariel also. The medical resident then sat in the chair next to me after Sonia Michaels vacated it. "How are you two doing?"

"Great," I said. "Sonia, this is my friend and the children's other mother, Dr. Veronica Schwartz."

The two shook hands. "We've never met, but I have seen you around the hospital."

"Yes, I have too," Veronica said. "I'm a fifth year pediatric oncology resident."

"I fed Sarah already, she's a real pro," I said, looking down at the baby in my arms and carefully making sure she was feeding properly.

"That's great," Veronica replied, then asked Sonia, "How are they doing?"

"Absolutely fine, I was giving Ms. Klein instructions on both how to feed her children and how to maintain her milk supply."

"I have to drink lots of fluids and eat properly."

"That means you want steak every night then," Veronica kidded me.

"No, but I will stay away from Mexican food. Or caffeine products."

"I was surprised by what you are doing."

"I'm surprised, too," I said. "You aren't upset?"

"No, not at all." Veronica smiled back. She had decided to wait until I was done breastfeeding before telling me the news about Benjamin.

"I should have told you before I started. I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about. It's what is best for the babies."

"Yes, it is," I said, watching Mariel. "I really love doing this for them. It's just so incredible, I can't put it in words."

Veronica and I just sat quietly there for a while with me still feeding Mariel. Then I said, "I wish I could start feeding Benjamin, too. How much longer do you think before he is ready?"

Looking straight into Veronica's eyes, I could sense something was wrong. Then she spoke up. "We need to talk about Benjamin."

*****

The phone began to ring in the Wilson household. Since Peg was lying in bed, John answered the phone. "Hello."

"May I speak to Mr. John Wilson?" the caller said.

"This is he."

"My name is Tina Kendall, and I'm returning your call. I work for Share Care at Stanford University."

"Yes. Hello, Ms. Kendall, I called you earlier today," John said.

"How may I help you?"

"I'd like to make an appointment with your program for me and my wife," he said. Peg was still catatonic at times, blaming herself for the death of their son. "Our son Chandler Daniel died last Saturday."

"I am so sorry for your loss. Can you give me a few details?" Tina asked, then listened to John giving a brief summary of the events of the last week. "Do you understand what Share Care is?

"Yes, Ma'am. My wife is really distraught over our son's death. I want to get her some help."

"When would you like to come in?"

"The funeral is Thursday. The beginning of next week if possible."

Tina brought up the schedule for October 23rd. Share Care's counselors were all booked solid. But there were openings on Tuesday the 24th. "How about 2 p.m., Tuesday the 24th?"

"That's fine. Can I get directions? We're in Sunnyvale and I'm familiar with the University, but not where you're located."

A few minutes later John hung up the phone. Going back to the bedroom he found Peg lying on top of the bed wide-awake. Taking a spot in bed directly behind his wife, John wrapped his arms around the grieving mother.

"I love you," he whispered in Peg's ear.

*****

Veronica and I got back to her townhouse around 7:45 that evening. Once inside, I sunk into a living room chair and began to cry.

Dr. Clara Voss came by the NICU at 4:30 that afternoon. The pediatric surgeon, after consulting with the neonatologists and Dr. Rubenstein and then talking with Veronica and myself, had scheduled Benjamin for surgery the next day at 8 a.m. The operation was expected to take at least five hours.

Dr. Rubenstein and Veronica had given me the update on Benjamin's condition at the NICU. But I remained strong, for the most part. Only when I got home did I finally break down and begin to cry.

Veronica kneeled down beside me and wrapped her arms around me. "Benjamin will be fine. He's a fighter."

"Why my boy?" I said, continuing to cry. For some reason I was beginning to feel guilty. Like it was my fault the boy was sick. "Why my boy? Wasn't I a good mother?"

"You are a great Mom," Veronica said, hugging me tight. "What happened isn't your fault."

"I shouldn't have gotten so upset at times," I cried. "Maybe I would have gone longer."

"Thirty-three weeks is incredible. Don't blame yourself," Veronica said, holding me tight as I cried. Her reassurances felt so good but I couldn't stop blaming myself.

"I know. But I just can't stop feeling it's my fault," I said as my tears began to subside.

"Don't think like that. Benjamin's problems are correctable. He's a fighter and he will make it. Our boy couldn't be in a better hospital right now."

I looked deep into Veronica's eyes when she said this. Those dark brown, beautiful eyes. There was no guile in them. She was being totally sincere.

"I already called Rabbi Horowitz. She or her wife will stop by the hospital tomorrow," Veronica said, acting and sounding very strong. "Benjamin will pull through. We will have a whole synagogue praying for him. God will listen."

Veronica continued to hug me tight for a few minutes. Then she spoke up. "Let's eat dinner and then get ready for bed. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day."

We sat down and ate the Chinese take out food we had brought home. After cleaning up, we went upstairs. As I was to discover, my body still had to do a lot of healing. It wasn't easy going up the stairs, even with Veronica's help.

The upstairs wasn't much different from the downstairs. There was a small den/bedroom with a large roll top desk. Veronica had deposited the day's mail there on top of an already large pile.

The second room was the baby room. The main feature of it was a large crib underneath a window. Easily big enough to host three children, there were stuffed animals in it. The room also consisted of a large dresser, changing table and a stowed playpen. Directly across from the baby room was an upstairs bathroom.

The master bedroom was the last room. Here the room was dominated by a large king size bed flanked by two end tables and with two large dressers in the room. There was also a walk-in closet, and attached bathroom. The room was decorated in a very feminine way with pictures, knick-knacks and flower vases spread about.

Once upstairs I began to use the bathroom. This began with a shower, which began with me stripping out of my clothes in front of Veronica. I got the uneasy feeling the woman was very attracted to me.

After the shower I blow-dried my hair while thoroughly combing out any tangles in it. One of the first things I wanted to do when I had time was to get a trim to something much more manageable.

"You don't know how to use makeup, do you?" Veronica asked as I was drying my hair.

"Haven't a clue," I replied. "But I wouldn't use it before bed, right?"

"No, I was just curious."

Veronica helped find me a nightgown and panty for the evening. With my friend still using the bathroom, I settled into bed.

It really felt so odd not being in a hospital bed for the first time in over two months. But I felt kind of out of place in this house. It wasn't my home, it belonged to Veronica and the person I had become. Wherever the real Rachel Klein was, I hoped she was happy.

Veronica had brought the last of my belongings from the hospital upstairs earlier. I still had several hundred pages left of Tom Clancy's latest, so I tried to read. Unfortunately I couldn't concentrate on the story, I kept thinking of Benjamin. Sure enough I began to cry.

*****

Emerging from the bathroom, Veronica saw her friend crying in bed. The mother wanted to cry also, but had been trying to stay strong all day. She had been just too busy to take time for her own emotions.

After putting on a nightgown, Veronica climbed into bed next to a still distraught Rachel. Wrapping her arms tight around the recently discharged hospital patient, Veronica herself finally began to cry, but then composed herself once again.

"I love you," Veronica whispered into Rachel's ear. "Benjamin will be fine. He is a strong boy."

But I wasn't listening to Veronica's soothing words. I couldn't stop crying, thinking of my Benjamin. He was so sick and I loved him. Worst of all I couldn't stop blaming myself. Had I failed as a mother?

Veronica lay next to me with her arms gently wrapped around me for another five to ten minutes. Then disengaging herself from me, my friend got out of bed and went to the den/bedroom across the hall.

'Benjamin, get well for us. Please. Your Mommies love you,' Veronica thought as she sat herself down at the desk chair. Her eyes were filling up with tears, but she didn't want to cry now. There were things Veronica needed to do.

Taking a personal phone book out of the desk, Veronica looked up the first of two numbers. Then after composing herself with the help of a few Kleenex, the medical resident dialed a local number.

"Hello...hello, Jack, it's Veronica Schwartz. Remember me? I'm Rachel's friend. Is Nancy home or is she too busy? I'd like to talk to her."

*****

October 18th began very early for Veronica and I. Rising from bed a little after 4 a.m., we left the townhouse at exactly 5 a.m.

Once back at LPCH we went straight to the NICU. They were just getting ready to take Benjamin down to pre-op. As soon as I saw my boy I began to cry.

"Hang in there, Rachel," Veronica said, wrapping her arm around me. "Dr. Voss is the best. He will be fine."

Veronica's hug felt good, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I had somehow failed. As I continued to weep, I watched the nurses transfer Benjamin to another isolette. One with wheels so they could transport him to pre-op.

"Can I say good-bye before you take him?" I asked the nurse. She said of course. So Veronica and I moved over close to the isolette. Benjamin appeared to be asleep. Reaching out with my right hand I touched my son's forehead.

"I love you, Benjamin," I said while choking back tears. "Get well soon. Please. For your Mommies. We both love you so very much."

I broke down crying again. Veronica held me tight as the nurses began to take Benjamin away. "I want to go with him."

Veronica then spoke up. She looked remarkably strong through this ordeal. "I'll go upstairs with Benjamin. Why don't you do Sarah and Mariel's feeding? When you're done beep me."

I really didn't want to leave my boy. Yes, I had begun thinking of Benjamin as my boy, my son. I loved him and didn't want anything to happen to him. I didn't want him to suffer. "I want to go, too."

"Rachel, I know you want to be with him. Why don't you do Sarah and Mariel's feeding?" Veronica asked. She did have a point, the girls needed me, too. "When you're done, beep me. I promise I'll be with Benjamin the whole time."

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise. I've got to get going." Veronica gave me a quick hug and kiss then hustled to catch up with the nurses. Looking through a nearby window I could see my friend catch up to Benjamin and his caregivers.

Before going back to the girls, I decided to thoroughly wash my hands again. Then I went to the Level III part of the NICU.

The night nurse Rose was attending to Mariel and Sarah. "Good morning, Ms. Klein. How are you?"

"Okay," I replied in a whisper, looking down at Sarah and Mariel. Both were sound asleep and looked like little angels. "Rose, how are they?"

"Doing splendidly," Rose assured me as I looked down at the girls, being careful not to wake them.

"Any problems?"

"No, none at all. They slept through the night except for when they needed to be fed or changed," Rose answered while writing some notes down on a chart.

I stepped away from the isolette to speak to Rose. "You know I began breastfeeding the girls."

"Yes, I do," Rose replied, looking up from the chart. "Give me a few minutes to finish this chart and we'll get ready for the 6 a.m. feeding." I told the nurse that was fine with me. At least I'd stay busy with the girls while Benjamin was being prepared for surgery.

Ten minutes later, and after putting up a screen and closing the blinds for privacy, Rose and I were all set. Sitting down in the rocking chair next to the isolette I waited for Rose to wake up one of the girls and give her to me for their 6 a.m. feeding.

"Here you are," Rose said, handing me Mariel first. With my dress already unbuttoned I put my daughter right up to my nipple. The premature girl latched on immediately and began to suck.

"That's a good girl, Mariel. I love you," I said as I began to slowly rock in the chair while paying close attention to my daughter's feeding. Premature infants need to be monitored, they often take time to learn how to properly suck.

But Mariel was turning into a real pro just like her sister. She was sucking away at my breast and swallowing the milk I was feeding her. All with little or no spitting up. Rose smiled at me while continuing to check up on Sarah. For the moment my worries and fears for Benjamin faded away.

A calm or peace settled over me. I think it did for Mariel, also. She contentedly sucked away on my breast, taking the sustenance I provided so she could live and thrive. And I enjoyed the experience.

What I was only beginning to realize was that I was bonding with both these little girls. I was enjoying what I was doing. Before the shift I was this stockbroker who helped people plan their present and future.

But this act of feeding Mariel and Sarah just didn't compare. I wasn't just helping these babies, but nourishing them and giving them life. It was just indescribable.

After ten minutes I switched Mariel to my other breast. Some day I would try doing two of the children in tandem. One on each breast, but not now. After another five minutes, Mariel disengaged herself from the nipple. Looking contented the girl went right back to sleep. She had done a good job at feeding herself, there was very little spit.

"I love you, Mariel," I said, kissing my daughter and then handing her to Rose. In another minute it was Sarah's turn. The girl was incredibly fussy, like she hated being woken up. That was until she saw what was about to happen. A moment later Sarah was latched on to my left nipple and sucking away.

Twenty minutes later I was finished with Sarah. Giving her back to Rose, reality sunk back in again. How was Benjamin doing?

Veronica and I had discussed a plan for the day on the car ride into the hospital. By now the NICU was getting busy, it was shift change time and I would need to leave. I went right to the NICU's main desk and asked to borrow the phone. Dialing Veronica's pager number, I waited a minute before she phoned back.

"Veronica, I'm ready."

"Take the main elevators to the fourth floor. I'll meet you there," Veronica said and then hung up the phone.

Doing as instructed, I walked out of the elevators on the fourth floor. Veronica was there waiting for me. "How is he doing?"

"Okay, the prep room is this way," Veronica replied, and I followed her down what seemed like an endless corridor.

Good, Veronica was with me. I would have never have found my way on my own because the halls were almost like a maze up on the fourth floor. Also, I was still weak from the C-section and lengthy bedrest. Veronica was there for to lean on when I got wobbly a few times. Eventually we were at the pre-op and Veronica led me inside.

Benjamin was there and being attended to by a blonde haired nurse. "Amy, this is Benjamin's other mother, Rachel Klein."

"Hello," Amy replied.

"It's all right if we both stay?" Veronica asked as I went to touch Benjamin.

"Of course," Amy replied as she was writing something on a chart.

"I love you, Benjamin, I'm here for you," I said with tears filling my eyes. He looked so hopeless. Benjamin was being given an IV and other than a diaper he was totally unclothed. Looking up at the nurse, I asked, "Can I touch him?"

"Yes, you may." I then reached down and touched Benjamin's hand. The boy was asleep but reacted to my touch. He knew I was there with him.

By then it was 7 a.m. and Benjamin's scheduled surgery was only an hour away. For the next thirty minutes Veronica and I sat on either side of Benjamin talking to the premature boy. Either touching him or talking to our son in soft whispers to pass the time before he was taken to the operating room.

During this time I somehow managed not to cry or lose control of my emotions. Not that I didn't want to do this, I felt so horrible in those moments leading up to surgery. It was I just didn't want Benjamin to know his mother was upset.

Instead I occasionally asked Veronica some questions. Always speaking in a soft whisper. "When do they take Benjamin down to the operating room?"

"A little after 7:30," Veronica replied. "They finish prepping him there."

"Will we meet Dr. Voss before the operation?"

Veronica shook her head. "Probably not."

"How long does the operation take?"

"Five to six hours."

That meant sometime in the afternoon. I wasn't planning to leave the hospital until Benjamin got out of surgery. "Could you go inside? I mean watch the operation?"

"I probably could if I asked, but I don't think it's necessary. Dr. Voss is an excellent surgeon, Benjamin couldn't have anyone better."

"You don't have to work today?" I asked. Veronica had probably explained this to me before, but my mind was like Swiss cheese at the moment because of my concern for Benjamin.

"No, I'm off. Dr. Holland offered me all the time I need."

"Oh," I said, watching Benjamin. The boy was sound asleep and looked so contented. I still could hardly believe my son was seriously ill.

The time finally came to bring Benjamin down to surgery. Two nurses took Benjamin out of the pre-op room on a small bed and began wheeling him down the hallway.

With Veronica hugging me I got to kiss and touch my boy one more time. "I love you, Benjamin. Get well for your Mommy, please."

Immediately I broke down crying as Veronica and I watched the nurses push Benjamin to end of the hallway and around the corner.

*****

John Wilson was so angry at the woman he was speaking to on the phone, that the father finally couldn't control his temper anymore.

"Ma'am, that is a total lie and you know it!" John screamed into the phone. "No one, and I mean no one ever from birth certificates visited my wife's room in the time we were in the hospital. You just lied to me!"

"Sir, if you don't stop screaming I will not speak to you," said Margo, an employee at Lucille Packard Children's Hospital who worked in the birth certificate department.

John tried hard to calm down. He was just so outraged and hurt right now. Why did these people do this to him and Peg? They just lost their son Chandler and now the hospital had fucked up on the birth certificate. Worse yet, the hospital had just lied to the father and he could prove it.

"As I said, Ma'am," John said, trying to use a calmer voice, "what you are telling me is a total lie. I am not saying you are lying. Just who ever made up this bull story is. How would you feel if you just lost your child and the hospital starts lying to you?"

All John got for an answer was silence. He knew he was right. 'Why do I have to fight like this at this time? Peg needs me now and instead I have to fight with these assholes.'

Peg Wilson's condition hadn't changed much in the last day. The mother was still grieving for Chandler and blaming herself for what happened. When she wasn't crying her eyes out, Peg was usually catatonic and almost uncommunicative even with her husband John.

This morning John managed to get Peg out of bed for breakfast but it proved to be an ordeal. The mother barely touched her food and rarely spoke. Instead Peg just stared at the wall. At the moment Mrs. Wilson was back in bed while John dealt with LPCH.

The brouhaha was a result of Peg and John Wilson needing a birth certificate for their son Chandler. This is an important document that serves multiple purposes. For tax purposes the parents would need one to take their son on a tax return. Better yet, get Chandler a Social Security card. This is usually done while the mother is still in the hospital.

Being new parents and too consumed in their grief, neither John or Peg asked about the birth certificate while Peg was in the hospital. Only once he was home did John Wilson look into the matter. What he discovered was a very big headache.

California state law requires the birth certificate be filed for no later than three days after a child is born. LPCH did this but without putting Chandler's name on the certificate. The reason given to John Wilson was that he and Peg hadn't chosen a name for their son and they didn't want visitors at the hospital.

John had been told this by Margo, and he immediately went into a fury. He was being lied to and could prove it.

"Ma'am, you tell me this Filomena or Fiomena or whatever her name is said we hadn't picked a name. That's a lie. The nurses, Brenda, Sue, Tammy can all tell you to the contrary. We never turned a visitor away from our room, either. Two social workers, Diana and a man I forget his name, even visited us."

More silence on the phone.

John kept going. "Plus, you can talk to the NICU. Dr. Stiles, Jackie, Dolores, Rose. They all knew Chandler's name. On his bed there was this tag or sign. Said it's a boy. On it is the name Chandler Daniel, Rose wrote it on the Friday night he was born. What do you say to that? I've been lied to, and you've also been lied to."

"Sir, I am only repeating what I've been told by Fiomena."

"What you've been told is a lie, and you should be angry you've been lied to," John said. Right then Peg came out of the bedroom. Still looking unwell, the mother sat herself down in the living room loveseat as her husband paced the house while talking on the phone.

Putting his hand over the phone and walking over to Peg, John whispered, "I love you."

"Love you, too," Peg replied meekly.

"Do you want anything right now?"

Peg shook her head. "No."

Most of what Margo was saying to John on the phone was going in one ear and out the other, the father's anger overriding his senses. "Sir, I am very sorry for you and your wife's loss."

"Thank you," John said looking at Peg. She didn't look much better than the mother had at breakfast time. "But now what do we do?"

"It is out of the hospital's hands. You will have to contact the State of California..." Margo began explaining.

"I shouldn't have to. This is absolutely ridiculous with me having to care for my wife right now. She has been beside herself since Chandler died."

"Sir, if I were you I'd be seeing to my wife right now and grieving for my son."

This statement got John ticked off again. "Don't tell me how to grieve, you have no business telling me."

"Sir, I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you again. But what are we to do now?" John asked. Looking at Peg, she was sitting on the couch watching her husband as he talked on the phone. The father walked over to her and held the grieving mother's hand for a few seconds.

"As I began to tell you, that is just plain unacceptable," John said, raising his voice again. "Let me talk to this Fiomena."

"I won't do that, sir. And don't start yelling at me again or I will hang up."

"I'll just come down to Packard and see her myself. She should have told me these lies to my face!"

"I won't let you embarrass an employee like that, sir," Margo replied. Her nonchalant attitude was irritating John Wilson more than ever.

"Why?!" John yelled. "The idiot is lying and is putting me and my wife through more hell, and you're defending her!"

That was the last straw for Margo. "Sir, I've been very reasonable. I've tried to help you with your problem but I won't be yelled at. If you can't control your temper there is no use talking to you."

The next thing John Wilson heard was the phone being disconnected. 'What do I do now?'

John's thought process was interrupted when Peg spoke up. "John, what happened?"

The grieving father gave his wife a rundown of what he had just learned from the hospital. John was still outraged at what had been done, but he stayed calm while telling Peg who listened carefully but didn't interrupt. "They fouled up Chandler's birth certificate and I just can't believe they would do this to us."

Peg motioned for John to sit down on the couch next to her. He did, in addition to wrapping his arm around Peg. "John, I feel bad for what they did, too. I just wish you don't get so angry."

"I'm sorry," John replied, hugging Peg tight. Then something clicked in his head. It was something Margo said earlier. That Packard and Fiomena had been very busy the previous weekend with like twenty babies being born. This sounded to John like the birth certificate department forgot the couple instead of making them a priority.

John also remembered the social worker named Diana who visited. She had said if the Wilsons needed anything, to call. "Maybe I will call Diana about this."

Peg nodded before speaking. "Could you make me some breakfast?"

"Of course," John smiled at Peg. He would always do anything for her. "What would you like?"

"Scrambled eggs and some toast, please."

A few minutes later the couple were in the kitchen. While John literally scrambled to prepare his wife's breakfast, Peg sat at the kitchen table glancing at the morning newspaper. It was uncertain if she was really reading the paper.

"There you are," John said after about five minutes. "Two scrambled eggs with toast covered in butter and grape jam."

"Thank you," Peg replied, giving a slight glimpse of a smile as John readied the dish for her. A moment later the mother was enjoying her husband's cooking.

While Peg ate, John made small talk with her, mostly asking about how his wife felt. Peg said okay, she didn't have any pain right then.

Having finished the toast and maybe three quarters of the eggs, Peg pushed the plate to John. "I'm full."

John was delighted to see Peg have some appetite. She had so little since Chandler died. After finishing the few scraps that were left, John took the plate to the kitchen sink and cleaned up after the brief meal.

When all was done the couple went back to the love seat and sat down. With Peg resting her head on his shoulder, John wrapped his right arm around his wife. The couple just sat there, neither talking or crying. Just silently trying to console one another.

Both John and Peg may have been surprised to know that the other was having the same thoughts as the other. What were they thinking?

Would both John and Peg both ever get over Chandler's death?

*****

I was in the middle of doing Sarah's noontime feeding when NICU nurse Kathleen came around the screen to ask me a question.

"Ms. Klein, there is someone named Nancy asking for you. Is it all right for her to come back?"

I said of course, and a minute later Nancy joined me, taking a chair and pulling it up beside me. "How are you doing?"

"Physically I'm fine," I replied as I watched Sarah carefully at my breast. "Did you hear about Benjamin?"

"Yes, Veronica called last night and told me and Jack what was going on. All of you are in our prayers."

"Thank you. I appreciate it very much."

"You're welcome," Nancy replied, looking at Sarah. "She is absolutely adorable."

"She is," I said proudly.

"Can I go look?" Nancy asked, gesturing toward Mariel. I nodded and my friend got up and walked over to the isolette.

It was hard concentrating on Sarah's feeding due to what was going on with Benjamin at that exact moment, but I was trying. I'd have probably gone nuts with worry if not for my being preoccupied.

"She's beautiful, too," Nancy said, touching Mariel. "Are they identicals?"

"Don't know yet. We're having the test done and will find out soon."

"Oh, I see," Veronica replied before resuming her seat next to me. "Where is Veronica right now?"

"She's checking on a few of her patients upstairs. She's really off today, but wanted to do this," I explained. "She'll be back down soon for lunch. Where is Jack right now?"

"Home with the kids. That reminds me, Jack wants to cook you and Veronica another meal. What would you like?"

I felt overwhelmed by my friend's generosity. Nancy and her husband Jack really did too much for me. "You don't have to. Jack and you have done too much already."

"No we haven't, and what're friends for? So what do you want?"

'Nancy, you really give me a tough choice,' I thought. "Whatever is most convenient or easier to do. Just remember, no cheese and meat together. Veronica is Jewish."

"Will do. I guess Benjamin is still in surgery?"

"Yes, he is. The operation will last five to six hours, they expect." If not for Sarah right then, I would have broke down crying.

I think Nancy could feel my sadness or worry, so she changed subjects. "I was surprised to see you doing this."

"You mean breastfeeding?" I asked, and Nancy nodded. "I am, too. But the girls need it. And the funny thing is, I like and enjoy doing it."

"They do, and so will Benjamin when he is well," Nancy remarked. "I guess you and Veronica will get together then."

"I don't know," I said, being honest. By my starting breastfeeding I knew I was committing myself to a bigger role in the children's lives than I had planned. But I didn't know about long-term yet. To be honest, I was terribly confused at the time. I loved the babies so much and wanted to care for them now, but I didn't know if I wanted to raise them. "I'm still thinking about lots of things."

"That's understandable."

"Are you planning to breastfeed?"

"Yes, I will. Jack breastfed our first three for the first eight or nine months." Then Nancy smiled. "But you're going to be feeding three at once. You're a supermom, really."

"Thanks." I continued to chat while feeding Sarah. About a minute later Sarah was finished being fed and I just rocked the child while holding her in my arms.

It was then that Veronica showed up. "Hi, Nancy. How are you today?"

"Good."

"Any news on Benjamin?" I asked.

"Not yet. Want to go to lunch in the cafeteria now?" Veronica asked. "Nancy, you're invited to come along."

So after putting Sarah back in the bed, the three of us set off for the cafeteria. We had just gotten to the elevators when I began to feel wobbly.

"Rachel, are you all right?" Veronica asked.

"Yes," I replied, but it wasn't a totally honest answer. At the moment I was in some pain from recent surgery and feeling very tired. I was in bad need of a rest, but I didn't want to leave the hospital until we got news on Benjamin. "But you'd better get me a wheelchair."

Veronica left to find a wheelchair while Nancy stayed with me. I leaned against the wall for support.

"Rachel, you need to take care of yourself, don't forget."

"I know, but I can't leave now."

"I understand, Rachel, but make sure to take of yourself, too. Those babies need their Mom healthy and well."

Nancy was right. I was probably pushing myself too hard and too fast. Then Veronica arrived with my chariot. After getting aboard, my friend continued pushing me to the elevators.

Down in the cafeteria I had a salad for lunch while talking with Nancy and Veronica. Removed from the children, my worries and fears about Benjamin resurfaced again. I started crying in the middle of lunch.

After lunch we all went back upstairs. Veronica went to check on Benjamin and her patients while Nancy stayed with me. After checking on Mariel and Sarah briefly, the two of us went to a nearby room.

My job of breastfeeding the babies would be more complicated until the children got out of the hospital. I would need to breastpump milk for use when I wasn't available and to store.

In the privacy of this women only room, I took out the pump I brought with me and started pumping as I and Nancy continued to talk.

"How are you feeling?" I asked Nancy. My friend was due January 3, 2001.

"All right. You are really inspiring me."

"Don't act like that. I'm just doing a job."

"But you're doing it well, and you like it."

"I'm trying my best. These babies need me right now."

"Yes, they do. I know you said you would never do it, but have you thought about raising them?"

"No, I haven't. They are Veronica's children, I will help out, be like an Aunt to them and visit and see them. But I don't plan on doing this long-term."

"You know Veronica likes you?"

I wasn't totally sold on this. Sometimes I felt Veronica had feelings for me, sometimes I thought it was just her repaying me for enduring those almost eleven weeks on pregnancy bedrest. As to my own feelings, I was ambivalent. I liked Veronica but she was a mom to three children. "Yes, but I'm not sure."

Nancy looked at me like she didn't buy it. I just avoided my friend's inquiries and concentrated on my breast pump.

It was 2:40 when my cellphone began ringing. Since I was busy, Nancy answered it. "Hello."

"Nancy, it's Veronica. Is Rachel busy?"

"Hold on." Nancy then handed me the phone.

"Yes, Veronica. Is it about Benjamin?"

"They're almost done. Benjamin should be out very shortly. Come upstairs right now."

I did exactly that. After giving the breastmilk that I pumped to the NICU for storage, I went straight upstairs. Nancy came for moral support.

The fourth floor maze was difficult without Veronica, and Nancy and I were having difficulty finding post-op. But Veronica found us first. "Benjamin is out of surgery. The post-op is this way."

I badgered Veronica with questions as we headed down the hallways. At the same time I began getting wobbly again. Not from fatigue or my ongoing recovery, but from fear. I was overwhelmed with the plight of my boy.

When we got to the post-op, Veronica stepped aside. "I don't think Benjamin is allowed visitors yet."

"I want to see him."

"Rachel, you will. I'm going inside to get Dr. Voss, she'll explain how Benjamin is doing." Then my friend and Benjamin's other mother went inside the room. Nancy stayed outside with me.

A few minutes later Veronica and a woman about thirty years old came out of the room. It was Dr. Voss.

"Miss Klein, the operation on Benjamin for the most part went well. We repaired the heart valve and there appears to be no long-term damage."

"But the intestines?"

Dr. Voss' expression changed slightly. "We found a gap in your son's large intestine. It wasn't fully developed and we needed to correct this."

My knees were knocking at this point. Veronica was alongside me and I was clutching her hand very tightly. "Is my son going to be all right?"

"We think so. But Benjamin will need at least one more operation. I fixed your son's large intestine temporarily. Your son is still weak and I didn't want to hazard a lengthy operation at this time."

"But he's going to be all right?"

"I believe so. He's a strong boy and took the operation. His prognosis looks good."

"Can I see him now?" I asked, trying to stay calm.

"Not right now, the nurses are with him. A nurse will come when it's all right to see him."

Dr. Voss then excused herself and went back into post-op. Right away I began to cry again. With Veronica and Nancy each taking my hands, they led me to a visitor waiting area.

"Rachel," said Veronica, sitting beside me. I was surprised how strong she was. Maybe she was keeping her emotions inside herself. "Benjamin will be fine. He took the operation well."

"I know. I know," I kept repeating through a torrent of tears. Nancy was holding my right hand.

"I'd like you to go home with Nancy. There is no sense in staying here any longer today and you need to rest."

"I can't," I said, having stopped crying for the moment. "Mariel and Sarah need to be fed, and I want to see Benjamin."

Veronica looked at Nancy. The expectant mother spoke up. "I can stay another hour and take Rachel home for you."

"I don't want to go." Right then I felt like not leaving the hospital until all three children came home. They were at least for the time being, the center of my life. If one of them suffered, I suffered. Despite all my resentment and protestations of being just a baby incubator, I was getting drawn into motherhood whether I wanted to or not.

Veronica thought for a few moments as she looked me in the eyes. "Okay, go ahead and do Sarah and Mariel's feeding. I'll see if I can get you in for a brief visit with Benjamin after you're done. Then you need to go home for a rest."

"Okay."

*****

The Wilsons had gotten guests just after 2 p.m. They were Brian and Lisa Palmer, or Peg Wilson's older sister and her husband.

Brian and Lisa like John and Peg had swapped with each other at the time of the Shift. Their presence or visit appeared to be a tonic for the grieving mother. Peg freely talked to them about had happened to Chandler.

After a suggestion from Peg to her husband, to make some coffee for their guests, John went to the kitchen. Brian followed him.

"How is she doing?" Brian asked.

John waved his fingers back and forth. "So so. Today Peg has been a little better."

"I'm so sorry about Chandler."

"Thanks," John replied, turning the kitchen coffee pot on.

"So they think sepsis killed Chandler."

"Yes, that's what Dr. Sanchez and Dr. Stiles said."

"Did they perform an autopsy?"

John Wilson shook his head. "No. Peg didn't want one done."

"I can only imagine what the two of you are going through now."

John peeked out into the living room to see how Peg was doing. At the moment she and Lisa were sharing a hug. Then the father turned back toward John. "I'm really concerned for Peg right now."

"I don't blame you."

"She blames herself for what happened," John replied. "That's why I want to get her into some counseling or therapy as soon as possible."

"Does Peg want to go?

"I've mentioned it, but Peg hasn't really talked about it. We have an appointment for next Tuesday at Stanford."

"Oh," Brian replied. The coffee was finally ready. "Anything I can do to help?"

"The sugar and coffee creamer are on top of the mini freezer. Could you get them please?"

It wasn't for another two minutes before everything was set to be brought out to the living room. Four cups of coffee, sugar, creamer and some cookies were all placed on a tray that John Wilson then carried out to the living room and placed on a coffee table.

As John was about to pass a coffee cup to his wife, Peg spoke up. "John, did you hear the great news?"

John looked his wife in the face as he gave Peg her cup of coffee. Something apparently had pepped up his wife out of her doldrums. At least for the moment. "No, I haven't."

"Lisa is going to have a baby," Peg said, holding her sister-in-law's hand and looking very happy for the new parents. John immediately congratulated the new mother.

"How are you feeling?" John asked Lisa. "We're very happy for both of you."

"Okay so far," Lisa smiled.

John in the meanwhile went to shake Brian's hand and exchange a manly hug. "Congrats, Pop."

"Thanks. We're very excited." After the hug and handshake was over, John went back to giving everyone their coffee.

"Yes, we are," Lisa said a little nervously. "Nervous, scared and happy, too."

"You'll be fine," Peg said, patting Lisa's hand.

"I know. Just never thought before I'd be the one having the baby."

"It's not as bad as you think," Peg said, trying to reassure her sister-in-law.

"When did you find out?" John asked. "When is the baby due?"

"Lisa did an HPT two nights ago. It was positive," Brian explained.

"I'm not sure of my due date," Lisa said, speaking up.

"June 20th," John answered, making a stab at a potential date.

"I'm not even sure when my period was last month."

"I am," Brian said with a slight chuckle. "I remember it very well."

"Any morning sickness yet?" John asked.

"No, none," Lisa replied. "We'd like both of you to be the baby's godparents."

"We'd be honored to," Peg replied.

"Amen to that," John replied. Then he watched as a cloud came over his wife's face. The father knew what would happen next.

"I miss Chandler," Peg said, beginning to cry again. "Why did my boy have to die?"

Lisa immediately wrapped her arm around Peg as the mother continued to cry. "Chandler was sick, so God made him an angel. He isn't suffering anymore."

"It was my fault. I wasn't a good mother," Peg said, continuing to cry.

John kneeled down so he could grasp his wife's left hand. "Peg, you are a good mother. Don't blame yourself. Chandler was sick, that is why he died."

Peg continued to cry as her family tried consoling her. The mother couldn't shake the belief she was responsible for her son dying.

John knew this. He also knew he needed to get Peg help.

*****

"Can we see Benjamin now?" I asked Veronica. We were standing outside the Post-op room on the fourth floor. I had just returned from breastfeeding Mariel and Sarah. Nancy was still with me.

"I think so. Let me go and check." Veronica excused herself and went inside the room. It seemed like forever before my friend returned. "Yes, we can go in now. But only for ten minutes."

Nancy spoke up now. "I have to get going. I'll be back tomorrow. Don't forget, we're all praying for you and the babies." She immediately gave me a badly needed hug.

"You don't have to come," I replied.

"I do." Then Nancy smiled. "I've got to bring you the food I promised." Nancy then said good-bye to us and Veronica and I entered the room.

Benjamin's bed was about halfway down the long room on the right side. The first thing I noticed was all the wires and tubes either connected or inserted in my boy.

A respirator was being used to help Benjamin to breathe. He was also almost entirely covered in what looked liked surgical bandages and tape. Only his head was uncovered.

Tears began to form in my eyes, but I didn't want to cry. I didn't want Benjamin to see me crying. So I tried to be strong. "Benjamin, it's me, Mommy. I love you."

I started to reach out with my right hand to touch Benjamin. Veronica spoke then to a nearby nurse. "Can we touch him?"

The nurse nodded. So I touched Benjamin's head softly, continuing to tell him that I loved him. Veronica standing beside me was also whispering to her son.

I spent ten minutes inside with Benjamin. Veronica stayed there beside me except for a brief time when she had to answer her beeper. When we left the post-op I felt totally drained both physically and emotionally.

That's when I met my second surprise visitor of the day. It was Stephanie, and she immediately gave both of us a hug and kiss. "Hi, Veronica, Rachel. How is Benjamin?"

"Fair," I replied as I started crying again. Veronica wrapped her arm around me as she gave Stephanie the report we received from Dr. Voss.

"That's terrible he has to go through this," Stephanie remarked.

"He's in good hands," Veronica replied while still hugging me. "Steph, can you take Rachel back to my home?"

"Sure."

"I don't really want to go home," I said as my tears were slowing. Actually, what I said was about half true. Emotionally I didn't want to leave Benjamin, but physically I was exhausted and in need of a rest.

"Rachel, you need to go home and take a rest," Veronica said. "For you and the children's sake. They need you well."

Five minutes later, and after Veronica gave Stephanie some last minute instructions, I was in my friend's car for the short ride to Veronica's home. Once home I went in the bedroom and almost immediately fell asleep on the bed.

*****

"Thanks, Lisa, Brian for coming," said John Wilson, letting out his sister-in-law and her husband. The couple had stayed for dinner. "You were a big help today."

"Anytime, John. If you need us, don't hesitate to call," said Lisa.

"I will," John replied, then Brian gave him a friendly pat on the back before walking off with his wife. "Drive safely."

After closing and locking the front door, John went back to the living room. There Peg was aimlessly flip-flopping television channels with a remote control.

John bent down and kissed his wife. "Anything I can get you?"

"Do we have any more of those chocolates?"

John at some other time may have advised Peg to watch her figure, but not now. Instead he grinned. "I'm afraid someone ate them all. Would some Rocky Road ice cream be acceptable?"

"Yes, please."

"Two Rocky Roads on the way." John then set off for the kitchen. In less than five minutes the father was back with ice cream for he and his wife. Peg thanked John, and the couple sat side by side on the love seat as they enjoyed their dessert.

"Did you call everyone about tomorrow's wake?"

"Yes, all but the Lanes are coming. John has been under the weather lately according to Lauren. They will be at the funeral, however."

"That's good. Did you talk to Roman?" Peg asked. Roman Kirlowski was choir director of St. Martin Catholic Church's choir. St. Martin would be the church for Chandler Wilson's funeral. John or rather Peg Wilson before the shift had at one time been a member of the choir at St. Martin.

"Yes, he knows the music we want tomorrow. There was no problem."

"Good," Peg said, continuing to eat her ice cream. Soon the couple was finished with their ice cream. Taking the two empty bowls, John returned them to the kitchen where he placed them in the dishwasher.

"One other thing, Packard called back when you were talking to Lisa this afternoon. They're getting the mess straightened out about Chandler's birth certificate."

"They did?" Peg asked, showing no emotion.

"I was told where I can pick it up. It will be available Monday, I'll take care of it one day after work," John explained while Peg quietly listened.

John wasn't fooled by his wife's sudden serenity. He was sure Peg would have many mood swings in the days ahead. They both needed help, counseling to deal with Chandler's death. It would be a long road before they could recover from it. If they ever did.

John wasn't particularly surprised when he returned to the living room to find Peg with her head in her hands while crying her eyes out. The bereaved father sat next to his wife and wrapped his right arm around her. Time, love and patience were what Peg needed now. John would see she got those.

"I love you."

*****

I went back to LPCH with Veronica at 8 p.m. that Wednesday night after spending over three hours at my temporary home. As soon as Stephanie got me home, I collapsed in the upstairs bedroom. It would be almost two hours before I woke up.

While I slept, Stephanie prepared dinner for both of us plus Veronica who came home after her shift ended at 7 p.m. The meal consisted of baked chicken, rice and a tossed salad. Nothing fancy, but delicious.

"Can we go back to see Benjamin tonight?"

"Absolutely. You can feed Sarah and Mariel too, if you want."

"I want to, I've been breast-pumping to store milk for them. I want to see them."

"You will," Veronica smiled at me while patting my hand. "Mariel and Sarah will want to see you, too."

"How long do you think before they will come home?"

Veronica was also excited for the girls to come home. The gap between my discharge and Sarah and Mariel's release had a few benefits. I would have time to recover from the c section plus the house could be prepared. "As long as neither shows any complications, and right now Sarah and Mariel are doing great, they should be home in two to three weeks."

"They just have breath and feed issues then?"

"Yes, that's what it looks like."

A little after 8 p.m. Veronica and I set back off for LPCH. At the same time Stephanie said she and Adrian would stay in touch. Once we were parked in the doctor's parking lot, Veronica and I headed straight to the SICU.

Benjamin hadn't changed much since we last saw him. He was still intubated and wrapped in bandages or cloth that only allowed his head, part of his legs, hands and feet uncovered. The boy had two tubes or I.V. and one monitor hooked to him.

Seeing Benjamin like this was overwhelming. I would have done anything to take away the pain he must have been suffering then. I'd gladly suffer it myself. I loved Benjamin.

"Can I touch him?" Veronica nodded. So I reached down and touched Benjamin's tiny hand. "I love you. Get well for your Mommies."

Benjamin's hand moved. I knew he could hear Veronica and I talking to him. He knew his mothers were there.

We were limited to fifteen minutes inside the SICU with Benjamin. When the time was up, Veronica and I went downstairs to the NICU. I was going to do the girls 9 p.m. feeding.

At the 9 p.m. breastfeeding we tried something different. Using a nearby table for support, I tandem fed the girls one on each breast. This cut the time needed for their feedings by half.

By 9:30 Veronica and I were finished with Mariel and Sarah and ready to leave LPCH. Since the NICU is near the antepartum unit, we had to pass by it on the way out of the hospital. Veronica and I were intercepted by Aida. She immediately gave me a hug.

"We all heard about Benjamin," Aida said to me. Jolly Sue and Heather came by to give me a hug, also. "We're all praying for him."

"Thank you, I appreciate it," I said with tears forming in my eyes. The nurses at LPCH had been so wonderful to me. I'd never forget their kindness.

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to call," Jolly Sue said.

"Thanks."

A few minutes later Veronica and I were in the car and on the way home. I felt totally exhausted and was looking forward to a shower and then some shuteye.

"You have to work tomorrow?"

"Seven to Seven. Dr. Holland offered me the day off, but I said I'd take some time when the children are released from the hospital."

"That sounds like a good idea."

We were home before ten p.m. First thing I did was take a shower. After drying myself off, I collapsed into bed that night.

*****

Thursday, October 19th

Dear Diary,

So much has happened in the last two days I don't know where to start.

I was discharged Tuesday morning around 10:30 a.m. The Hallorans took me to Veronica's home. I didn't stay home very long, I summoned a taxicab back to the hospital almost right away.

How am I feeling? Physically I'm okay. I tire very easy, my incision hurts, but isn't all that bad unless I spend a lot of time walking or standing.

Next Monday I see Dr. Crowe in her office. After giving birth a mother has two post-partum OB appointments. After Monday I should be able to drive again.

Sarah and Mariel continue to do well. No complications, no setbacks. If all continues like it is they could be home in a month.

I wish the news with Benjamin was as good. My boy had heart and intestinal surgery yesterday. His heart valve had to be fixed and his large intestine has a gap in it. The surgery went well and Benjamin is stable. However he is facing one more operation for fixing the intestine.

You don't know how much Benjamin's struggle is tearing at me. I feel responsible, that I didn't do my job as the babies' mother. Mostly out of my stupidity and hard-headedness. Veronica and the staff at LPCH say it isn't true, that thirty-three weeks was excellent for triplets. But I have a hard-time not feeling guilty or responsible.

How am I dealing with this? Crying like a female. Can you believe it? The person who swore she was just a baby incubator a few months ago. Falling in love with these three children and thinking of herself as their mother.

A few of the nurses at LPCH used to tell me that childbirth would change me forever. Now I know they were right. I brought these three lives into the world and I can't help but feel responsible for them. Right now I'm just terribly confused about the future. I never wanted to be a mother and now I'm acting like one.

To top it all of on Tuesday I started breastfeeding Sarah and Mariel. Take a few moments to gather that all in before getting up off the floor.

How and why did this start? It all started when I noticed Sarah trying to engage with my nipple on Tuesday at her noontime feeding. My milk had come in, and my little girl knew it. She wanted it. I love this little girl so much, I just couldn't refuse her. By the way, it's an odd experience having someone feeding off you, but enjoyable. My body is feeding the girls and the girls just supply me with unquestioning love. Newborns hardly do anything more than feed, sleep and make dirty diapers. It's just something I feel when I'm near Sarah, Mariel and Benjamin.

Since the 3 p.m. feeding on Tuesday I've been breastfeeding both girls. Mariel and Sarah caught on immediately, they are real pros. I'm also becoming a professional at feeding them. So both girls get breast milk when I'm not at the hospital, I am now constantly pumping and storing milk. Newborns usually take three ounces of milk every three hours.

Breastfeeding triplets is demanding but not impossible. The lactation consultant at LPCH was very helpful. I need to watch my diet and drink lots of liquids. No caffeine or alcohol for me for the breastfeeding duration. How long will this last? Until my milk runs out or six months to a year. This means I will be in the children's lives for the short-term at least.

What does Veronica think of all this? Until the news on Benjamin she was bemused in addition to being supportive. With our boy sick, yes, our boy Benjamin sick, Veronica needs my help more than ever.

What have I gotten myself into? Are you asking that? I have asked myself that more than a few times of late. I've fallen in love with these three babies and I want to help them on the path of life.

I am still not sure what I want to do in the long-term. Occasionally I wonder if I have lost my mind in the last few days. I do certainly love the children. I'm gravely concerned for Benjamin and his struggle. Do I want to raise them as their mother for life? I think I'm still trying to just cope with all the changes in my life in the last few months. There is more than me to think about now.

Before leaving I've got to mention Adrian, Stephanie and Nancy. All have been wonderful to me in the last few days. They know what is going on with Benjamin and have all come to LPCH to support Veronica and I. I will be forever grateful to them.

I've got a ton of email to respond to. My heart isn't in it now, but I guess I will get to it this weekend.

I'll be off to the hospital shortly. Bye.

*****

Sarah's Noon breastfeeding had just ended, and I was about to begin with Mariel when NICU nurse Florida stuck her head around the curtain. "Ms. Klein, you have a visitor. Her name is Diana Timlin. She was wanting..."

I was surprised by my visitor and a bit exhausted from all that was going on then, but I told Florida to allow Diana back.

"Hey, Rachel," Diana from TC said as she approached me. "May I also say congratulations. Mind if I sit down and we chat a bit?"

"No, not at all, and thank you. How have you been? How are the girls and your husband?" I asked. Mariel had already attached herself to my nipple and was happily sucking away.

"They're all good," Diana said, looking down at Mariel. "She's adorable. Is this Mariel or Sarah?"

"Mariel, Sarah is in the isolette."

"Mind if I take a look?" Diana asked, and I said of course.

While my friend was checking on Sarah, Veronica walked in. She came right over and kissed me. "How are you and the girls doing?"

"I'm okay. Both Sarah and Mariel are getting to be real pros at this," I answered as I looked down at the little girl I was holding in my arms. Was I beginning to think of Mariel and Sarah as my daughters?

Veronica smiled. "Yes, they do, and it looks like you are, too."

Triplet Mama brain most have been in high gear then. I had been very impolite to my two friends. "Veronica, this is my friend Diana from Triplet Connection. Diana, this is Veronica, the children's other mother. She is also a doctor here at Packard."

Diana had finished checking out Sarah and now turned around to meet Veronica. "Nice to meet you, I heard so much about you."

While this was going on, I watched Mariel as she sucked away. She was showing no sign of dribbling, so the newborn was feeding well. I still had some questions for the lactation consultant, and I figured I'd talk to her in the next few days.

"How is Benjamin?" I asked Veronica.

"The same," Veronica replied. "I just checked on him before coming down here."

Diana then spoke up. Her facial expression changing from earlier, now she looked thoughtful or concerned. "I was about to ask, where is your son?"

Veronica spoke up first. "I've got to get back to work. Rachel, don't forget to go home and get some rest. The children need you healthy."

"I will, Veronica," I told my friend who gave me one more kiss. That day had begun early with me arriving at LPCH at 6 a.m. and I had yet to leave. In that time I had been alternating my time being spent either with Benjamin or the girls. I had done Mariel and Sarah's 6 a.m., 9 a.m. and 12 Noon feedings. "After I'm done here I'll go back home and take a rest."

"Good, I've got to go. Talk to you later. Nice meeting you, Diana."

A few moments after Veronica left, Diana spoke up again. "Benjamin isn't here, I see. Want to talk about it?"

"Benjamin is very sick," I said as I tried checking back tears. Sarah's feeding was still in progress and I needed to concentrate on this very important job. "He was operated on yesterday."

Diana sat down in the other rocking chair by the isolette. "I'm sorry, Rachel. What do the doctors say?"

While I continued feeding Sarah, I gave Diana an update on what had been happening with Benjamin. My fellow triplet mother mostly remained silent, but asked questions along the way.

"Benjamin will still need another operation. Every time I see him since the operation I can barely avoid crying."

"That's all right, Rachel," Diana said sympathetically. "I can only imagine what you're going through."

"I feel I failed as a mother."

"No, you didn't. Don't let guilt take you over."

I didn't say anything for a couple of minutes. Meanwhile Sarah's feeding had ended. Summoning NICU nurse Florida, I then returned the newborn girl to her position in the isolette next to her sister.

After that was done, I picked up my purse and opened it. Among the things inside it were a small package of Kleenex. I took a few of these to wipe my eyes and face.

"I'm going back to Veronica's," I explained to Diana. "Going to take a rest and come back later."

"Good idea, you need to rest, too," Diana said as she stood up. "Rachel, could I suggest something to you?"

"Absolutely," I answered as I disposed of the Kleenex in a nearby trash can. Then I re-closed my purse.

"You remember the HOM Moms group I recommended to you before?"

I did remember the mailing list Diana had told me about at our first meeting. At the time I had seen myself ending my parental responsibilities as soon as I gave birth. Boy, had things changed just a tad in six or so weeks since then. "Yes, I do."

"I was just thinking you could use some support now. There are about twenty-five Moms on that list. All with similar due dates, some if not many of them have given birth already," Diana explained. "I don't really know. It's that I just know Paula who runs the list. Right now I thought you may be interested or could use the help."

Standing there I contemplated what Diana was telling me. I saw a few obvious problems. "It won't matter that I used to be a man?"

Diana shook her head. "Not at all. I recall Paula once saying a few former men were on the list. If I remember right, they swapped with their wives. We have a few Moms like that on my list, too."

"I'm helping Veronica out right now, my plan is still to let her raise the children." This was my second possible problem with me being subbed to the mailing list. Though I was beginning to admit I could be involved with Mariel, Sarah and Benjamin for a year or more by now.

Again Diana shook her head. "That wouldn't be a problem. I see you breastfeeding the girls so I guess you plan to care for them for a least a while. Am I right?"

"Yes," I paused for a moment as I thought. "Diana, could you email me the information you sent me before about the list and who to contact?"

"Absolutely, Rachel, I'll do it as soon as I get home. You're still using that AOL address?"

"Yes, I am."

"Okay," Diana said, and then came over and gave me a hug. "I'll be praying for you and Benjamin. Stay in touch. If you need something, anything, just holler. There is a great group of HOM parents here, we're around if you need us."

"Thanks, Diana, I appreciate it." My friend then ended our hug and walked off in the direction of the NICU's exit.

I left LPCH myself about ten minutes later. First I talked to Florida and informed her I wouldn't be there for the 3 p.m. feeding but would be back by six. The nurse said no problem.

On arriving home, I ate a quick lunch before collapsing into bed for a nap. I was totally exhausted, but not in a great deal of pain from my recent C-section. Not even taking any pain-killers any more. As my eyes began to close I asked myself again if I had gotten in way too deep in regards to Mariel, Sarah and Benjamin. No answer came, just much needed sleep.

*****

I, the lord of sea and sky, I have heard my people cry. All who dwell in dark and sin my hand will save. I who made the stars of night, I will make their darkness bright Who will bear my light to them? Whom shall I send?

Here I am Lord... Is it I Lord?... I have heard you calling in the night... I will go Lord... If you need me... I will hold your people in my heart...

Sang the choir of St. Martin's Catholic Church. The opening hymn of the funeral mass for Chandler Daniel Wilson was the hymn ‘Here I am Lord'. It was just after 5 p.m. that October evening.

John Wilson wasn't singing along with the choir. He just stood silently in the church's front pew, his right arm gently wrapped around his wife Peg, who was surprisingly not sobbing at the moment. Both parents were trying hard to keep their emotions in check at this time.

How many people were there in attendance? No one knew for sure, but the gathering was large for a funeral mass. Both parents had many friends and they had all seemed to have come out in as a sign of support for the grieving couple. Also, many of John's coworkers from school were in attendance. The late hour the service had been scheduled for was so as to accommodate these people.

The mass had begun with the tiny casket of Chandler Wilson being brought in by two pallbearers from Willow Funeral home. Standing just inside the church were St. Martin's three priests. They were Fr. Schultz, the pastor, plus parochial vicars Fr. Callahan and Fr. Martinez. None were actually officiating, this was being done by John Wilson's boss, Fr. Duncan from St. Mary's. All four priests were wearing purple vestments.

Fr. Duncan began the service by saying, "The peace of God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ be with you."

Everyone else in the church said in reply, "And also with you."

The greeting concluded, Fr. Duncan took a scepter from a pail being held by Fr. Martinez and began to sprinkle Chandler's coffin.

"I bless the body of Chandler, with the holy water that recalls his baptism of which Saint Paul writes: All of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death. By baptism into his death we were buried together with him, so just that as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the father, we too might live a new life. For if we have been united with him by likeness to his death, so shall we be united with him by likeness to his resurrection."

After a baptismal garment was placed on the coffin, Fr. Duncan began again, "On the day of his baptism, Chandler put on Christ. In the day of Christ's coming, may he be clothed with glory."

Then the procession began, and the choir began singing. At the same time a lit paschal candle was carried forward to the altar and when finished, placed directly in front of Chandler's coffin.

From this point the funeral mass continued as if it were any Catholic Mass. There was the Kyrie, Glory to God, followed by two readings. The first was from the book of Wisdom, the second from Paul's letter to the Romans. In between these reading the choir sang the responsorial psalm, 'The Lord is my Shepherd.'

During this, John continued to quietly hug his wife Peg. The mother was quietly sobbing now. Both parents were grieving the loss of their son and sometimes questioning why Chandler had to die. Peg was also feeling tremendously guilty for her conduct in the weeks leading up to her son's birth.

"I love you, Peg," John whispered in his wife's ear. She didn't reply.

Finally the alleluia began and everyone in the church rose to their feet. Fr. Duncan walked to the same lectern to the side and front of the altar from which the lectors had done the first two readings; ironically, it was right next to the church's baptismal font. "The Lord be with you."

"And also with you," replied the congregation.

"A reading from the holy Gospel according to Matthew."

"Glory to you, O Lord."

John wrapped his arm around Peg tighter and gently kissed her on the head. Like the prior two readings, the gospel reading had been chosen by Chandler's parents.

"Little children were brought to Jesus then that he might lay his hands on them and pray; but the disciples rebuked them.

"But Jesus said to them, 'Let the children come to me and do not stop them, for it is for such as these that that the Kingdom of Heaven has come.' And he consecrated them, laying his hands over them, and he went from there."

Fr. Duncan then picked up the Book of Gospels and kissed it. "This is the Gospel of the Lord."

"Praise be to you Lord Jesus Christ," the congregation responded before taking their seats again.

The sermon or eulogy said by Fr. Duncan wasn't long. Probably befitting the short life of Chandler Daniel Wilson. Both the boy's parents listened intently, but were still numb from the last week's events. If either was asked the next day what Fr. Duncan had spoken about, neither John nor Peg would have been able to recall much.

The rest of the service was like a regular Sunday mass. The offertory song was How Great Thou Art and for communion the choir sang Amazing Grace. Peg and John both received communion; the expectant mother still overcome by guilt needed some gentle prodding from her husband before taking the host.

When communion was over, the Priests again rose for the final blessing. "Let us pray."

John took Peg's hand, and the couple rose from their seats.

Father Duncan then began speaking, "Lord God, your son Jesus Christ gave us the sacrament of his body and blood to guide us on our pilgrim way to your kingdom. May our brother Chandler who shared in the Eucharist come to the banquet of life, Christ has prepared for us. We ask this through Christ our Lord."

"Amen."

"The Lord be with you."

"And also with you."

Then Fr. Duncan began making the sign of the cross as the congregation followed as he said, "May almighty God bless you, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit."

"Amen."

"The mass is ended. Go in peace, to love and serve the Lord."

"Thanks be to God."

Then the cantor started the closing hymn:

You who dwell in the shelter of the Lord, Who abide in his shadow for life, Say to the Lord, My refuge, my rock in whom I trust!

And he will raise you up on eagle's wings, Bear you on the breath of dawn, Make you to shine like the sun, And hold you in the palm of his hand.

John had his right arm wrapped around Peg as the choir sang all four verses of 'On Eagle's Wings'. The mother was softly sobbing as the service was coming to its end with the song going into its coda,

And hold you, hold you in the palm...of his hand.

After the mass was over, Peg and John climbed in a limo for the ride to the cemetery. Our Lady Queen of Peace was only a ten minute ride from the church. Only Peg and John's family and a select group of friends were invited there. The graveside service was done by Fr. Duncan, and lasted about twenty minutes as daylight began to dwindle.

On finishing in the cemetery, John and Peg returned to St. Martin's. There friends were gathered in the social hall to now console the grieving couple. Food was catered by a nearby parishioner, but neither Peg nor John were very hungry so they ate sparingly. Still weak from her recent ordeal, Peg could only stay an hour at the reception before asking John to take her home.

John drove his wife home. Peg didn't cry on the short drive, but didn't talk, either. Just stared out at the semi-lit streets. Once home the grieving mother retired to the bedroom, while John went to the den to check for phone messages. There were none. However, many bills were piling up and needed to be paid. John was going to take of those but went to check on his wife first.

Peg Wilson was lying in bed clutching her rosary. Next to her was a picture of Chandler, the mother intently focusing on this.

"Is there anything I can get for you?" John asked. "Food? Something to drink?"

"No, nothing right now," Peg replied.

"Just let me know if you need anything."

"I will," Peg said, then her husband bent down and kissed her on the cheek.

*****

Saturday, October 21st

Dear Diary,

Whoever said the NICU phase for newborn triplets is a roller coaster ride is right. I hate leaving the hospital every day.

A few things to report. I joined the mailing list and introduced myself. The welcome I got was warm to say the least; at least half the twenty-one mothers have children in the NICU and we're all trying to support one another through this difficult time. Diana was right, I need this help now.

Benjamin is still so weak and still in the SICU. He will be there through the weekend, then moved to the NICU but not with his sisters. That will make it a little easier for Veronica and I, but not much. Our son is going to be in the hospital for some months to come.

I'm leaving for the hospital in a few minutes. Ciao!

*****

"Peg, are you sure you will be all right?" John Wilson asked his wife as she cleaned up the couple's breakfast dishes. It was the Monday after the funeral, and John was reporting back to his job as a schoolteacher that day for the first time since Chandler's death.

"I have to be all right, I guess," Peg answered truthfully.

"If I could, Peg, I'd stay home with you," John said, giving Peg a gentle kiss on the top of her head as she continued working at the kitchen sink.

"John, I know you have to work. We have bills to pay."

"What do you plan on doing while I'm gone?"

Peg just shrugged. "I don't really know."

"Maybe you could go visit your parents." Peg's parents lived in Fremont, about forty-five minutes away.

"I might," Peg answered as she put the last plate and cup in the dishwasher. "Or I maybe go to mass this morning at St. Martin's."

Peg had her follow up visit with Dr. Sanchez that afternoon. John would be going with Peg to the appointment. Truthfully, Peg shouldn't be driving yet, but John felt it wisest not to unnecessarily argue with his wife at this time. The mother had driven the day before to get the couple's car gassed up while John was taking a nap. "That's a good idea. Weekday mass is what, nine o'clock?"

Peg nodded her head. "Yes, I'd like to go to confession with Fr. Schultz also this week."

"Remember, we've got share care tomorrow. You still want to go?" John asked.

"Yes, I do."

"I'd better get going," he said, then gave his wife a kiss and hug. "Love you, Peg, I'll talk to you at lunch time."

Once John was gone, and she was finished in the kitchen, Peg went to the bedroom to get ready for the day. First she took a shower, then after drying off made an effort at applying a minimal amount of makeup since that was a skill she had yet to master and then got dressed. Lipstick was as far as Peg dared to go, and gave up the idea of trying to do any of her eye makeup. When finally satisfied with her appearance, Peg picked up her purse and left the room.

Before leaving the house, Peg had one last thing to do. Opening her handbag, the mother took out the pack of cigarettes that was inside and threw them in the kitchen garbage can. She never wanted to see or taste a cigarette again in her life.

*****

Monday, October 23rd

Dear Diary,

Progress reports. Sarah and Mariel are both doing great, for the most part. They have gotten down breastfeeding to near perfection. Both suck away happily at my nipple. Only medical concern so far is the girls holding their body temperatures. This is a rather mild premature baby issue, but still important. It will have to be under control before the girls get discharged from LPCH.

Benjamin may be moved up to the NICU today. Dr. Voss is happy with his progress. I just wish I felt so confident. If all goes to plan, Benjamin will be operated on again in mid-November.

Veronica worked the entire weekend. Poor thing is exhausted but otherwise okay.

That's all for today. Ciao!

*****

"Unless you have any further questions, I'll see you again in five weeks," Dr. Sanchez told John and Peg Wilson. The OB/GYN had just finished his examination of Mrs. Wilson.

"Doc, I'd like to ask something," John said. The father hadn't spoken much while Peg was being examined. The mother, being surprisingly talkative that afternoon, had given the OB/GYN an update on both her physical and mental health. Dr. Sanchez had been with the couple nearly a half hour by now.

"Of course, Mr. Wilson, how can I help you?"

"I know Chandler died of sepsis, but why did Peg's water break?" John asked while holding Peg's hand. The mother was remaining silent. "Didn't the infection happen very suddenly?"

Dr. Sanchez felt a deep sense of sorrow for this couple. Still the medical professional didn't have a simple answer for John. "There may have been an abnormality in Chandler's sac. That's one possibility. Another is the same infection that killed your son, caused his membrane to rupture."

John listened as Dr. Sanchez gave several possible reasons for the premature breakage of his wife's water. All seemed perfectly plausible to the father, but still didn't provide him with the answer he was seeking. Probably no medical professional could.

"Chandler most likely already had sepsis before he was even born. In many cases this can spread to the mother also, and endanger her life in addition," Dr. Sanchez explained.

John nodded at the doctor's explanation. Praise be to God, Peg had come through the ordeal without her life being threatened also. "Peg isn't in any danger now?"

"No, she isn't."

"Could my smoking have caused Chandler to die?" Peg asked.

"No, Mrs. Wilson, that couldn't have caused it. It's highly unlikely anything you did caused Chandler's sac to rupture."

As kind as this reassurance sounded, it didn't eliminate the guilt Peg was having. She still blamed herself for Chandler's death.

John squeezed his wife's hand. "Hear that, it isn't your fault. I love you. We were lucky, you could have gotten sick or Chandler could have died inside you. At least we had him for a little bit of time."

"I know," Peg replied, still hanging her head.

"There is no reason you can't try again, Mrs. Wilson. I will want to follow any pregnancy very closely of course, but you are still young and healthy."

John squeezed Peg's hand, but the mother continued to say nothing while remaining expressionless. "Thanks, doctor."

"You're welcome. If that's all, I will see Mrs. Wilson again in five weeks."

John Wilson drove himself and Peg home after the doctor's appointment. On the way the couple talked a little, mostly about their respective days.

They were waiting at a traffic light about five minutes from home when Peg mentioned something. "John?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"My milk came in."

John looked over at Peg. There was a small wet spot on the blouse she was wearing. It was right below Peg's left breast. It was often emotionally traumatic for a mother who lost a child to have her breast milk come in. Since coming home from the hospital, Peg had been applying ice to her breasts to slow or stop it. Apparently it hadn't worked. "We'll put some ice on them as soon as we get home."

"Okay," Peg replied. Then she began to cry.

*****

Tuesday, October 24th

Dear Diary,

Had my follow up appointment with Dr. Crowe yesterday. I'm a perfectly healthy postpartum female. Sometimes I wonder if that's good news or bad.

At least I can drive now. Either I take Veronica to work or she walks or sometimes I'll let her have the car and I will walk. I have to get some more appropriate triplet transportation soon. I'm just so busy now I don't know when I'll find the time.

Time to leave for LPCH. Ciao!

*****

"Mr. and Mrs. Wilson?" asked a teenage girl who didn't look more than fifteen years of age.

John held Peg's hand as the couple rose from their chairs. "Yes, that's us."

"Hi, I'm Tina Kendall. Please follow me."

The Wilsons were shown to a classroom like room. At the front was a folding table. The couple took seats on one side, Tina and her assistant Nicole Wiley took seats on the other. The only things present on the table were Peg's purse and a pen and Share Care fact sheet that John had filled out for him and his wife.

"This is my assistant, Nicole Wiley. He will sit in with us," Tina said, introducing the ten-or so-year-old boy next to her.

"No problem," Peg said.

Tina Kendall then began by telling the Wilsons something about Share Care. The Stanford University based organization had been established in 1992. Among its many functions was a support system for parents who lost a child or widows/widowers under the age of fifty.

The organization was nonprofit and therefore was totally run on donations given to it. Counseling services were technically free, but donations were encouraged.

"I brought a check," John mentioned.

"You can give it to us when you're done," Nicole said in reply.

Tina was reading the fact sheet filled out by John upon arriving at Share Care. "Your son Chandler Daniel Wilson died last October 14th."

"Yes, he did. Chandler was only a day old," Peg clarified. As she did so, John patted her hand. "I was only twenty-eight weeks pregnant and my water broke."

"I'm so sorry for your loss," Tina replied, and Nicole said something along similar lines. "You want to talk about it?"

Peg nodded. "Yes, that's why we're here."

"We were referred by a social worker at Packard Children's Hospital," John added. "I'm still in shock from what happened. It happened so suddenly."

Tina and Nicole didn't say anything. Their job was to listen and both were very good at doing just that. The Wilsons would do most of the talking during the day's session.

"Why did Chandler have to die?" Peg asked, not either for the first nor the last time.

"Sometimes these things are unexplainable," Nicole told her.

"Sometimes I get angry at God," Peg admitted.

"Sweetheart, you shouldn't do that."

"I know," Peg said calmly without any tears. "When we were in church last Sunday, I asked myself why God would allow small children to die."

John patted Peg's hand. "Maybe Jesus needed another angel. We are parents to an angel now."

"But why our Chandler?"

"Sometimes there is no explanation or reason," Nicole said thoughtfully.

Peg was fighting hard not to cry right then. Not because of anything said in the room, but because the mother was beginning to feel ashamed to cry in public. Some people, but for the most part not Peg's family, couldn't understand why she should break down emotionally in public. Sometimes just at the drop of a hat.

Telling people while she cried got Peg mixed responses. Some people understood and shared her grief, but just as often people shunned her, or changed topics. Or Peg Wilson would get the worst response a grieving parent wanted to hear. Namely, that she should get over the death of Chandler.

How does one get over the death of one's very own child? Peg and John were there at Share Care to help learn how to cope with their son's death and one day accept it. Peg was not close to doing either at the moment.

Sometimes Peg got angry with friends who told her or John to get over Chandler's death. The mother and father were really learning who their true friends were. If there had been one good thing to come out of Chandler's death, it was that it drew Peg and John closer together. Without her husband's love and support, Peg would be a worse wreck than she was now.

"The doctor said Chandler may have been sick before Peg's water broke," John said, speaking up.

"Did you have an autopsy performed?" Tina asked.

Peg shook her head. "No, I didn't want one done."

John had agreed with Peg's decision. He took this moment to squeeze his wife's hand. "Maybe it's better Chandler is in heaven, he may have been very sickly."

"Maybe. I just miss him and can't help feeling I was responsible for what happened..." Peg then broke down crying.

Much of the counseling session revolved around Peg's feelings of guilt over Chandler's death. The mother realized how foolish she had been in some of her behavior after the Shift. John, plus Nicole and Tina were all unanimous in their concurrence with Dr. Sanchez. Peg was not at fault for Chandler Wilson's death.

Peg needed to talk these things out and the counseling session proved very beneficial to her. It helped with the depression the mother was feeling then. Also by talking about Chandler, it kept the boy's memory alive in Peg's mind.

"I miss Chandler," she said.

John wrapped his right arm around Peg's shoulders. "I do too, sweetheart."

"I wish Chandler was here with us now."

"Who says he isn't?" John asked, bending over to give Peg a kiss on her cheek. The father was trying to remain cheerful for his wife's sake, but John himself was suffering from depression also over his son's death. "Chandler is our angel. Maybe he is flying around the room right now. He loves his mommy."

Peg showed the briefest glimpse of a smile. "Even if I sometimes resented being pregnant?"

"A baby always loves his or her mother," John said reassuringly. "Remember how Chandler used to kick you all the time?"

Peg nodded her head, but not before taking some Kleenex to wipe her eyes. "I miss Chandler kicking me. Right now I wish he was inside me kicking me all the time."

John Wilson leaned over and gave Peg a kiss on the forehead. It was helping both parents to talk about their feelings.

The Share Care counseling session lasted two hours in all. The session had no time limit, both counselors were available as long as Peg and John Wilson wished to talk that day. Only when it became apparent that both parents were winding down, did Tina begin to mention if Peg and John wanted to come for more counseling.

"What do you think, sweetheart?" John asked his wife, who hadn't spoken up yet.

"Yes, I want to come back again."

"Most parents come once a week, at least in the beginning," Tina said while writing some notes. "Is that acceptable?"

"Yes," Peg answered.

"We'll have to schedule around my work. I'm a schoolteacher at a nearby Catholic school," John added.

"No problem, Mr. Wilson. We have appointments available six days a week, including weekends. What day would be good?"

"Tuesday?" John asked Tina, and then looked over at Peg. The mother just nodded her head at her husband in reply.

About ten minutes later, Peg and John were walking out to their car. The couple was holding hands. Their next counseling session at Share Care would be Tuesday of the next week at 7:30 p.m.

"Are you happy we came?" John asked Peg as he opened the car door for his wife.

"Yes, how about you?" she asked, once John was in the driver's seat.

"I'm glad we came, too," he said as he started up the car. The couple didn't speak for the first ten minutes on the way home. The father sincerely hoped counseling would help his wife recover from Chandler's death.

*****

Thursday, October 26th

Dear Diary,

It's almost two weeks since I gave birth. Can you believe it?

I can, that's for sure. Of late I've been having pain issues in the area of my incision. So much so I have taken three or four percocet over the last three days. Veronica said this isn't unusual for a mother like myself.

Sarah and Mariel are doing very well. Benjamin still has a long road ahead of him.

Not much else to say except I am busy, busy, busy. Ciao!

*****

It was a Friday afternoon, and Peg Wilson was so bored she was crying in her home's living room. With nothing to occupy her mind, the mother couldn't help but think of Chandler. The baby boy had been born two weeks ago exactly to that date.

With no classes at Stanford till January and having no job, part-time or full-time, Peg tried to busy herself around the house. This only half succeeded, housework had always been a woman's job to the former John Wilson. Now she was a reluctant woman, and she did the job only grudgingly because it needed to be done. Maybe Peg would have felt different if Chandler was around. Keeping the house clean for her son would have been worth the effort.

However, Chandler wasn't there, and nor was anyone else but Peg. Done with housework and bored by daytime television, she didn't know what to do. Her one daily activity, rain or shine, was visiting Chandler's grave. This she did at least once daily, sometimes twice. Her husband John went with her on an afternoon visit after getting off of work. These visits provided some emotional relief for Peg, but not enough to remove the guilt she felt.

John wasn't expected home for at least three more hours. Peg's husband had promised his wife dinner out that evening. Maybe even a movie. Till then Peg had to find something to do, so she turned on the living room's television and began flip-flopping channels.

After five or so minutes, Peg's channel surfing landed her on EWTN. EWTN stood for Eternal Word Television Network or the Catholic Channel. Right at this time some nun was praying the rosary.

Peg had been raised Catholic and always attended Sunday mass but admittedly didn't have the strongest faith in God. That faith had been badly shaken by Chandler's death. The mother couldn't understand why Chandler had to die. Had God even punished Peg and John because of their having premarital sex? The couple hadn't till the previous spring in spite of knowing each other for five years and having dated for three of those. Both John and Peg had sinned. Was Chandler punished because of this?

Then Peg also felt guilty. She had been so foolish while pregnant and even resentful of being so. Now looking back the mother couldn't stop feeling she was to blame for Chandler's death. She should have cherished her child and just seen a pregnancy as the road to being a parent instead of a curse.

Deep in thought, Peg just stared at the television. She had plenty of time to either dwell on these questions or wallow in guilt. Would she ever get over Chandler dying?

*****

Monday, October 30th

Dear Diary

Guess what I did yesterday? I locked my car keys and purse in the car. This happened over at LPCH's parking lot. Rachel has AAA, so I called them and a company called Pop-a-Lock came and got the keys out. This took over two hours from the time I called AAA to Pop-a-Lock arriving. I'm not complaining, I got to spend more time with the girls. When I wasn't asleep in the rocking chair, that is.

This wouldn't happen if I could put keys in my pocket. A curse of womanhood - having to carry a purse. Am I ever going to get used to that rite?

The girls are having some trouble keeping their body temps up. This is not a serious problem, but the NICU won't allow Mariel and Sarah to leave the hospital till their body temperatures are stable.

Benjamin is doing the same. Visiting him tears me apart every day. I was never particularly religious, now I go to bed at night asking or praying to God to make Benjamin well. Am I a hypocrite to do this? I don't want this for myself but for Benjamin.

Bye for now.

*****

Tuesday, October 31st

Dear Diary,

Trick or treat!? What costume would you like to wear today? Oh, you're just a microchip.

Since Veronica works in the Pediatric Oncology unit, she got dressed up for the day. She has cat whiskers and a tail. Veronica is a pussy cat. Meow! Anyway, she does look cute in the outfit. A group of San Francisco Giant and 49er players will pay a visit to the ward today. These athletes have a good heart. They bring cheer to these sick children. Bravo to them.

From the humor department - would you believe someone hit a tree across the street from us? A man in his mid-eighties hit it while I was trying to take an afternoon nap. I was awakened by the collision and went downstairs to investigate. The elderly man was out of the car by the time I got there and apparently unhurt. His explanation - "I didn't see it." You couldn't see a hundred year oak tree? This man shouldn't be driving.

Ciao!

*****

Thursday, November 2, 2000

Dear Diary,

For the first time ever I visited the Pediatric Oncology ward where Veronica works on Halloween. My costume was pretty basic, just a black witch's hat. It's heartbreaking seeing all these sick children, and I count my lucky stars Rachel and Mariel are doing so well.

None or very few of the children can eat candy at the moment but I did spend time reading to a nine-year-old being treated for leukemia. At least I brought a little cheer to her life.

I'm leaving for LPCH now. Ciao!

*****

It was All Soul's Day and Peg Wilson had just finished praying her rosary in the back of St. Martin's Catholic Church when a woman in her mid-sixties took a seat nearby. "Good morning."

"Hello," Peg said as she began to put her rosary in her purse. The mother stayed after mass to say the rosary. Today Peg had said or prayed multiple rosaries. It was a Catholic feast day, after all.

"I've seen you here a lot lately."

"Yes," Peg replied as she began to stand up. Today was the fourth consecutive day the mother had attended weekday mass. For some reason Peg felt comforted in church. As if she was closer to Chandler there and by praying to her son, Peg could be with him.

Peg had noticed this woman every day at mass, but had never spoken to her. If the mother mentioned Daniel's death, Peg would have certainly heard words of sympathy. Sometimes Peg preferred to keep her recent loss private. "It's been nice meeting you."

"Nice meeting you, too. My name is Teresa. You can call me Terry."

"Everyone calls me Peg, but my name is Margaret. Nice to meet you, Terry."

Terry then took out some prayer books. "If you're ever interested, we have a Legion of Mary. It's a Catholic lay group, strictly voluntary. We visit the sick or shut-ins in the parish. If you're interested, we meet every Tuesday after 9 a.m. mass."

"Thanks for the invitation," Peg told Terry before exiting out the church's side entrance. It was a sunny but cool November morning. As Peg walked to the car, the mother wondered what she would do for the rest of the day till John came home.

One thing Peg would do was visit Chandler's grave. The drive from St. Martin's to the cemetery was a short one. After removing a plastic jug of water from her car, Peg made the short walk to her son's unmarked grave. A burial marker was on order but wouldn't arrive for another two months or more yet. Besides the freshly dug earth, the only outward sign of Chandler's grave was a small vase with a red teddy bear tied to it.

"Hi, Chandler, Mommy is here to say hello."

The flowers in the vase were still fresh, so Peg only removed them so she could pour the water out. Having done this, she then poured the fresh water into the vase and put the flowers back in.

Once this was done, Peg made a sign of the cross. "Our Father, who art in heaven..."

*****

Saturday, November 4th

Dear Diary,

A very scary thing happened on the night of November 1st-2nd. Benjamin had a sleep apnea episode. This usually happens with infants, particularly those born prematurely. The child will stop breathing. This is also known as SIDS or Crib Death.

Since Benjamin was in the NICU the doctors and nurses were quick to respond. Still, it's a scary complication considering everything else going on in my son's life right now.

I'm only doing fair. This setback has shaken me. The girls are doing better every day, the only issue left is their body temperatures. Sarah and Mariel could be coming home very soon.

Adrian and Stephanie's new show opens tonight, but I'm not in the mood to attend, so I took a rain check. My friends understand and hope Veronica and I can attend another time. I hope so, too.

Otherwise, just another weekend upon me. Ciao!

*****

Monday, November 6th

Dear Diary,

Day one hundred of a man held hostage in a triplet Mom's body... Oh, heck, I'd better get over it and get on with life.

Why am I asking you for advice? You're just a microchip.

Seems like a long time ago this all started for me. Time flies, that's for sure. I wish it went faster so the children could come home. This NICU time is proving to be so draining for me.

The girls and Benjamin are all the same. Nothing really new to report. I'm going to have my hair done today. Haven't decided yet on a style.

That's all. Ciao!

*****

9 a.m. Mass on November 7th didn't end till almost 9:30 that morning. The main reason was Father Schultz's long sermon that day.

Instead of praying her rosary after mass, Peg was watching some of the people in the church. At least ten of them had gone back to the room marked 'Choir' on the church's east side. Peg was wondering if that was where the Legion of Mary met.

Feeling a little shy or tentative, Peg got up from her seat and made her way to the room. Once there she slowly opened the door and stepped inside.

"Why, hello there," said a tall man in his early or mid-sixties. "Are you here for the Legion of Mary?"

Peg nodded her head. "Yes, my name is Peg or Margaret Wilson."

"Nice to meet you, Margaret, my name is Larry Goebbler," the man replied, and then began introducing Peg, or Margaret as Larry called her, to the other people in the room. One was named Teresa Thompson, the one who invited Peg to join the group a week earlier.

"Hi," Peg said very shyly. "Nice to meet you."

Larry then spoke up again. "Margaret, do you know anything about the Legion of Mary?"

"No, not really," Peg admitted to Larry. "But I was interested in learning more and maybe even joining."

Larry waved for Peg to take a seat; this she did. The rest of the Legion of Mary was sitting with the exception of Larry. "We're happy you came, Margaret. Now, let me tell you more about the organization..."

*****

I must have fallen asleep in LPCH's NICU, as I was startled when I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was my friend Veronica.

"Hi, Rachel. Why don't you go back to the house and catch some zzz's?"

The first thing I did was sit up straight in the rocking chair. Taking a glance at my wristwatch, I saw the time was 1:10. "I must have fallen asleep."

"Being a Mom is a lot of work," Veronica said with a slight grin.

"You're telling me," I said, still shaking the sleep from my head. "I'm going home right now."

I was back at Veronica's home ten minutes later. On the way in I brought in the mail, but I paid no heed to what had come. On entering the house I went straight upstairs, dropped the mail on a desk in the den and then went into the master bedroom.

To be frank, I almost fell into the bed for I was that tired. But before closing my eyes, I rolled over to the side of the bed where an alarm clock and the upstairs phone were. I set the former for 3:30, since I wanted to return to LPCH.

The phone I took off the hook. The answering machine showed eleven messages, up two from the last time I looked. Many of the phone calls were from people wanting updates on the kids. These people meant well, I just found it hard to find time to speak to all of them. My days were so filled with my time at LPCH. The rest of the calls were people asking for Veronica or sometimes the real Rachel. Those I ignored.

I was asleep within seconds of closing my eyes.

*****

"That's great, sweetheart," John said after getting up from a kitchen chair to kiss his wife. "I'm glad you joined this group. It will give you something to do every Tuesday."

"Yes, it will," Peg replied with more surety in her voice. The couple was going to have an early dinner that night because of their Share Care appointment. The menu was very simple - hamburgers cooked on an indoor grill plus salad.

"So, how did it go today?"

"I went with this parishioner named Terry Thompson. We visited three people in a nursing home."

"That's good."

"Afterwards, Terry and I went to lunch together."

John smiled. He was happy to hear Peg enjoying herself. "I'm glad you got out and enjoyed yourself."

"Want to hear something funny?"

"What?"

"When I joined, I told everyone my name. Since then, everyone calls me Margaret."

Both Wilsons shared a brief laugh. Maybe the first since Chandler had died. "I haven't been called that since high school. Other than by my parents, I mean," John said.

"Yes, I've noticed," Peg remarked as she tossed the salad. She didn't note that it was unlikely her husband would ever be called Peg or Margaret ever again. Rather, it would be her getting called those names. Just another reminder of how The Great Shift had changed the Wilson's lives.

"I know you have to be incredibly bored right now. At least it's only two more months till classes begin at Stanford again."

"Yes, that isn't too bad," Peg replied. Right at the moment she didn't have either the drive, focus or just plain interest in returning to law school. The mother wasn't absolutely sure why, but Chandler's death was probably part of it. Peg had been finding it very difficult to concentrate on anything of late. "John, if I wanted to put off school till next Fall, would you be all right with that?"

"Whatever you wish to do is fine with me, sweetheart," John said as he came up from behind Peg and wrapped his arms around his wife.

"I just don't know if I'm mentally ready for college."

"That's all right, sweetheart. I do understand," John answered as he slowly kissed her neck.

Almost at once Peg's body was covered in goose bumps. The mother was thankful for the kisses, even if they were a little ticklish. John's love and understanding meant so much to her. She needed it to help her cope with Chandler's death. Without it, Peg was certain she would be a basket case.

Peg was finding it difficult to prepare dinner with John in such close proximity, and was about to say something but decided not to. Having a sexually aroused husband, like having a female name now, were just two bits of new luggage the former John Wilson would have to cope with in the post-shift world. There was just nothing that could be done about it, with the exception of divorce. Something the new Peg would never consider.

There was so much to learn or accept about life in the Post-Shift world. Like having one's sex changed. The new Peg Wilson had lots of company there, an estimated two billion other men had become women on July 29th, 2000.

What had made the change so hard on Peg was she had no desire ever to be a woman. Not in the slightest. No curiosity at all about life as the other sex. At the minimum, she resented what had happened; at the most, Peg hated what the shift had done to her.

This had affected Peg's thought processes in regards to being pregnant. The former John Wilson had no desire for this, either. Yes, she wanted a child, but not to be the one who would physically carry a baby and then give birth. So Peg had resented this new role, also.

Then Chandler died. Now Peg was seeing how dumb and foolish she had been. She would do anything now to have Chandler back alive and inside her. But this would not happen and Peg would have to live with that for the rest of her life. If there was any good news, she had lots of company. Except for those men who had transsexual wishes or tendencies, other men were going through what Peg was.

Now she would live life as a woman named Peg. The wife of John Wilson. Right now Peg was slowly beginning to accept her fate in the Post-Shift world.

As far as physical changes, Peg had grown accustomed to them if not totally accepting her sex change. Mentally the mother still considered herself male. Peg would just have to live in this uneasy state the rest of her life.

What may be the most difficult part of Peg's new life, was how her role in life had changed. In spite of being born male, society or culture held that women like Peg should fill the traditional roles and handle the traditional responsibilities women had since creation.

Today was a perfect example. Peg was cooking dinner for herself and John. Much like wives did before the shift. Now it's true, John helped with the chores, as had Peg pre-shift, but roles in the household had reversed as well as the couple's gender. Peg was a housewife, a job that had many responsibilities without any monetary compensation. John was the breadwinner, and even Post-Shift Peg was expected to do traditional female chores like cleaning, laundry and cooking.

All this caused Peg to oscillate between feelings of being overwhelmed on one side to being angry at other times. To top it off, Peg was getting another reminder of how life had been reversed for her.

It was John and his close proximity to Peg. His arms still wrapped around her, his gentle kisses on his neck. His bulging penis pointing to a spot above her buttocks.

Peg was all too familiar with this feeling, just not on the receiving end. John was aroused, and Peg was feeling the same toward John. The goose bumps that covered her body and the warmth in her vagina, new feelings, odd feelings, but definitely a sign of wanting John's penis inside her.

This just wasn't the time. It was time for dinner, not sex. Dr. Sanchez had told the couple no intercourse till a month after Chandler was born. That wasn't till next week.

But the biggest reason was Peg just wasn't ready. Sex roles had been reversed like almost everything else after the Shift. While she still loved John, Peg wasn't yet ready to take on this female role.

Peg was certain she would have to let John make love to her one day and many times afterwards. The possibility of getting pregnant wasn't holding her back so much as Peg's still male mindset finding this just another female role hoisted upon on it, willing or not. A part of Peg still resisted being a woman.

"John?"

"Yes, sweetheart?" John asked as he continued to kiss the nape of his wife's neck.

Peg decided diplomatic tact was best. "John, we need to get dinner ready."

Immediately, her husband took a step back as he released his hold on Peg. "Oh, sorry, anything I can do?"

"Plug in the grill, please," Peg told her husband. "We'll be putting the hamburgers on pretty soon."

*****

Friday, November 10th

Dear Diary,

I've been busy, that is why it is so long between updates.

Sarah and Mariel are doing great. They should be discharged soon, the NICU won't say when. Could be today, tomorrow, next week. Who knows?

Benjamin is a real fighter, but still faces another operation soon. Veronica is still...Veronica. I guess all of this sounds terribly repetitive.

My days start at 4:30 in the morning and I fall asleep approximately 10-10:30 p.m. every night. I go back and forth between the house and LPCH three to five times a day. Feeding the girls, spending some time with Benjamin. Talking to the doctors. I catch naps when I can, it's still very tiring.

"If you think it's tiring now, wait till all three of them are home."

Yes, I know. That's why I've got to get some rest and take care of myself. Stephanie stopped by two days ago and again invited me and Veronica to see the show. I just don't have my heart in it now. Maybe I should go and do something different.

"Maybe I should."

Can you tell me why I listen to you? End of today's ramble. Ciao!

*****

The Wilsons were just leaving the parking lot after Sunday mass when Peg said something that surprised John. "Do you think God punished us by having Chandler die?"

John was so surprised he almost brought the family car to a stop. "Peg, why do you think that?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. It's just the other day I was thinking about how I or you got pregnant."

"You mean because we had premarital sex?"

"Yes," Peg replied as she looked out the car window. The couple was going to have lunch at the home of John's parents that afternoon.

John took Peg's hand as he drove. "Sweetheart, God isn't like that. We sinned, not Chandler. That isn't why our baby died."

Peg really wanted to believe this, but she just had doubts from time to time. "I haven't even dreamed of Chandler since he died."

"I haven't either, but Peg, you will one day. Chandler will talk to you in a dream one day. Trust me."

"Chandler, I love you," Peg said out loud, still hurting beyond words at her son's death. Tomorrow would mark exactly one month since Chandler Wilson died.

*****

Monday, November 13th

Dear Diary,

Happy one month birthday to Benjamin, Sarah and Mariel. Is it a month already?

Veronica was off last weekend so she alternated with me taking turns at LPCH.

Nothing else to report. Ciao.

*****

"I'm coming. I'm Coming," Peg Wilson called out. She was hearing the sound of a baby crying, but didn't know where the noise was coming from.

Peg went from room to room in the house. No baby could be found. Where did the crying come from? Why wouldn't it stop?

The only room Peg hadn't entered yet was the nursery. Putting her ear to the door, the mother listened to determine if this was the origin of the crying baby. Not sure if she was still heard anything, Peg slowly entered the room.

Bright light was shining in from the nursery's one window. It was falling directly on the crib in the center of the room. Inside the crib was a baby boy who began crying the moment Peg Wilson walked in.

"Don't cry, Chandler, don't cry. Mom is here," Peg said as she walked over to the crib. Still the baby boy continued to wail. Reaching into the crib, the mother picked up the infant child. The moment she did so, the crying stopped.

A rocking chair was in a nearby corner. Carrying the baby there, Peg sat down and slowly began to rock her son to sleep. "I love you, Chandler. I love you. Please forgive me. I love you. I love you..."

*****

Peg woke from her dream with a start. A glance at a nearby alarm clock showed the time to be only 4:09 in the morning. Since her bladder felt mostly full, she got up out of bed and used the bathroom.

When Peg got back to bed, she couldn't fall back to sleep and instead tossed and turned for nearly fifteen minutes, her dream of Chandler still vivid in her mind. Yesterday was exactly a month since the baby boy died and Peg had just had her first dream of her son. She wished the dream hadn't ended.

"I miss you, Chandler. I love you," Peg said quietly so as to not disturb her still sleeping husband. Taking the rosary located underneath her pillow, the mother made a sign of the cross and began to pray.

*****

Wednesday, November 15th

Dear Diary,

We got some news yesterday. Benjamin's next and hopefully final operation will be next Monday, the 20th. I can hardly wait till my boy's ordeal will be over. This is so emotionally draining right now.

The doctors are hopeful in regard to Benjamin's long-term prognosis. They will know more after this operation. I know in my heart Benjamin is a fighter. He is so much stronger than me through all that has happened. I just hope and pray the pain and suffering will be over soon. Benjamin coming home would make the best year-end present for 2000.

It really helps talking to the Moms group I am subbed to. There are ten or eleven of us right now who have babies in the NICU. It helps to talk to people who understand. Nancy called last night to check on how we're doing, and promised to stop by later this week. She is so sweet to do this, and Jack, too.

We're still clueless to when Sarah and Mariel will be coming home. They are doing so well feeding, gaining weight and keeping their body temperatures that Veronica and I think it won't be long at all. Just in case, we keep a bag packed in Veronica's car if we're told its time.

Not much else to report. I'm getting close to Rachel's pre-pregnancy weight of 151. I'd like to slim that down some. I only stand 5'6-5'7. Maybe I'll look into Weight Watchers or a Fitness Gym, but not till all the children are out of the hospital.

I'll be heading over to LPCH around 8 a.m. Ciao.

*****

I was almost to the NICU's entrance when I got a surprise. My best friend was waiting there for me. "Veronica, is anything wrong?"

She smiled. "Nothing at all, Rachel. We got great news, the girls can come home today. Go back to the car and get the bag. Dr. Holland has given me today and tomorrow off."

I was nearly beside myself at hearing this news. Immediately I hurried back to the elevator. Sarah and Mariel were coming home!

*****

Thursday, November 16th

Dear Diary,

Sarah and Mariel are home at last! Veronica and I brought the girls home just before 10 a.m. yesterday. I was so happy for this moment to arrive.

"How many hours did you sleep last night?"

Four or five hours. One or two at a time. How did you know? Oh, you're just a microchip. Unlucky for me, lucky for Veronica, I am the one with milk. So I have to rise for the every three hour feedings. According to what I read this gets easier, but I could have to endure this for anywhere from six weeks to six months.

All that considered, I am just so happy the girls are home. It does complicate matters, now the girls are home and Benjamin is in the NICU. I so want to spend time with him but now it's not so easy. Sarah and Mariel aren't allowed in the NICU anymore and so I need someone to watch them.

I may have a solution for this. A neighbor here named Lorna Jones has a sister Julia who is waiting to take the state nursing exam. Veronica and I may hire Julia to work three to four hours a day so I can go visit Benjamin every day. We'll be talking to Julia sometime tomorrow. I'm still planning to return to work in January, so we'll have to hire a nanny sometime next month. Life is going to be complicated for a while. Veronica and I will have to go out, too, to get bigger transportation for her. Three babies in a Nissan Altima isn't going to work.

So much to do, so little time. Well, I'd better go grab a nap while I can. Ciao!

*****

After morning mass on November 17th and paying a visit to the cemetery and Chandler's grave, Peg decided to visit a Barnes and Noble bookstore. The store was on Route 101 and only a few miles from the Wilson home.

One thing hadn't changed with the Shift for Peg Wilson. She was still a book worm. Before the Shift, John Wilson used to spend hours sometimes in a bookstore. A visit to Barnes and Noble always resulted in some books being purchased. As few as one or two, sometimes as many as ten. John never cared much for buying books at Amazon.com. You can't browse a book online before purchasing it.

Today was the first time since the Shift that Peg visited a book store. Not attending law school at the moment, and not being employed either left the woman with lots of time to fill. Peg's visit proved very fruitful. She had picked out seven books to purchase.

Peg was on the way to the front cash register when she passed through a special display area of the store. The Shift's aftermath created a whole new breed of book. Books on the cause, tales of people and how their lives had been changed, even works of fiction with The Shift as part of the plot.

None of these books particularly interested Peg Wilson. There was one last group of books for life Post-Shift. Self help books, mostly for coping with the changes with which people had to cope. Having one's sex changed was one such example, but age changes and race changes had also been topics of a few bestsellers. Even the 'Dummies' series had come out with books covering a variety of topics. While passing by the section, Peg decided to make one last stop before exiting the store.

A half hour later Peg left the store and drove home with nine books. After eating lunch, she went to work with one of the books she bought.

John got home at 4:53 that afternoon. Putting his briefcase down on a table near the front door, the husband called for his wife. "Peg, I'm home."

"I'm in the bathroom," she called back.

To say John was greatly surprised on what he found Peg was doing in the bathroom was an understatement. His wife was practicing with makeup.

"Hey," John said as he gave Peg a kiss. "What have you been up to today?"

One of the extra two books Peg had bought that day was Makeup for Dummies. What had caused this? It was partly two things. Peg's love for John was one. The ordeal of Chandler's death had drawn the couple closer together. Peg had grown very dependent on John's love and felt without her husband she had little purpose in life right then.

In fact, Peg had been growing insecure about her looks of late. From her days as a man, Peg knew how men preferred attractive women. Makeup, if not overdone, can make a woman more attractive. Peg wanted John to be pleased with her, and if makeup helped with this, well, she was willing to do this mostly unmanly chore.

Peg had been practicing in the bathroom almost four hours. Reading the book and checking constantly in the mirror. She thought her work hadn't been too bad, but a better judge was now available. "How did I do?"

"Not too bad. You can still improve some," John replied sincerely. "Want my help?"

Peg nodded her head. "If you don't mind."

John laughed before bending over to kiss Peg again. "I'll do anything for you. I love you."

"Love you, too."

*****

Tuesday, November 21st

Dear Diary,

Benjamin had his operation yesterday, and it proved to be another gut wrenching day. I spent as much time at LPCH as I could, leaving Julie to care for the girls.

The surgeon said Benjamin took the operation well and his prognosis is good. The only bad news out of the operation is Benjamin lost about one fifth of his large intestine. I guess I've got to accept this and make sure he gets the best care.

I'm kind of worn out emotionally and physically from yesterday. Ciao.

*****

Thursday, November 23rd

Dear Diary,

Today is Thanksgiving, and I've got a lot to be thankful for. Benjamin, Sarah and Mariel most of all. Benjamin is still recovering from the operation. The girls are doing well at home. I had a 2 a.m. feeding to do this morning.

Do I sound nuts after all my moaning and groaning last summer? I don't know what happened to me, but I've gotten totally drawn into motherhood. No regrets, even if I am sleep deprived.

Veronica is working a twenty-four hour shift today. I'm going to bring Sarah and Mariel over to LPCH sometime in the afternoon and we'll all have lunch with Veronica.

That's all. Ciao!

*****

John and Peg Wilson had Thanksgiving dinner at the home of John's parents. The couple didn't leave for the drive home till a little after 9 p.m.

"How are you, sweetheart?" John asked as they were driving home.

"Okay, I guess," Peg replied. "I just miss Chandler so much today."

"I miss him, too."

"Guess we must be just thankful we had Chandler for the time we did."

"Yes," John said, reaching over to pat his wife's hand. "The doctor said Chandler could have died in your womb."

"I know."

Just before going to bed that night, John brought up an awkward topic. "Peg, sweetheart, have you thought much about what you want to do for Christmas and New Years?"

Peg hadn't given the subject much consideration at all except for how much she would miss Chandler at Christmas. "No, why?"

"My parents wondered if we wanted to take our honeymoon then," John told his wife as he got into bed. Peg was already there reading a book. "If we wanted to go to Singapore like before, or instead go to Switzerland now. The doctor would probably okay you for skiing when you see him this week."

She thought for a few moments before answering, "John, I don't think I'm ready yet. Next summer I will."

"Okay, sweetheart," he replied, and then bent over to kiss Peg. "I understand how you feel."

"Thank you," Peg said in reply. Then tears began to form in her eyes. "I don't know what I would have without you since Chandler died."

John kissed Peg again as he wrapped an arm around her. "I am always here for you, sweetheart."

"Thank you for being so understanding," Peg told John as she kissed her husband back. "I love you."

"Love you, too."

Peg was going to read some more after untangling herself from John, when she noticed that bulge again. Or John's penis. It was pointing at the back of one of her legs.

Her husband was wearing pajamas to bed that night like always. Still they barely kept the man's penis concealed. Then Peg let her left hand drift down and grasp her husband's organ.

"He's a big boy."

"Uh...yes, he is," John said with a loud chuckle. The couple then paused, both waiting for the other to make the first move. Not seeing a response from Peg, John spoke first, "Maybe it's time for me to hit the sack. Love you, sweetheart."

John kissed her one last time before rolling to his side of the bed in preparation for going to sleep. For a minute or two Peg just lay there thinking to herself. She had come very close to asking John to make love to her. Why hadn't she?

Not certain of herself and her new gender, Peg waited for John to make the first move. This he didn't do, which left Peg mildly disappointed. On the other hand, Peg had one reason she didn't want to have intercourse. That it could result in her getting pregnant.

Ten minutes later Peg turned off the bedside light and tried to go to sleep. Her mind kept thinking of what had happened only six weeks earlier. "I love you, Chandler. I wish I was still pregnant with you."

Peg cried herself to sleep that night as she recalled her oh so short time with Chandler. The mother was beginning to wonder if being pregnant was a blessing rather than a curse.

*****

Saturday, November 25th

Dear Diary,

I almost went out to the mall yesterday. Me, go shopping? Have I lost my mind? No, don't answer those questions.

A couple of things held me back. First, it is the weekend after Thanksgiving. This is one of the busiest shopping periods of the year. I had totally forgotten this, even with the deluge of advertising in the papers the last three days! Triplet Mom brain is comparable to Swiss Cheese. Anyway, Veronica reminded me before I went out.

Second thing is, it's RSV season. What is RSV? That is Respiratory Syntytial Virus. An infection to which premature babies are very prone. It lasts from November to April. Some triplet Moms keep their children's out activity in that time very limited. Almost as if they are under house arrest.

I am going to take RSV season seriously. For the children's health and my sanity (What's left of it). Sarah and Mariel have their first pediatrician's appointment next week. Susan Yang was recommended to me by some of the local triplet Moms. She is supposed to be excellent. I will ask Dr. Yang about what precautions I should take at that appointment. Veronica said there are shots the children can get, too.

So shopping will have to wait. At least clothes shopping. Call me crazy, but I'd like to get some new clothes. I just don't feel right wearing the real Rachel's clothing. Even if I possess her body now.

Oh, did you hear the one about the man who didn't pay the exorcist? He was repossessed! Okay, I won't give up my day job.

Talking about day jobs, the stock market had its first up week since re-opening. Maybe we have hit bottom, but this was a short week. Too limited a span to be making judgments on in my opinion.

Veronica will have a day off next week. When she does, I'm going car shopping. Unless I have a sudden change of mind, the car will be a Suburban. I'm still trying to get a hold of my insurance agent in regard to my Jaguar. Wish me luck.

Benjamin continues to improve after the operation. Veronica and I have no idea when he'll be coming home. It will be a miracle if he does before 2001 arrives. The girls are doing great. I'm just hanging in here. The sleepless nights and having to juggle caring for Mariel and Sarah at home and visiting Benjamin are wearying to say the least. I knew this going in, so there is no one to blame.

I mentioned to Veronica yesterday about our hiring a nanny. My friend didn't feel like discussing it. I guess it will be up to me to do the search.

That's all, folks. Ciao!

*****

Monday, November 27th

Dear Diary,

Eat, pee, cry, sleep, poop, cry, repeat.

What is that? What newborn babies do. The routine is pretty predictable. Babies just mix up the order sometimes to confuse their parents. Such is life for me right now.

I may begin feeding Benjamin with a bottle soon. Up to now he has been on an IV. He is getting slowly stronger. It is still so agonizing seeing him suffering in the hospital. I wish Benjamin was home now.

Veronica is off tomorrow, so I'll be going car shopping while she is home with the girls.

That's all. Ciao!

*****

Wednesday, November 29th

Dear Diary,

I am now the owner of a 2001 Chevy Suburban, aka The Tank or Tripletmobile. Cost? $45,000 plus. This is an awful lot of money for a depreciating asset. Heck, I paid one hundred grand for my Jaguar. At least this car is more practical.

Due to the Shift, I haven't taken possession of the vehicle yet. My credit has to be checked out, you know people's identities have all been changed. The dealer is being cautious, I gave them my work references. I should have the Suburban by the weekend.

Something else came up while I was at Montoya Chevrolet. After mentioning the reason I needed the Suburban, namely Benjamin, Sarah and Mariel, the salesman went to speak to the General Manager. The dealer asked if me and the children would like to do a print or television advertisement for the dealership. The General Manager at this dealer is Alexis Montoya, a niece of the company founder.

In compensation for doing a commercial or photo shoot, the Chevy dealer would knock anywhere from one to three thousand off the price of the Suburban. This would depend if it's a print or television ad and how many the children would appear in it.

Nothing is certain yet. First I needed to discuss this with Veronica, to see if she has any objections. The dealer needs to work out the details, also. I'll keep you informed.

I've got to leave for LPCH now. Ciao!

*****

"Dinner is delicious," John Wilson told his wife Peg after eating a mouthful of spaghetti. "You got Mom's recipe perfect."

Peg took her husband's statement as a compliment. She even admitted her mother-in-law was an excellent Italian cook, particularly her meatballs. "I'm glad you like it."

"I love it," John said, and then he laughed. "Like I love you."

"You only say that because I feed you."

John paused from eating and reached across the small kitchen table to take Peg's hand. "No, I truly love you."

The newlyweds went back to eating their meals. "How was work today?"

"Okay, I guess. The students are getting excited for Christmas."

Due to Chandler's death, Peg wasn't feeling particularly joyous this holiday season. The mother hadn't put up one single Christmas decoration yet. "So excited, you had to have a teacher-parent conference today."

"Yes, Sarah Hoffman's mother and I had a few things to discuss. She's a bright student, but sometimes Sarah has behavioral problems."

Peg looked down at her half eaten dinner. Her appetite wasn't so good that night, she was already beginning to feel full. "Maybe you're seeing another woman I don't know about."

John was shocked by what Peg had said. He immediately stopped eating and put down his fork. "Peg, why did you say such a thing?"

"I don't know. Maybe you'd like some woman who knows how to do her own makeup," Peg said, beginning with a straight face but ending with a slight grin.

John now knew Peg was joking with him. "No, never. You're doing such a good job."

"Really?" Peg asked back. Of late she had been feeling more vain or insecure in regard to her appearance. Sometimes Peg mused that her new female body was overtaking what was left of her male mind.

"Yes, really," John told his wife. "So, how was your day today?"

"Okay, I guess. Just the usual," Peg replied. She was finished eating now, but would wait for John to finish eating before she got up to begin washing dishes. "I miss Chandler so much."

Peg began crying right then and there. John immediately stopped eating and moved his chair next to his wife. There he wrapped an arm around Peg in order to console her. "I miss Chandler too, sweetheart."

"Why did Chandler have to die?" Peg asked in between sobs. It was not quite two months since Chandler died, and the Mother sometimes would begin crying at the drop of a hat. Or sometimes not. A few days earlier Peg had been in a shopping mall. The sight of a mother with a newborn baby in a stroller had been enough cause for Peg to have a crying episode.

John didn't try answering the unanswerable question. Instead he hugged Peg tight, while gently kissing her. Only when Peg's sobbing subsided, did John end the hug.

"Sweetheart, why don't we go out and see a movie tonight?" he asked. He was right in guessing that Peg felt cooped up in their home with little to do. Other than Share Care, Church, and spending time with their families, the couple had rarely gone out since Chandler's death.

Peg wiped her eyes and face with some Kleenex given to her by John. She was blessed to have such a loving and caring husband. "Yes, I'd like that. I'd better start cleaning up now, so we can get ready."

John saw Peg begin to get up, but motioned for her to sit back down. "I'll clean up, sweetheart. Just take a look at tonight's movie times. Whatever movie you want to see is fine with me."

Peg didn't say anything in reply, just nodded her head before John bent down and kissed her once again. Then the mother picked up that Friday's TGIF section from the San Jose Mercury-Times and began to check the movie listings.

*****

Saturday, December 2nd

Dear Diary,

Wow, it's December already. Hanukkah and Christmas are fast approaching. So is 2001. Time is really flying of late.

I'm in a great mood today. Why? Got a phone call from the attorney representing me in Lilah's palimony suit. My ex-girlfriend has decided to drop it. No reason for this was given. Right now I'm too busy or involved to feel anything but relief that that episode in my life is over. I don't even feel particularly angry at Lilah right now. Maybe that's the right choice, take the high road. Who knows, maybe Lilah made the same decision.

Yesterday I took Mariel and Sarah to see Dr. Yang. I liked the doctor, she has a nice personality and the children were comfortable with her. That's very important. We talked about many topics including RSV. Dr. Yang told me I need to particularly conscious of the girl's and Benjamin's exposure to germs. Cleanliness, like washing one's hands all the time, is very important. As to going outdoors, Dr. Yang didn't say for me to keep the children locked up, but told me to be cautious instead. I'm going to be exactly that, maybe only take Benjamin, Sarah and Mariel out one or two times a month not counting doctor's appointments. It really is best, I don't want the children to get sick.

Then came the fun part. Sarah and Mariel got their first inoculations. To say they weren't happy getting shots is an understatement. Both howled on getting stuck, and I really felt for them. A mother feels the pain her children suffer.

Can you believe I am writing this after my diatribes of last summer? Looking back now I can't believe how selfish I used to be. A good mother can't be selfish.

One last thing, I picked up the Suburban last night. The baby car seats are installed in back now, all three of them. No word yet on whether we'll do a commercial for Montoya Chevrolet. You know the saying - "Don't call us, we'll call you."

Ciao!

*****

Monday, December 4th

Dear Diary,

I'm not feeling too good today. Stuffy nose, headache, just feeling plain lousy in general. Please, I hope the girls or Benjamin don't get whatever I have.

Yesterday I got a weird phone call. It happened when I was in the middle of changing Sarah's diaper, and Mariel was crying, too. The call was for Rachel, and instead of hanging up, I tried talking to the person. Whoever it was started giving me an earful, something about an overdue bill. I was so annoyed at the caller, and just too busy to tangle with this woman. So I just hung up the phone.

Later on I mentioned the subject to Veronica. She seemed unconcerned. Maybe I should get Caller ID and a privacy detector for the phone here. That won't make much sense if we move to Mountain View after Benjamin comes home. I'll just do nothing in the meantime.

That's all. Ciao!

*****

Tuesday, December 5th

Dear Diary,

Ugh, I got this terrible cold or is it an allergy? Since Sunday I've been feeling a little off. Sneezing some, plus I had a slight headache. Then yesterday morning I woke with a runny nose. I've been blowing it ever since. Veronica told me Rachel was prone to allergies or seasonal changes. I guess that's my fate in life now.

Really, it isn't that bad except for one thing, I'm not allowed to see Benjamin in the NICU. That RSV thing again. I hate this, but what can I do?

Mariel and Sarah are doing great, but are still waking during the middle of the night. That means I sleep fitfully at best. I wonder still if I made the right decision regarding the children and Veronica. Usually whenever I lack sleep!

Nothing else to say. I have to go to the market this morning. We have only one-hundred diapers left and I am getting scared we're running out!

Ciao!

*****

The Wilsons were reading the newspaper on the morning of December 6th as they ate breakfast.

While eating her bagel with cream cheese spread on it, Peg was dwelling on a couple of topics. The first was what pet name she should use for her husband. Married couples rarely referred to one another by their Christian names. Except if one was angry at the other.

Before and after the shift, whomever was John used Sweetheart or Sweety when referring to Peg.

As to a pet name for the pre-shift John, sometimes Peg had called him honey.

"Honeybuns?" Peg said, looking across at her husband. The word she had just used in no way was referring to something you get at a Donut shop.

John was a little surprised by Peg. He immediately smiled. "Yes, sweety?"

Peg took a breath before speaking. "Honeybuns, I don't think I'm ready to go back to Stanford yet."

"Sweetheart, it's your decision. Whatever you decide, I support you."

"Thank you," Peg replied as she stopped eating. She had given the subject a great deal of thought.

"Peg, I know you're bored," John said after drinking some coffee.

"Yes, very bored."

"You could just take a class or two at Stanford," he quietly mentioned. "You say 3L is pretty much elective classes."

"Yes, most classes are. Sports Law, Entertainment Law. Maritime Law," she said, mentioning a few of the classes.

"Women's Law?"

Peg laughed slightly. "Yes, there are classes on that subject."

John got up to get another cup of coffee. He was already dressed for work and would be leaving in ten minutes. "Sweetheart, it's just an idea. It would give you something to do one or two days a week."

Peg appreciated her husband's advice. She was just uncertain whether she would have her heart into her studies or be able to concentrate on her studies. "I'll think about it."

"You do have...what, up to a month before the deadline for enrollment?"

"Yes, just about."

"What do you want to do? Find a job?" John asked as he looked at a kitchen clock.

Peg nodded her head. "Yes, I've been looking at the classifieds lately."

"Anything interesting?"

At the moment Peg was in a bit of a quandary. She had never worked a full-time job in her life. Yes, she had degrees, but it wasn't so simple to match up this with a job. Like in the legal profession. Peg wasn't a lawyer yet, so what kind of work could she get at a law office? Clerical was out, she typed thirty words a minute. A paralegal job was a possibility. "No, nothing yet."

John took this moment to give Peg a kiss. "I know you'll find something. Don't give up."

Five minutes later, John was on the way to work. Peg had another lonely day ahead of her.

*****

Saturday, December 9th

Dear Diary,

I have some sad news to share. Judy, one of the mothers in my email group, lost her daughter Leah on Thursday. Judy and Dotty were the last Moms in the group who still had a baby in the NICU other than myself.

Right now I feel very bad for Judy. I can only imagine the pain she is going through. The group moderator shared Judy's snail mail address with all list members. I plan on sending a card.

Today may be time for my first try at breastfeeding Benjamin. I'll let you know how it goes. Ciao!

*****

Monday, December 11th

Dear Diary,

I breastfed Benjamin for the first time. He took some time getting accustomed to it, but my little tiger was feeding well by last night. Now it's time for him to get well and strong so he can come home to be with his sisters and Mommies.

Talking about home, my helper Julie takes her nursing exam this Friday. So I finally have begun my Nanny search. Another local triplet Mom named Erin referred me to an agency out of San Fran. I should have candidates to interview by the end of the week or beginning of next week.

So much for me to do in the weeks ahead. I hadn't even been up to Mountain View till last Sunday since coming home. The place was a mess but that's what I expected. All I did while there was collect a few personal things and get a checkbook. I want to repay Veronica for some things she did for me.

In two weeks I'll have to visit Smith Barney before returning to work after the New Year's. The market is still in disarray due to the Shift.

I've got lots of work to do. What's new about that? Ciao!

*****

Tuesday, December 12th

Dear Diary,

Yesterday I had a bad experience with Sarah and Mariel. Let me explain what happened.

Veronica was working and Julie studying for her nursing exams. Since we needed some food, diapers, etc., I took the girls to the local Sam's Club to do our shopping.

I don't know what gets into people when they see multiples. First almost everyone wants to touch them as if they are public property. These people don't even ask first! With RSV I have to be careful.

Then there are the people who ask, "What drugs did you take?" or "Did you do Fertility?" Everyone wants to know your personal business.

I was out for an hour and it was a frigging nightmare. So last night I posted to Triplet Connection about my experience. It appears this is not unusual and some said I'd better get used to it. Used to it? Not in a million years!

Sorry to vent. Why am I saying sorry to you? Anyway, Benjamin is getting better at breastfeeding, but now I have more infants to feed than nipples. Anyone have a spare nipple out there I can buy or borrow?

Ha! Ha! See, I am still totally deranged. Ciao!

*****

"See you again next week, Mr. and Mrs. Wilson," said Tina Kendall, one of the counselors at Share Care. "Have a safe drive home."

"Thanks, Tina, we will," John said before he and his wife Peg left the office. The couple barely talked till they were in their car and leaving the Stanford University campus.

"Have a good session tonight?" John asked as he concentrated on driving.

Peg nodded her head. "Yes, I like talking about Chandler and what happened."

"I like coming here, too," John said in reply.

Peg stared out the car window with tears welling up in her eyes. So many things were on her mind. She appreciated the love and support her husband John gave her, but the mother felt equally lonely because of Chandler's death. This and the approach of Christmas made it a very emotional time for her. "I want us to keep going to Share Care. Don't you?"

John would have kissed Peg then if he wasn't too busy driving at the moment. Instead he squeezed his wife's left hand. "Absolutely. Tina mentioned us maybe going to group counseling beginning next year."

"I don't know if I'm ready for that."

John squeezed his wife's hand again. "That's all right, Peg, Tina wasn't rushing us at all."

"I know."

The couple had eaten dinner before going to counseling that evening. Nevertheless, John was beginning to feel hungry. "How would you like to stop and get an ice cream before going home?"

"Sure."

So Peg and John stopped at a Baskin Robins ice cream shop a few miles from their home. There the couple both got ice cream cones, Peg's with chocolate ice cream and John's with vanilla. The cones were eaten in the shop before the Wilsons left for the short drive home.

They were home shortly after 9 p.m. The first thing Peg did on arriving was kick off her shoes. The second thing the mother did was to begin to cry.

As soon as one enters the Wilson home that holiday season, you see a large Christmas tree. All Peg wanted for Christmas was to have her son Chandler back. Knowing that was impossible, the mother had begun crying.

John hugged his sobbing wife tightly. "Sweetheart, I love you."

*****

Wednesday, December 13th

Dear Diary,

Hanukkah begins on December 22nd. So yesterday I went out and got some small gifts for the children and Veronica. I also visited JC Penney and bought some new underwear. Sheesh, I didn't know women's underthings cost so much.

I got to discuss Christmas with Veronica. She and Rachel are Jewish, but I was raised Christian. Call me crazy (I know that's redundant by this point) but I've been thinking of celebrating both holidays for the children. Veronica may not agree, if she doesn't I'll abide by her decision.

Veronica was off yesterday. Poor thing continues to work her butt off with too little periods of rest. She did enjoy the day home with Mariel and Sarah. Benjamin is making slow but good progress.

I'm the only mother in my Mom's group with a baby still in the hospital. Sometimes I feel sorry for myself because of Benjamin and his ongoing health issues. It is so painful to leave LPCH every day with Benjamin still unable to come home.

Guess I just have to deal with it. Ciao!

*****

Sarah and Mariel had finally dozed off shortly after 1 p.m. later the afternoon of December 14th. For some reason I wasn't feeling sleepy myself, so I decided to look for something to keep me occupied.

I was about to turn the television set on for Law & Order when I heard the familiar sound of the mail truck passing by the house. With the children safely asleep, I decided to sneak out and grab the mail quickly. A lot of days I just left this for when Veronica would get home.

After getting the mail I went upstairs to check on the girls. Mariel and Sarah were sound asleep, so I quietly left them alone and instead went to the extra upstairs bedroom or den.

I placed that day's mail where Veronica normally placed it, on the room's roll-top desk. Having finished this I then began to leave the room. I was tired and decided that while the girls napped I should grab some shuteye, too.

But I didn't, instead I returned to the desk and the ever increasing pile of mail stacked on it. In the month and a half I had been living in Veronica's home I had distanced myself from Veronica's personal affairs. They were none of my business. What we shared was a home and caring for the children, and I didn't intrude into other aspects of Veronica's life.

The pile of mail didn't bother me. I knew Veronica was a busy woman between her residency and the children. When she was home, my friend was more often than not exhausted. Her procrastinating at doing some household or family matters was somewhat justified.

As a financial advisor I also knew what damage could occur if one didn't pay their bills in a timely manner. Creditors expected payment, they had a company to run. They were rarely sympathetic to one's personal travails. They just wanted to receive payment. Not receiving this, the creditor would quickly lose patience and take further action to collect what they were due. On top of this, one's credit rating can quickly be damaged by failure to pay one's bills.

A cursory glance at the pile showed more than one unopened envelope from one of Veronica and Rachel's creditors. Veronica didn't even work on the bills at the roll-top desk, but at a second computer desk in the room. She used Quicken or Microsoft Money I guess to keep track of her checking account.

I then asked myself - Should I do something to help out, or was I sticking my nose in where it didn't belong? I did neither, rather I glanced at a nearby wall clock. The time was 1:19 and Veronica hadn't called once that day. This didn't bother me, she was a busy woman.

Right then I began to yawn. Like Veronica I had to make a decision. Get some rest or work on some bills.

*****

Thursday, December 14th

Dear Diary,

She's broke!

You ask, who's broke? Did someone drop a coffee mug?

No, not that kind of break, dummy. Veronica is financially broke.

That's really an understatement. She is about three months from being out on the street. Clothes, possessions and babies, too. Why the hell didn't she tell me?

Oh hell, it's not my business, but I'm mother to Sarah, Benjamin and Mariel, too. This definitely affects their welfare. So why didn't Veronica mention it? What was the woman going to do about the children if I hadn't decided to take a part in their lives? She couldn't have cared for them and worked at the hospital. It's just impossible, and her measly paycheck isn't covering expenses now.

I'd like to kill someone at LPCH. Oh, not really, but I saw Veronica's paycheck stub for the first time ever today. What she gets paid is a joke. At forty hour weeks it would be a joke, at the eighty to one-hundred hours Veronica works, it amounts to slavery almost. I mean that.

I'm not mad at Veronica about her pay, that's not her fault. It's just aggravating like her financial condition is now to me.

Okay, I guess the woman has her pride. But what's the saying about pride comes before the fall? Veronica should have said something to me. Yes, I admit I was wrong prying into Veronica's affairs, but I've got the children to think of, too. Veronica's financial condition definitely affects them.

Well, that's past, and no use in harping on it. What good will it do, anyway? Right now we or rather I have to face up to settling this mess. I'm not mad at Veronica, annoyed maybe. On the other hand I'm pissed at Rachel's parents. I didn't investigate too deep deeply, but it seems they used to give Rachel a very nice allowance. Sometime after the Shift, this was cut off.

I'm shaking my head. Don't the Kleins give a flying leap anymore about what happens to their own grandchildren? What kind of narrow-minded morons are they? Dead or alive, Rachel would want them to look after her children and take part in their lives.

I almost felt like calling them today and screaming at them. It would have been a waste of breath. I am just so angry right now, I need somewhere to vent.

Well, I could always take a hammer to you. Then where will I go with my innermost thoughts? Heck, I'm Marcia Brady!

What did Michael Corleone say in The Godfather Part III? Something about wanting to get out but getting pulled back in? Heck, that's how I feel about now.

"Rachel, you know you're partly to blame. You could have left Veronica and the children last October..."

Yes, yes, I know. I got pulled or dragged into this mothering business. This I admit totally and I could have said no. But I've come to enjoy it, well except for the sleepless nights, the endless diaper changing, the stupid questions if we go outside.

"Admit it, you even like those."

Ha! The sleepless nights? You get two hours sleep my friend, and see how you feel. Heck, you're just a microchip. But I guess the good parts outweigh the bad. I mean, when I hold any of them, I can feel the love they have for me as their mother.

Let's get back to Veronica before I start crying. I got all her bills up to date. Or at least the ones I found, there may be more. Her one credit card is caught up, but there is still a balance. In all I did what needed to be done now and I did it without telling Veronica.

This is only a stopgap measure, however. Veronica has very little cash left, I probably don't even know half her expenses. By my calculations, she will out of money in four to five months, but it could happen earlier. There is just no way Veronica can maintain this house and take care of the children at the same time on her salary. Her residency is almost over but I don't think, and I could be wrong, that Veronica will make enough post-residency to make ends meet.

Why did these two women go and start a family without thinking things through? Okay, that isn't fair, no one knew that the shift was going to happen. Rachel had an account, I saw one statement showing a healthy bank balance. Unfortunately, Veronica has no access to it and I'm not the real Rachel Klein. This is just a frigging catastrophe.

"Calm down, Rachel, don't blow a head gasket."

What am I, a woman or a V8 engine? I've got reason to be pissed. And if I don't vent to you, to whom AM I going to vent? Answer that! Why do I talk to you, anyway?

Now I understand why Veronica has been putting off the nanny search. She didn't have the money. It's going to be up to me to pay for this man or woman, but what choice do we have? We'll need a nanny full-time by year end, and I want a good one.

It's more imperative than ever that I go back to Smith Barney next year, I need to bring in some income. Well, Veronica and I will be able to manage on both our incomes. The wise thing to do would be dump this house back in the laps of the Kleins and have Veronica and the children move into my Mountain View home.

I'm going to have a word with Veronica, but at a better time. Maybe on the 18th when she is off. She's too stressed or exhausted by her long work hours for me to bother her right away. But when we talk, it's going to be very frank. There is no way Veronica can make ends meet in regard to herself and the children. That means we're going to have to work something out much more long-term.

Looks like I'll be Mom Rachel for a long time. I really got suckered into this, but it was mostly events I couldn't control. I love Mariel, Sarah and Benjamin too much to turn my back on them. And I do care for Veronica, she has been too kind to me and didn't deserve what happened, either. It's not her fault.

End of today's vent. Ciao.

*****

Peg Wilson spent much of December 15th at Stanford University. She had taken John's advise and had gone to the University to enroll for at least one class in the spring term.

The first thing Peg checked was what classes she was still required to take. Then she made a check of the classes still available and the times they were scheduled for. This narrowed Peg's choices down to four. She wanted to leave Tuesdays free for the Legion of Mary at St. Martin's.

It was while standing in line to enroll for these selected classes that Peg had a change of heart. She still felt too unfocused in life to give the proper attention her law studies would require. So Peg got out of the line and returned to the Wilson home in Sunnyvale.

John got home that afternoon around 4:15. Peg immediately told her husband of the decision she had made. As always, he was both sympathetic and understanding.

"That's all right, sweetheart," John said, bending down to kiss Peg. She was seated at the kitchen table and was scanning that day's San Francisco Examiner when her husband got home from work. "When you're ready for Stanford, you go back. You've been through a great lot lately."

"We both have," Peg answered. "Thank you for being so understanding."

"What's a husband for?" John asked as he walked over to the refrigerator. Then he took a bottle out and poured himself a glass of water. "Still want to go out to dinner tonight?"

"Absolutely," Peg said, pushing the day's paper to the side. Later she or John would place it in one of two recycle bins in the home's garage.

"What do you prefer tonight? Steak or Italian?" John asked after finishing off the glass of water he had poured. The couple had discussed eating out earlier that day, but Peg was uncertain at that time about what type food she wanted for dinner that night.

Peg's reply was quick in coming, but not before she got up from the dinner table. "Italian is fine with me."

"Olive Garden it is, then," John replied as Peg got closer to him in the tight confines of the Wilson home's kitchen. When they got close enough, the couple each took the other's hand. "We'll go out about ten to five. Is that okay?"

"Yes, it is," Peg told John as she put a glass she had been using in the sink. That done, she turned around. John was so close to her and he had let go of her hand. Instead, now he wrapped his arms around his wife. Peg didn't fight it in the slightest, instead she let John slide her closer to him. "I love you."

John smiled back. "I love you, too." The couple then began to kiss. First a small peck, then a slightly bigger one. Then a deeper one, then a very deep one. Finally, the couple embraced in a deep lip lock that neither wanted to end.

It did end eventually. Almost winding down like it had begun with another slow series of kisses. For both Wilsons it had felt so good in addition to being much needed.

"I love you, Peg Wilson. You're the most beautiful woman I know."

Peg blushed. "I am?"

"Yes, you are. You're very good at makeup now, too."

"Really?"

"Yes, really," John replied, and the couple kissed again.

Finally the couple broke it up, Peg telling John she wanted to change clothes. At the time she was just wearing shorts and a pullover blouse. Before Peg exited the kitchen, John gave her a playful slap on the buttocks. In return he got a mock finger scolding from his wife.

John continued to watch Peg till she went into the master bedroom, closing the door behind her. All the time the former woman couldn't help but watch his wife's buttocks. It had such a nice feminine swivel to it. John wondered if Peg was putting a little hip action into her walk just for him.

'So close,' John thought as he went to the living room to take a seat. He'd wait there till his wife was ready to go out. Patience was key now as John waited, and pretty much ever since the Shift had happened so far as Peg was concerned. Life had been changed by the Shift and some of the changes had been easier than others.

John had never wanted to be a man, but now that was what he was and nothing would or could undo it. He had accepted his new fate in life. Peg had been much more stubborn in this regard. Even being dumb about it at times, John thought. Still, he had remained patient with his wife, even when there were times someone should have slapped some common sense into her.

The Wilsons had certainly been through a lot together. The worst being Chandler's death. One thing that had endured, was the couple still loved one another. The only thing missing was John and Peg hadn't consummated their love physically since their wedding day. Only moments ago the couple had gotten as close as they ever had and John was more than a little curious about how it would be.

John just stared at that week's Time magazine, as he waited for Peg. Patience was certainly the key right now in the couple's relationship and he'd continue down that path with Peg. When Peg was ready and only then would he take his wife to the next and obvious step.

Inside the Wilson master bedroom, Peg was also thinking about what had just happened between her and John. She couldn't help but feel blessed at how loving and patient John was with her. Peg also knew how unworthy she had been of this love and patience at times.

Peg was thinking of this and other things as she prepared to go out for dinner that night with her husband. Changing into a new set of clothes for the night was the easy part. She was just going to trade the shorts she was wearing for a pair of pants. Also included in Peg's visit to the master bedroom, was a visit to the bathroom where after urinating the mother went and washed her hands.

As Peg washed her hands she couldn't help but gaze at herself in the mirror. So much had happened in her life in the last few months. Womanhood, motherhood, then Chandler's death. Which was worse? No, that answer was easy, it was the death of her son. Right now Peg would give anything to have Chandler there.

Being the mother to a child and all that entailed. Even if she had never wanted to be that before. Chandler meant that much to her. The boy was her and John's flesh and blood. Peg asked herself not for either the first nor last time, if she would ever get over Chandler's death.

Then she thought of John again. He had been through his share of trauma also. John may act or appear strong, but Peg knew how much the death of Chandler tore at him also. They were just so lucky to have one another through this ordeal.

Peg smiled, John really did love her. HER was the keyword. It had to be equally confusing and annoying for John to have his sex changed by the Shift. Peg was just realizing it wasn't just her. It had to be unsettling to first be a woman in love with a man and then a man married to a woman.

That had been a major sticking point for Peg, too. She had the greatest difficulty reconciling her male mind to a female body. A lot of men turned women had the same problem after the Shift, some fought it by being gay or asexual. Others decided not to fight it, and just accept.

John had accepted. He also loved Peg very much. She loved John back, and if not pleased with what had happened, accepted that this was to be her fate now.

Was it so bad if she had John and he loved her? He even said she was beautiful. There was something else, too. John's body or namely his penis thought so, too. Peg had definitely noticed her husband's bulge when they had kissed and embraced in the kitchen.

"Everything okay in there, Peg?" John asked as he knocked on the bedroom door.

"Yes, I'll be out in a few minutes," she replied. Looking one last time at herself in the mirror, Peg remembered John's compliments from earlier. Now finished in the bathroom, she went straight to the master bedroom's closet.

It was 5:05 and fifteen minutes later than the planned departure time for the Wilsons to go to dinner, when Peg finally emerged from the bedroom. By now John had grown slightly impatient with his wife. At the moment he was pacing the house.

"Peg, sweetheart," John began to say as he turned around. His chin fell to the ground when he saw his wife. "You really look beautiful. What..."

"I just thought I'd get dressed up slightly for dinner," Peg replied to her surprised husband. In the bedroom the wife and mother had discarded her earlier clothing plans for the evening. Right now she was dressed in a white skirt, pink blouse and black heels. Peg recalled how attractive she thought John was in these clothes. That is, prior to the Shift. "You really like it?"

"Like it?" John asked with a slight chuckle. "I love it. You look so sexy."

'There he is again. What is holding you back, girl?' Peg thought as she and John began kissing again. The bulge was back, and Peg's body was reacting also. She was beginning to grow curious how it would feel when John one day made love to her. Yes, right then Peg was thinking about sex with her husband. "Thanks. Are we ready to go now?"

"Absolutely," John replied. Then taking each other's hand, the couple walked to the front door to exit the house. John locked the door behind them once they were outside. As they began the drive to Olive Garden, both John and Peg felt fortunate to have each other and that they'd always love one another. Sexual intercourse between the two would happen eventually, when they felt ready.

Both Peg and John would have probably been surprised by the other's thinking in regard to sex. Both were waiting for the other to make the first move.

*****

Sunday, December 17th

Dear Diary,

There is nothing worse than a child with an ear infection. I mean it.

It all began shortly after my last diary entry. The first sign was Sarah crying, the girl just wouldn't stop no matter how much I held her. The nights of the 14th and 15th were pure hell for both of us.

Early this morning I was about at the end of my rope. I noticed early yesterday that Sarah was showing signs of a temperature, so I brought her over to LPCH. Veronica was working 36 hours straight and met me in the emergency room.

To make a long story short, Sarah was discovered to have an ear infection. One so bad, her ear canal was almost totally blocked. Poor thing, the pressure from this must have been unbearable. A pediatrician at LPCH prescribed antibiotic eardrops plus baby Tylenol. It appears to be working, Sarah's temperature is down at least. She still cries quite a bit, Veronica was home last night to help out. I did manage to get a little sleep.

I've been in touch with that domestic help agency. On Tuesday I hope Veronica and I can interview a Mrs. O'Connor that has excellent references.

Still haven't talked to Veronica, but I will tomorrow. That's all, folks. Ciao!

*****

The time for Veronica and I to talk finally arrived on the afternoon of December 18th. Veronica was off that day, her shift ended at 7 a.m. I didn't burden her right away, instead saving it for later after my friend grabbed some sleep.

I woke up Veronica just before noon time, so I could go to LPCH to feed Benjamin and spend some time with him. It was a little past 1 p.m. when I got back. Going straight upstairs, Veronica was just exiting the nursery. She had just put Mariel and Sarah down for their naps.

"How is Benjamin?" Veronica asked in a whisper.

"Good. Did the girls fall asleep?"

Veronica nodded her head. "Yes, just a few minutes ago."

"Veronica, there is something we need to talk about. Mind if we go in the den? It will only take a few minutes," I said, and Veronica said sure.

A minute later Veronica and I were settled in the den. She was sitting on the couch/pull out bed while I said in the chair by the roll top.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" Veronica asked first.

I took a deep breath before proceeding. Veronica would have been well within her rights to be angry at my intrusion into her privacy. Nor did I want to sound defensive. This serious matter had been put off long enough. "Veronica, why didn't you tell me you were broke?"

The reaction I got from Veronica surprised me. It was a non-reaction, except for my friend hanging her head. She was ashamed.

I moved my chair closer to the couch. "Veronica, I'm your friend, I'm also co-parent to your three children. I'm not angry or anything, you should have just told me. It affects Sarah, Mariel and Benjamin and I need to know."

Tears began flowing down Veronica's cheeks. I got up from my chair and grabbed some Kleenex from a box on the roll-top desk. After giving these to Veronica, I sat myself back down. "I'm sorry if I invaded your privacy."

"You don't have to be sorry. I was wrong," Veronica said, speaking up for the first time. "I was ashamed to tell you."

I could tell Veronica was ashamed. She had been burdened with so many problems after the shift. They must have been overwhelming to her.

"It's past and done," I said, looking Veronica straight in the eye. "I went ahead and caught you up on all the bills I could find..."

"Thank you, thank you very much. I can't say it enough to you," Veronica replied, still looking ashamed.

"Veronica, don't be ashamed. I know this wasn't your fault but the real Rachel's parents. I really feel like telling them to-" I began to say.

"Don't, Matt," Veronica said, interrupting me. She still sometimes called me by my male name. "I don't want you to be angry with Rachel's parents. They are the babies' grandparents."

"Okay, Veronica, I won't," I replied. To make her happy I would just keep those feelings to myself. I was still angry with the Kleins. "But I need you to do something today. Check and make sure I have all bills that need being paid."

"I'll do that."

"Veronica, I know you've been through a lot, I'm not angry or anything. You had the loss of Rachel, worries about the children, plus me being an idiot way too often."

"No, you weren't an idiot."

"I was. Sometimes at least, and I should of have been more understanding as to your side of things."

Veronica just looked me in the eye without saying a word. By now she wasn't crying any more.

"Now our job is to take care of the children. You do want me to be co-parent with you?" I asked.

"Of course, Rachel, of course. You're important to the children, you're their mother."

I smiled. "So are you. We'll raise the children together till things improve," I said looking down at my hands. "That could be a few years or much longer."

"That's fine, Rachel. I can't thank you enough."

"It's okay, Veronica. We're in this for the children's sake, no matter how long that takes," I answered, and then laughed slightly. "Who knows, maybe we'll become close."

Veronica smiled. She had a very nice smile. "Yes, who knows."

For the next ten to fifteen minutes I outlined a plan I had been formulating for the last few days. If Veronica approved, I'd have her and the children move into my Mountain View home. My goal was to have this accomplished by February 1st, or fifteen days after Benjamin came home from LPCH.

To me it didn't make any sense to continue living where we were. There were several factors; first, the home was owned by Rachel not Veronica. My home in Mountain View was mine, I owned it free and clear. I had no mortgage, unlike Rachel. The home had a nice size yard for the children to play in when they got older, and while further from LPCH it was still only a 15-20 minute drive. Of course, expenses would be less with only one house to support. What I planned on doing was to mail the Kleins a certified letter describing our intention to move out by a certain date or, in other words, tell the Kleins the house was theirs.

Veronica's only objection was in regard to the Kleins. I softened this by saying we'd write the letter together and also include our Mountain View address. She wasn't bitter toward Rachel's parents, rather she wanted to leave the door open for them to have a part in the children's lives as their grandparents. I put aside my feelings and came to agree with Veronica.

We also talked finances. It was certain I'd be the principal breadwinner for a while, but I accepted that. Veronica's residency or slavery was almost over. Her salary would be increasing soon enough. When I got back to Smith Barney I'd open a money market account for us to co-manage our expenses. Veronica agreed, she was still sorry for not telling me of her financial problems and promised to be open in the future. I said that was all that I expected.

The last topic may have been the most important. "We need to talk about getting a nanny."

"Can we afford it?"

I nodded my head, and then picked up a folder on the desk. "It won't be cheap, but it's necessary and yes, we can afford it. The first week of January I am returning to work and we need that extra income. So we need to hire someone quickly. I've already contacted an agency and they sent me over the info on a few possibilities."

On top of the roll-top desk there was a blue folder. I picked this up and handed it to Veronica. "These are three possible candidates for our nanny position."

Veronica read through the short bios very quickly. The third one drew her immediate attention. "She is definitely...unique."

I knew which bio Veronica was reading. "Yes, she or he is, but I already checked some of her references out. This Mrs. O'Connor is very qualified. She has worked for two couples who had premature twins."

"Yes, that would certainly be useful," Veronica said as she continued to read.

"I talked to one of the mothers, her name was Elaine. She swears by Mrs. O'Connor, gives her a very complimentary reference."

"Why isn't Mrs. O'Connor working for these people anymore?"

"The first couple let her go when the twins went to Pre-K," I explained. "The second couple's husband got transferred by his work and they had to let her go."

"Okay. You can afford hiring her, can you?"

I nodded. "After I get back to Smith Barney I can."

"Okay."

"I was going to do the interview tomorrow. Could you come home for about an hour? I think we should both meet this Mrs. O'Connor."

Veronica paused for a moment. "I should be able to. I'll ask Dr. Holland as soon as I get in tomorrow."

"Veronica, I want us to be more open in the future, I'm going to be co-parenting the children with you for some time. That's if you want me to?"

"Rachel, I do want you. I'm just ashamed that you have to do all this for me," Veronica said glumly.

"Veronica, don't think like that. What happened to you financially wasn't your fault. Plus, I may have been a reluctant mother in the beginning but now I want a part in the children's lives. You're a part of that, being their Mom, too. I'm not going to turn my back on Mariel, Benjamin, and Sarah, and that goes for you, too."

Veronica sat silently for about a minute. "I can never thank you enough."

"You're welcome. We'll work things out in the future between us, but we have to communicate with each other," I said, and then got up from my chair. Neither of us were discussing and in my case at least thinking of the obvious. That maybe there was a future for Veronica and I as a couple. At the moment my mind was too focused on the girls and Benjamin's ongoing care to think about relationships. "Let's go and check on the girls."

"Absolutely," Veronica said as she rose from the chair. We then exited the den and went to the nursery.

Tuesday, December 19th

Dear Diary,

Veronica and I had a good talk about the present financial problems. With a few minor changes, my friend agreed to everything I proposed.

So we'll be moving to my Mountain View home within a month of Benjamin's homecoming. Still no clue as to when he's coming home, but the doctors say he's getting better.

I will be Mom Rachel for some time then. Probably long enough to hear me called that. My reward in the interim is twenty dirty diapers a day. Yesterday I counted twenty-one. Mariel was having a ball with me. First she pooped in her diaper and while I was changing that one, she decided it was time to pee. I should buy stock in Kimberly Clark.

Mrs. O'Connor is coming over to be interviewed today at 2 p.m. Veronica has arranged to get off of work at that hour so we can co-interview this nanny candidate.

Nothing else to report except Hanukkah starts tomorrow. Ciao!

The front doorbell rang a few minutes before two o'clock. Veronica was home at the time, having only arrived five minutes earlier. Sarah and Mariel were presently taking their afternoon naps.

Veronica and I both went to answer the doorbell. I was the one to open the door.

"Is this the Klein residence?" asked a very large African-American male in his early to mid twenties.

"Yes, it is," Veronica and I replied in unison. We had already been forewarned about Mrs. O'Connor's appearance. "You must be Mrs. O'Connor. Please, come on in."

"Yes, I am," said Mrs. O'Connor with a deep Scottish brogue.

After sitting down in the living room area and exchanging a few pleasantries, Mrs. O'Connor got right to business. "You are parents to triplets?"

"Yes, we are," Veronica answered. "Two girls, Sarah and Mariel, and a boy named Benjamin. They are two months old."

"Where are they right now?"

"Sarah and Mariel are upstairs taking their naps. Benjamin is still in the hospital, but we hope he'll be coming home within the next month," I explained.

Mrs. O'Connor listened thoughtfully as I gave him a rundown of Benjamin's medical woes. "God Bless him. Benjamin sounds like a wee little fighter."

Veronica and I both smiled while getting a little laugh out of Mrs. O'Connor's comment. "Thank you. Benjamin has been through quite a struggle."

"I can imagine," Mrs. O'Connor replied. In spite of his size, the man was very soft spoken. "At what hospital is the child being watched?"

Veronica answered this question. "Right here at Lucille Packard. That is where I work, also."

"Yes, I heard one of you was a physician. What field?"

"Pediatric Oncology."

"That's wonderful. It must be wonderful helping to make wee ones healthy again," Mrs. O'Connor replied. Both Veronica and I were already getting a good feeling about our nanny candidate.

The next thing to be discussed was Mrs. O'Connor's background. I along with Veronica was already familiar with his life due to the file we had gotten from the employment agency. Still, we preferred to hear it straight from Mrs. O'Connor's mouth also.

Mrs. O'Connor had not surprisingly been born in Scotland. He had immigrated to the United States a little over twenty years earlier when his now late husband Steven went to work for nearby Lawrence Livermore Laboratories.

"Steven, bless his soul, died in 1994. Multiple Sclerosis was the cause," Mrs. O'Connor explained.

"We're so sorry," Veronica told her.

"It's quite all right," Mrs. O'Connor said back with no apparent grief. She was obviously past that stage. "He is now with our son and the Lord up in heaven."

"Your son died?" I asked a little uneasily.

"Yes, Steven died of leukemia when he was nine. He was my only child," Mrs. O'Connor again said without any outward grief. Then the nanny candidate got the interview refocused. "I don't think we're here to talk about any losses in my life."

Veronica took Mrs. O'Connor's cue. "You worked for the Moores, a couple that had twins?"

Mrs. O'Connor nodded. "Yes, David and Elaine. A very nice couple. Their children Scott and Melanie were very delightful, and I enjoyed caring for them."

"The Moores spoke very kindly of you. Ellen was most complimentary, says the children still speak about you or ask where you are," Veronica said.

"I miss them also," Mrs. O'Connor replied.

The interview now consisted of talking about Mrs. O'Connor's experiences with the Moore children and what I and Veronica wanted her to do as our children's nanny.

"I believe children need organization and discipline. A child can grow and be free, but there is also a need for standards or rules."

Both Veronica and I got what Mrs. O'Connor was saying, but the children were still infants at this point. "The girls and Benjamin are still newborns."

"They are premature babies," Mrs. O'Connor commented. "Scott and Melanie were much the same. Only born at 34 weeks."

"Yes, Ellen told me that," I mentioned.

"A clean house is important, then. The wee ones mustn't get ill from germs."

"Yes. Rachel and I are busy, but try our best to keep the home clean."

The interview went on for another ten minutes before I got up and excused Veronica and myself. Once we were in the kitchen, I spoke up. "What do you think?"

"Hire him," Veronica immediately answered. We then went back to the living room. A few more details would have to be worked out, but Sarah, Mariel and Benjamin would soon have a nanny.

Wednesday, December 20th

Dear Diary,

We hired Mrs. O'Connor. Yesterday afternoon Veronica and I interviewed the woman. Make that the man. Mrs. O'Connor looks like an NFL linebacker.

Well, that's not important. He's very qualified for the job and has been a Nanny for another couple with premature multiples. He is knowledgeable, flexible and made a good impression on both of us. His first day will be next Tuesday, the 26th. I've got to go in to the office on Thursday next week, but just that one day. My being home with Mrs. O'Connor will help get her up to speed on the girls and their routines.

What routines, they're newborns?

You know, eat, pee, cry, sleep, poop, cry repeat. It never ends. I just want to be around the first few days Sarah and Mariel are with Mrs. O'Connor.

A lot of details were worked out. Mrs. O'Connor's salary I'll pay via the agency we hired him through. He'll be off every Sunday and every other Saturday. With Benjamin still in the hospital, I asked if Mrs. O'Connor could help out more. He understood and will work Sunday afternoons till Benjamin is home. Veronica and I both appreciate this flexibility.

Mrs. O'Connor knows about the eventual move to Mountain View, and has no problem with it. He is also a stickler for cleanliness. Guess I will have to do more dusting. LOL, but the children need a clean home. Their immune systems are not as strong as full-term babies.

Talking about Mountain View, yesterday was the first time in ages that I thought of Lilah. I wonder how she is doing.

Benjamin is still getting stronger, but no sign of him coming home yet. He weighs less than five pounds, Veronica said he won't be home till he weighs in over five. I guess we still have a few weeks or even another month left. It's not easy having children at home and a baby in the NICU.

It's still Hanukkah here. Weather is getting very cool at night time. The fog was terrible yesterday morning. Nothing else to report. Ciao!

"Hello, Margaret."

"Hello, Grandpa," Peg said, coming over to kiss her paternal grandparent. They hadn't seen one another in a few years. "How are you?"

"It's been a long time."

"Yes, it has," Peg commented.

"You've changed."

"Yes, I did."

"And got married, I see."

"John is very nice."

"I know. You have a son Chandler, too."

Peg didn't say anything. She just looked straight ahead at her grandfather.

"Chandler is here with me. Look."

Peg looked just to the right of her grandfather. A crib that wasn't there earlier was now present. Inside it was a newborn baby boy dressed all in white. The baby was Chandler.

"Chandler," was all Peg said.

"Yes, Chandler. I've been taking care of him for you and John."

"Thank you, Grandpa," Peg replied, still gazing at her sleeping son in the crib.

"Why don't you sit down and hold Chandler for a while."

Right then a rocking chair appeared next to the crib. Peg sat down in the chair, but not before first taking Chandler from his crib. As soon as she was settled in the chair, Chandler began to wake up.

"Chandler loves his Mommy," Grandpa told Peg.

"Yes, and I love him. I love you, Chandler," Peg told her son who started to get a little fidgety in her arms, but this soon passed. As she began to rock back and forth she swore Chandler smiled at her.

Gently kooing and or singing to Chandler, Peg rocked back and forth in the chair. Back and forth, back and forth...

Peg woke from her dream with a start. The dream seemed so realistic, even if her grandfather had died four years earlier. Were Chandler and Grandpa talking to her in that dream? Was Grandpa really taking care of his great grandson?

As Peg looked at the bedside clock that read 4:13 in the morning, the mother really did think she was being communicated to in the dream. As she put her head back down to go to sleep again, Peg only hoped she dreamed of Chandler more often. Then the mother cried herself back to sleep.

Sunday, December 24th

Dear Diary,

Merry Christmas. It feels odd not celebrating Christmas here. Don't get me wrong, I went along willingly with Veronica on this. She is Jewish, so is the real Rachel. I'm not particularly religious in the first place. But I'm finding Hanukkah interesting and enjoyable. It's just weird not having a Christmas tree around the house.

Kind of slow right now, and not much to report except for last week's dirty diaper total. One hundred and thirty-one. Oi Vei! Ciao.

It was 6:23 on Christmas morning and John Wilson was feeling a strong need to pee. So the man began to get out of bed. When he did so, John noticed his wife Peg wasn't in the bed. The night before the Wilsons had attended Midnight Mass at St. Martin's. Mass didn't end till after 1 a.m., that meant neither John or Peg had gone to bed till shortly after 2 a.m.

John was half asleep as he made his way to the toilet. As he passed by the bedroom door, he heard sounds from outside. He recognized what the sound was immediately, so he quickened his pace to the bathroom. After doing his business and washing his hands, John left the master bedroom.

Just outside the bedroom, Peg was seated on the living room couch. She was visibly crying and a box of Kleenex was next to her. The sound of his wife weeping was what John had heard on his way to the bathroom.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" John asked as he sat down alongside Peg. At the same time he wrapped his right arm around his wife.

Peg continued to weep and didn't answer her husband's question for nearly a minute. "I miss Chandler so much."

"Me too, sweetheart," John replied as he hugged Peg closely and gently kissed her on the cheek. Still the mother cried. "I love you very much."

"Love you, too. I wish Chandler was here. That's all I would want for Christmas."

John knew exactly what Peg meant. This Christmas had been a hollow one for both of them, neither feeling particularly cheerful. Yes, the couple attended Christmas Mass, and put up a Christmas tree in the home. Later today they would have dinner at Peg's parents. In reality both John and Peg were going through the motions for the holidays.

"Me too, Sweetheart, me too," John said as he gently kissed his wife again. Then he tried cheering up Peg. "Chandler is here with us. Flying around the room or maybe sitting on your shoulder kissing his Mommy."

Peg didn't reply. She just continued to weep.

"I love you," he told Peg once again. He didn't say anything more, John just continuing to hug his wife. No words were going to console the grieving mother. Sometimes being present but silent for one another was all the couple could do for the deep grief they both shared.

Tuesday, December 26th

Dear Diary,

A late report for today. Veronica is working all day and the girls are now asleep. Not too late to write about the day's events.

Mrs. O'Connor spent her or his first day with the girls. I'm already impressed. He came at 8 o'clock sharp and ready to work. He really did just that, he rarely let the children out of sight and almost always just to do some job or errand related to Mariel and Sarah's care. I really think this is the way he always will work, not just because I was around today. The girls seemed happy with the care, too. Well, at this age it is kind of hard to tell.

The singing. You heard me right, Mrs. O'Connor sang to the girls. In a deep bass baritone that I thought would either make Sarah and Mariel cry or move the walls. Neither happened. It was quite a sound and sight. I just know Veronica and I made the right choice regarding a nanny.

Tomorrow I go in to Smith Barney. They are expecting me, and I'll spend most of the day just getting up to speed with my clients and work. My first real day back to work will be January 2nd.

I wish I didn't have to go back to Smith Barney. Right now I would rather stay home and go to LPCH to see Benjamin, but I guess I have no choice. Veronica and I need the income. I could rearrange my investments to provide more income, but this is a terrible time to sell. The market is still over 50% down from where it was before the Shift.

That's all. Ciao!

I got to the parking lot for the office building where Smith Barney was at just a few minutes short of 8:30 on Wednesday, December 27th. After climbing out of the Suburban, I opened the rear passenger door directly behind the driver's seat. I took a small gym bag out of the car, then locked up and began walking to the office. It was a bright and pleasantly cool California morning.

The front door to Smith Barney was locked, so I had to use my keys to open the door. I was kind of surprised they still worked. It wouldn't have shocked me if the locks had been changed since my last visit, but they hadn't. The first thing I noticed was, the office was lit so I wasn't alone. Closing and locking the door behind me, I made my way into the office.

There was one other thing I noticed on entering. The sound of someone talking. I made my way past the reception area to my back office, but first I stopped at the office from which the sound was coming.

Fellow stockbroker and officer manager Elaine was busy talking on the phone. Seeing she was busy, I just waved to her.

"Hi, Matt, err...I mean, Rachel," Elaine said after putting a hand over the phone.

"Hello, Elaine, I didn't want to interrupt."

"No problem. You still have the same office. Let me finish this phone call and I'll be over there in a few minutes."

I told Elaine no problem, and then went back to my office. Almost five months had passed since I had last been there, but as soon as I turned on the light in the room I noticed nothing had changed. I even began to wonder if the office had been used in the interim.

The first thing I did was to begin getting myself organized. Placing the gym bag on my desk, I began to empty its contents. The first things I took out were lunch and some bottled water and juice to drink at work that day. I put all of these in the small mini fridge next to my desk.

Actually, the mini-fridge was something new about the office. It had another and more important purpose. This was indicated by the next thing out of the gym bag, my breast pump. So to be able to work and feed the children, I'd need to pump while at the office. I placed the pump in my bottom desk drawer. The two containers I would use to store milk would stay in the bag till I needed them. They were too bulky for the drawer.

The next items were to make the room homey. I had brought two picture frames. One had a picture of Benjamin and the other was a picture of Veronica holding Mariel and Sarah. I positioned these one on the right and other on the left side of the desk, both facing me.

While doing that I removed one picture frame already there. It had a picture of Lilah in it. I disposed of this in the trash can next to my desk, but not before faking a punch at the face of my ex-girlfriend.

The last things out of my bag were a legal pad and a small phone book. I'd be using the first to take some notes regarding my clients. The latter was so I had the phone numbers for LPCH and the NICU, Veronica, doctors for the children and such. I really did have Mommy brain now. Remembering phone numbers was now a chore for me.

Placing the gym bag below part of the desk, I then turned on my office computer. Sitting down at my desk, I began to read the papers that had been placed there for me.

The first was a memo from Elaine. It welcomed me back and told me of my new screen name and temporary password for the computer, along with Smith Barney's office software.

User ID - Rachel K Password - Barney

I laughed for a moment at the password. Was Elaine making fun of my being a mother? Barney the purple dinosaur was a favorite of schoolchildren. My second guess was probably the right one. Barney probably referred to Smith Barney.

In the end I kept the screen name, but changed passwords. The rest of the paperwork was mostly forms related to my employment. There had to be at least five pages of these waiting to be filled out.

I had begun filling out these forms when Elaine knocked on the door. "Welcome back."

"Thanks," I replied, putting down my pen as Elaine took the seat in front of me. "It's good to be back."

"How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good, I can't complain."

"How are the children?" Elaine asked. I told her the girls were fine but then gave a lengthier explanation concerning Benjamin. My boss was a mother of two herself, and seemed to empathize with my current situation regarding Benjamin. "I'm so sorry."

"It's all right. Benjamin should be coming home soon. The doctors just won't say when. Thank you for the mini fridge in the room."

"No problem, Rachel."

"I'm breastfeeding the children," I told Elaine. She looked back at me in apparent awe of me working and breastfeeding three kids at once. Not for the last time, I wondered if I had gone totally insane. "I'll be needing to pump in here at times during the day."

"That won't be a problem. Just tell Carmen outside what you're doing so you can have privacy."

I wasn't so much concerned by my coworkers. We were all women now, whereas the office was equally split three and three before the shift. Carmen, Elaine and everyone would understand or should. I just didn't want clients barging in unannounced.

That reminded me. I wouldn't have to tell anyone to put the toilet seat down. Elaine and I both had a busy day ahead of us, it was time for the conversation to turn to business.

"You got the forms and memo I left you," Elaine said.

"Yes, I did. I already signed on to the computer."

"That's good. Any problems or questions with the forms?"

I shook my head. "No, everything looks straightforward. I came in today to get these filled out and get up to date on some of my clients."

"You don't start till Tuesday," Elaine said as I scribbled a few reminders on my legal pad. "Stay till whatever time you need or want to today."

"I think I'll be leaving sometime between one and two. After work I've got to stop and see Benjamin on the way home. Before I go I'll make sure all the forms are filled out and I'll return them to you."

Elaine briefly smiled as she got up out of the chair across. "I'll be waiting for them. I've got some things to do. Maybe we'll talk later."

"Bye, Elaine," I said to my boss as she exited my office. One thing was certain, there were a lot of things or rather work for me to do that day.

I got home around 2:45 that afternoon. On the way home I visited Benjamin and did an afternoon feeding. Almost immediately afterwards my son had fallen back asleep. Seeing no need to stay further, I left LPCH for the short drive home.

As soon as I entered the house I called for Mrs. O'Connor. Surprisingly, I got no answer. I didn't panic, there had to be an explanation. Soon enough my ears provided it. A muffled or unknown sound was coming from upstairs. I went there to investigate.

What I found made me smile. Mariel and Sarah were sound asleep in the nursery's crib. Next to them and seated in the room's rocking chair was Mrs. O'Connor. He was also sound asleep. In addition, the man was snoring very loudly. That was the sound I had heard from downstairs.

I gently shook Mrs. O'Connor in hope of waking him without getting throttled in the process. "Mrs. O'Connor."

My children's nanny woke up almost immediately. The man stretched slightly as his eyes came to focus directly. "Good afternoon, Miss Klein. I must apolo...."

I interrupted Mrs. O'Connor. "Mrs. O'Connor, you don't have to apologize." It didn't bother me in the least that he had fallen asleep while watching the children. The girls were asleep, after all, and Mrs. O'Connor was in the room if needed. Besides, there was an air of safety in the room if such a thing existed. No one would do any harm to Sarah or Mariel with such an imposing presence in the room.

"But I must. I shouldn't have been sleeping while caring for the wee ones," Mrs. O'Connor said insistently as he got up from the rocking chair.

You know I always get a laugh when Mrs. O'Connor refers to the children as 'the wee ones'. He was quite a character in addition to being an excellent nanny. I therefore waved off the man's remark about sleeping on the job. "Mrs. O'Connor, I've done the same thing myself. How are the girls?"

"Doing splendidly. I fed each at noon time and changed their diapers. They went back to sleep right afterwards."

I gazed down at my two daughters. Both were sleeping now, and I had already learned to let sleeping newborns be. "I stopped at Packard on the way home and checked on Benjamin."

"And how is the boy doing?"

"Getting stronger every day."

Mrs. O'Connor began to tell me about the girl's day, but we were soon interrupted by Mariel. She had woken up and had begun to cry. Checking the newborn's diaper I found it to be clean. That left only one other reason for the crying. Mariel was hungry. A check of the wall clock showed the time to be almost 3 p.m. It was indeed time to feed my daughters.

With Mrs. O'Connor's help we transferred both Mariel and Sarah to the upstairs den. This was where I usually fed the girls and had a special table set up to do just that. With Mrs. O'Connor's help I soon had both Mariel and Sarah tandem feeding, each sucking on one of my breasts at the same time. It was good to be home.

Friday, December 29th

Dear Diary,

Today is the last day of Hanukkah. I got gifts for the girls, all are clothes I bought when out on Wednesday. Right now I think Sarah and Mariel have enough dolls and stuffed bears.

Smith Barney went well on Wednesday. I just miss being away from the children. Mrs. O'Connor continues to be a godsend.

Benjamin continues to get better. He's a pro at his feedings and weighs almost five pounds now. That's low for his age but not surprising with all he's gone through.

One bit of news - Nancy had a baby girl on the day after Christmas. Her name is Olivia Michelle. I like that name. I'll get Nancy and Jack a card and mail it. After the New Year holiday I'll give Nancy a phone call also to see how she is doing.

I guess that covers everything. Ciao!

Peg Wilson had just gotten up from the living room couch and was heading to the den, when her husband John came in from the house's garage. "Sweetheart, I got the garage all cleaned up."

"Thanks," Peg told her husband as he came over to kiss her. He was off from work due to the Christmas holiday and catching up with some household chores and repair work.

An interesting change or development was ongoing regarding John. Since winter recess began, the man had begun to grow a beard and moustache. At first Peg objected, but now came to appreciate it. Mostly because she had come to the conclusion it made her husband look more handsome.

The day after Christmas, Peg told John of her change of mind. She just asked her husband to keep his facial hair neat, short and well trimmed. He promised to do just that.

"See anything interesting?" John asked, pointing to the newspaper Peg was holding.

"Yes, one advertisement," she explained as John kissed her again, her face getting scratched if that was the right word, by her husband's still growing facial hair in the process. The beard and moustache took a little getting used to when the couple kissed, but Peg felt this was a small sacrifice compared to how handsome the facial hair made John look. "I thought I'd print out my resume and apply for it."

John smiled. "What type of work is it?"

"A teaching job."

John was a little surprised by Peg's answer. "I hope you get it."

"Thanks," Peg said while walking to the den and turning on the family computer.

"Sweety, if it's all right, I'll go get the Toyota's oil changed," John said as he grabbed a jacket out of the foyer closet. It was a cool December morning. "The car is almost ready for one and I thought I'd get it done now. Do you mind?"

Peg shook her head as the computer continued to warm up. "No, go ahead. Just drive safely please."

"I will," John replied, and then came over and gave her one last kiss. After saying goodbye, he left the house.

About two minutes later Peg had her resume up on the computer screen. What she wanted to do was type a short cover letter specifically for the job for which she was applying. What was the job for which she was applying?

To be a Pre-K teacher at a private school in nearby Los Gatos.

Sunday, December 31st

One day till 2001. What a year 2000 was. It is very unlikely I will be up to midnight. Veronica is working an overnight at LPCH, though, so she would be up, but probably not free to celebrate.

Not too much to report except some sad news. Judy the triplet Mom on my mailing list quit our group. She said it wasn't personal, just that the list reminded her too much of her daughter Leah who died. I understand Judy's thinking, but wish she would have stayed on the list.

Mrs. O'Connor will be here around noontime. I'll go to LPCH to see Benjamin then. Ciao!

Monday, January 1, 2001

Dear Diary,

Happy New Year! For Auld Langs Syne...

Okay, I won't quit my day job. As I predicted, I didn't even make it up to midnight last night. I hit the sack around 10:30.

Sarah slept through the night two of the last three nights. When all three start doing this, my life will be a whole lot easier.

2001 will be my first full year of womanhood. No sign of my period yet, but I did get to experience childbirth in 2000.

Nothing much new to report. Tomorrow I go back to Smith Barney, Sarah and Mariel are both little darlings. Veronica is still working her butt off but her residency is almost over. Benjamin is doing well. I hope he'll be coming home soon.

Happy New Year again. Ciao!

It finally happened the evening of New Year's Day.

John and Peg hadn't done much celebrating either on New Year's Eve. They had been invited to several celebrations but had declined. Instead, they had spent a quiet evening with one another watching a Saturday Night Live repeat on the Comedy Channel and then the countdown to 2001. By 12:30 p.m. the couple was fast asleep.

The rest of 2001's first day was little different than any normal Sunday or holiday. John and Peg attended mass in the morning and then spent much of the afternoon at the home of Peg's parents. There Peg and Lisa talked a great deal. Mostly about how Lisa's pregnancy was going.

After having dinner with Peg's parents, the Wilsons left for home. First thing they did on arrival was get ready for bed by using the bathroom. Once this task was finished the couple watched television for approximately an hour before retiring to the bedroom.

Peg was pretty exhausted by this time and was ready to go to sleep. John however still needed to unwind, so he read in bed for about twenty minutes before turning off the light to go to sleep.

Finally feeling unwound enough, John turned off the bedside light, got comfortable underneath the sheets and comforter and tried to go to sleep.

The first thing he did was cozy up to Peg. First he kissed his wife softly on the neck and then whispered into his wife's ear, "I love you."

"Love you, too," she said sleepily, and then closed her eyes in order to go to sleep again. John then proceeded to gently wrap his arms around Peg as he tried to fall asleep also.

It wasn't long before John began snoring. This made it impossible for Peg to sleep, so she spoke up again. "Honeybuns?"

"Yes, Sweetheart?"

"I'd like to go to sleep."

"Oh, was I snoring?"

Peg half turned around in bed. She wasn't quite facing John, but more like lying on her back. "Yes, you were."

"I'm sorry," John said with a shy smile, though Peg probably didn't see it. "Good night. I love you."

"Good night, and I love you, too," Peg replied, and then the couple began to kiss. Slowly at first, but growing in intensity with each peck. Much like the time over a week earlier in the Wilson family kitchen. As they kissed, John slowly began to fondle her buttocks. She didn't mind in the slightest, remembering how her husband liked that part of her anatomy.

However, there was one BIG difference between now and that day in the kitchen. It was John's penis. It had to be full size and ready to explode given the right circumstances. It was also where it was pointing. At Peg's thigh, rather than at her buttocks like before. Not just her thigh, but close to Peg's vulva and entrance to her vagina.

Finally Peg couldn't resist any longer. As their longest kiss ended, she spoke up. "John, Honeybuns, make love to me."

John just smiled in reply without saying a word. Both Wilsons got out of bed then and removed all their clothes. Peg placed her clothes on the nearby night stand. John just allowed his clothes to puddle on the floor. Later on Peg would tell her husband how he was already acting like a typical guy when it came to sex.

Peg wasn't thinking of any of this when the couple got back on top of the bed. Not under the sheets, but directly on top of them. All Peg wanted to happen now was for John to make love to her. To have his penis inside her. It wasn't just curiosity but a deep sexual arousal she was feeling now.

Once in bed, Peg laid flat on her back in anticipation of what she was about to do with her husband. Instead, John began kissing his wife in places he had never kissed her before. Peg liked this, but that wasn't what she wanted now. Foreplay was all well and good. So in a minute or a little less, she gave her husband a direct order. "Honeybuns, make love to me. NOW!"

John got the message all right, and Peg immediately spread her legs to welcome her husband's penis to penetrate her. A moment later she winced slightly as her husband's penis entered her. It felt natural and even better for Peg. She felt pleasure from John being inside her.

All of nearly two hundred pounds of John Wilson was top of Peg. A male penis was inside her, and this was where they both wanted to be. After placing his arms beneath Peg as to cradle her, John began to ride his wife or make love to her.

Climax soon arrived for John and Peg. The first warning was the increasing strength of John's penis and the Peg feeling increasingly aroused. Their breathing became heavier but shorter. Then within a minute of when they started, John's penis started pressing instead of getting stronger. As it did, Peg began to feel sperm pour inside her. This caused her vaginal muscles to contract repeatedly. Both Wilsons had reached orgasm.

John's lovemaking slowly ebbed and then soon stopped. At the same time Peg tingled from head to toe as goose bumps covered her entire body. John was now still on top of his wife but motionless. "You all right, Sweetheart?"

"I love you," Peg said in reply. Right about then John's penis withdrew itself from her vagina.

John rolled off the top of his wife and fell back first onto the bed beside her. Peg moved in closer so to lay her head on his chest. "Thank you."

"Did you like it?" John asked as he kissed her on the forehead.

"Yes, very much," Peg replied. She did like it, and was still glowing from the experience. It had felt wonderful to be loved by John. She had needed it both physically and emotionally. She just wished now that she hadn't waited so long to do it. "I love you."

"Love you, too," John told her. Not putting their clothes back on, the Wilsons tried going to sleep.

Wednesday, January 3rd

Dear Diary,

I returned to work at Smith Barney yesterday. Not surprisingly it was a crazy day. I had and still have so much to catch up on. The stock markets are showing some signs of recovery, from what I hear from last October the office was on the verge of panic. Being on bedrest may have had its advantages.

You know something? I had the most difficult time concentrating yesterday. Some moms joke that you become dumber or more forgetful when they are pregnant or after giving birth. I wonder if it's true. I did miss being home with the girls or at the NICU with Benjamin. They rarely weren't on my mind all of yesterday.

I'm really turning into a mother, aren't I? No, the hammer isn't anywhere nearby.

"You are."

I guess I am. It's not that I worry for the girls, Mrs. O'Connor is fantastic and very protective. I just wonder what they are doing without me and if the children miss me.

Still no update on when Benjamin will come home. The NICU keeps saying soon, that's all. They don't like to give dates or estimates. Veronica explained all of this to me. But the most important news is Benjamin continues to get strong, he's got feedings down to perfection. I know it won't be long.

With me back working my diary entries will be shorter and less frequent. Will you miss me? Nah, you're just a microchip. Ciao!

John was getting dressed for the first day of school for 2001 when his wife Peg entered the master bedroom.

"Honeybuns, can I ask you something?"

"Absolutely, Sweetheart," John answered back as he tied his neck tie. "Something wrong?"

What Peg did next surprised her husband. She pulled down the shorts and panties she was wearing. "Am I starting my period?"

John stepped up closer to look. "Yes, I think you are. I'll show you what to do now."

Peg was grateful for John's help. She really knew next to nothing about menstrual cycles or what women did when that time of the month was upon them. That was pretty typical for an unmarried man. All Peg knew was some women used a tampon and some used pads. Some women used a combination of the two. Since the Wilsons had never lived together before getting married, Peg was clueless as to what John had done prior to the shift.

The process of Peg learning what to do took five minutes or a little less. First she got new panties to wear. The next step was a visit to the bathroom closet. On the back of the bottom shelf was a half used box of sanitary napkins.

"You'd better get more of these," John told Peg as he opened a sanitary napkin up. "I used to use about a full box every time I got my period."

"Okay. I was planning to go to the store this morning anyway," Peg replied. "You didn't use a tampon, I guess?"

"No, I never did."

The rest of the instructions were pretty simple. John showed Peg how one placed the napkin in one's panties. Peg watched, seeing how simple it was. Then she took the panties from her husband and put them on. "I think I know what to do now. Thank you."

John and Peg then shared a brief kiss. "You're welcome."

"I guess I really am a woman now."

Right then John couldn't prevent himself from chuckling at what Peg said. There were a couple of reasons. First it reminded John of when he was once a teenage girl. Either the first appearance of a girl's breasts starting to bud, or having one's first period signaled womanhood to a girl.

The second reason was Peg's 'awakening'. The way Peg had said she was a woman now, the tone was tinged with a hint of amazement. Or at least that was how John had heard it.

Since the shift she had both been pregnant and given birth to Chandler. And then here she is saying she is really a woman now. Like, Duh, you finally noticed.

"Why are you laughing?" Peg asked.

John quickly decided he'd give her the first reason, not the second. Chandler's death wasn't something either parent found funny at all. "What you just said. You sounded like a teenager."

"Why do you say that?" Peg asked, and then he explained. As she listened, a smile formed on Peg's face. "I sound and look like a teenager to you?"

"A little," John told his wife before kissing her again. "You look as young as one. I mean as pretty."

Peg blushed at her husband's compliment. "I'd better stop distracting you then. You've got to leave for work."

On the way out to the kitchen Peg thought of her period as just another nuance of womanhood. As long as she was loved by John, Peg knew she would find womanhood enjoyable.

Thursday, January 4th

Dear Diary,

Nothing much to report. Except I swear Sarah smiled at me yesterday. Veronica says its too early for that and said it was probably gas. Gas, hell, Sarah loves her Mom Rachel.

Both Sarah and Mariel slept through last night without waking. Praise be to God for small miracles. I can get six hours of straight sleep at night now.

That's it for today. Ciao!

Peg Wilson had just gotten home from Friday morning mass when the phone began to ring. Putting her purse down on the kitchen table, she went over and picked up the wall phone across from the refrigerator.

"Hello?"

"May I speak to Margaret Wilson, please?"

"This is she speaking."

"Hello, Mrs. Wilson, my name is Janice Corcoran. I am the principal of Los Gatos Christian school."

Peg was both excited and surprised by the phone call. This was about the job she had seen in last week's newspaper. Peg had only mailed her resume the previous Friday. It surprised her to get a phone call so soon. If at all.

"Hello, Mrs. Corcoran, you must have gotten and read my resume."

"Yes, I did. That was why I was calling. I'd like you to come in for an interview."

Peg could barely conceal her excitement now. "I'm available any time that is convenient for you."

There was a slight pause before Janice Corcoran came back with, "Is 10 a.m. Monday morning good, then?"

"Yes, that's fine."

"We'll see you Monday, then. Goodbye, Mrs. Wilson."

Peg said goodbye before hanging up the phone. She was so excited about this interview she wanted to scream. Instead she paid a visit to the bathroom. While there she changed sanitary napkins. Her period was still going and quite strong. At least the cramps were gone, Peg thought. She was learning not every nuance of womanhood was enjoyable.

It wasn't till John got home that he learned of his wife's good news. That got Peg a second and longer passionate kiss. "Congratulations, I hope you get it."

"Me, too. It is so close. Just in Los Gatos."

"So you're going to be a teacher like me?" John smiled as his wife went back to preparing dinner for the evening.

"Yes, but this is only a temporary job. That's what it said in the advertisement."

"That's still good," John said as he came up behind her and began kissing the back of his wife's neck. This both covered Peg's body with goose bumps plus made it hard to concentrate on tossing a salad for that night's dinner. "You can go back to Stanford in the fall then."

"Yes, I can," Peg replied. There it was again. John's penis, strong and pointing at her butt. If not for dinner on the stove, she may have asked her husband to make love to her right then. The couple had only done it the one time. Peg's period had intervened and she hadn't been in the mood the last two nights. Right now Peg was definitely IN THE MOOD.

"We'll go out and see the movie tonight," John said as he let go of Peg. "We can celebrate tonight."

"I haven't gotten the job yet."

"You're right."

"I am," Peg said as she temporarily stopped preparing. She turned around and wrapped her arms around John's neck. Then in a seductive tone of voice, she said, "Let's still celebrate LATER."

"Whatever you want." The couple then began to kiss.

Friday was a TGIF for me. I was out of Smith Barney less than five minutes after the markets closed for the day.

I didn't go straight home. Instead I stopped at LPCH to see Benjamin. He was still in the level III part of the NICU. I breastfed my son and spent approximately an hour with him before I left the hospital for the short ride home.

Veronica got home at 7:15 that night. The first thing we did was peek in on the girls. Both were just starting to go to sleep. Just before leaving for the day, Mrs. O'Connor and I had given Sarah and Mariel their daily baths. Now both girls were ready for bed and Veronica and I decided to let them sleep.

Back downstairs, Veronica and I talked about our respective days as we ate beef stew for dinner. It had been made by Mrs. O'Connor and was delicious.

"I saw Dr. Stiles today," I said after drinking some water. "He says Benjamin is gaining weight."

"Yes, two ounces this week so far."

"I wish Benjamin was home. It's so hard to leave him there every day."

"Rachel, I hate it also. But what can we do? Benjamin needs to be there."

"I know. How much longer do you think he'll be in the hospital?"

Veronica looked me straight in the eye. "I think he'll be home by the end of January. As long as Benjamin keeps gaining weight."

'End of January? That's still three more weeks? Why?' I thought to myself. Right then I felt like screaming, but what good would it have done? I mean, it wasn't Veronica's fault. Was it mine then? Was Benjamin suffering because of me? Tears then began to well up in my eyes.

"Rachel, it's not your fault. You did great carrying the children as long as you did."

Veronica's reassurances felt good, but I still couldn't help but feel some blame for Benjamin's present condition. "It's been so hard. Benjamin suffers so much."

"But he is getting better. He'll be home soon and in a few months or even weeks you won't even know or notice what Benjamin had to endure."

"Really?"

"Really. Are you going back to LPCH after dinner?"

"Yes, if you don't mind?"

"No, go ahead, just be careful while you're out."

"I will," I replied. "Oh, a mail came for you today. Let me get it for you."

The letter I handed to Veronica a few moments later was from the University of California at San Francisco medical center. I waited silently as Veronica read it.

"I'm one of three finalists for the fellowship," Veronica said she re-read the letter for a second time. "If I'm selected, I'll start there next July."

"That's wonderful, I know how much you want this."

Veronica nodded her head. Then she began to cry. "I remember all the plans Rachel and I had together."

Seeing my friend's distress, I moved my chair over next to hers and took a hold of Veronica's hand. "It's all right to cry. I know how much Rachel meant to you."

Sometimes one needs a good kick in the rear to realize our own problems are minor compared to others. So they were in regard to both Veronica and Benjamin and many others due to the shift. I was healthy and alive. Both of which I am still grateful for.

Veronica cried for a minute or two before stopping. Then we went back to eating, but conversation was kept to a minimum. When done with dinner, I took my plate, bowl and utensils to the kitchen sink.

"Is it all right if I leave for LPCH now? I promise to be back in about an hour."

Rachel was only picking at her dinner. "Sure, you go. Kiss Benjamin for me."

Before leaving the kitchen, I went and gripped Veronica's hand as a way of reassuring her everything would be all right. Then I went and grabbed my purse and left the house.

Just before leaving for the movies on Friday night, Peg got a phone call from her sister-in-law Lisa, inviting her to go shopping the next day with her. With nothing planned for the next day and after checking with John, Peg said she would love to. Lisa agreed to pick up Peg at her home at 9:30 the next morning.

Saturday was a bright, sunny and on the warm side for January day in Northern California. As planned, Lisa picked up Peg at 9:30 and immediately set off to nearby San Jose. The two women would spend almost the entire day at some of the outlet malls in that California City.

Peg wouldn't get home till past 8 p.m. that evening. She and Lisa got so caught up in their Mom's day out. It was actually the first time the two former guys had ever spent much time together. Lisa was John's sister, and while Peg and her had known one another they hadn't ever spent that much time together. That was till January 6th.

The changes or contrast in Peg and Lisa's experiences that day could hardly have been bigger. Whereas six months earlier the two former guys had shared a beer at John Wilson's bachelor party, now the two mothers were spending a day shopping for women's clothing together. That was life in the post-Shift world.

Lisa's pregnancy was developing normally and had just recently entered the second trimester. With this hurdle passed, motherhood was becoming more outwardly noticeable as Lisa's body began to change. Most noticeably in the waistline, hardly any of the mother to be's clothing fit anymore.

Most of the day was spent looking for maternity clothes for Lisa. Also, a great deal of time was spent looking at baby clothes. Peg's sister-in-law didn't know the sex of her baby yet, so no clothes were bought for the still unborn child. That didn't stop Lisa from browsing. The two former guys also spent time in a more than a couple of women's clothing or shoe stores.

It didn't take long that Saturday for Peg to notice that Lisa had caught the 'shopping' bug that seemed to infect all females. Till that day Peg herself had been immune to the bug, but it didn't take long for the her to get caught up in Lisa's enthusiasm. By day's end Peg had bought two blouses, one skirt and jeans each and a pair of bedroom slippers.

Just before 6 p.m. Lisa declared she wanted to eat dinner. During their day out the two mothers had visited two malls separated by about ten miles. They were so busy shopping, that Lisa and Peg never really stopped to eat lunch. Just grabbed some snacks along the way at some of the mall's small food stands or outlets.

After getting their food, the two women sat down at a table in the middle of the food court. Peg had gotten Chinese food while Lisa had selected Italian.

Saturday, January 6th

Dear Diary,

I really need to vent. I wasn't even planning to write today, so here goes nothing.

After going to visit Benjamin around noon, I came home and gave Mrs. O'Connor the rest of the day off. He has been working so hard, that I felt our nanny deserved it.

I had another reason for doing this. It was such a beautiful day out I decided to take the girls out to the park. Yes, it's RSV season, but I think fresh air is good for them too sometimes. I will just not overdo it.

So we go out and the girls are being little angels. I wish that could be said about the other people in the park. What makes people go loony tune when they see multiples? Is there something in the water? Does the sight of multiples cause one to lose brain cells?

The two most annoying happenings are these. I count nine times while I was out that I got asked this question or a variation on it. "Did you take drugs?" Sheesh, I feel like saying, 'No, I didn't, but now I do to put up with all the idiots in the world!' Well, that wouldn't be an honest answer, for the real Rachel Klein had undergone IVF to get pregnant. In preparation to do so Rachel did take medications prescribed by an infertility doctor.

Don't these people realize they are asking a very personal question? If a couple is infertile, there are many reasons for this and it can be both a man or woman's fault. So they probably don't want it out in the public. It's one of those subjects people don't just blab out to anyone. So why ask this highly personal question? From my reading at TC I realize I'm not the only one to endure this badgering, it's a common occurrence. It's still annoying, however.

Here is my second complaint. If people aren't doing the above, and some are, why do they insist on touching Sarah and Mariel without asking? This drives me nuts, too, especially with RSV season. Maybe I should keep the girls indoors, but then I'm punishing them because of the nitwits out in the world.

I'm just annoyed with all that happened today. Other than that I enjoyed taking the girls out. One grandmotherly type told me how lucky I was to have multiples. I just wish I heard that more often.

End of today's rant. Ciao!

"Did you talk to John?" Lisa asked as soon as she and Peg sat down in the food court.

"Yes, John said no problem. I told him I'd be home by 8:30," Peg explained.

"We'll probably be back sooner than that," Lisa replied as she took her plate of food off the tray she had. This was to make more room on the smallish table. Once done the expectant mother placed the empty tray on an adjacent chair. "On the way out we might stop at one or two more shops. If that's okay with you."

"That's fine."

"Having a good time?" Lisa asked, taking a sip of soda before digging in.

"Very," Peg began saying with a nod of her head. Then Lisa noticed a bit of sadness come over her sister-in-law's face. "I miss Chandler so much. When I see a mother today pushing a stroller, I think of my son."

Lisa stopped eating and instead stretched her right arm across the table to take Peg's left hand. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking when I..."

Peg vehemently shook her head. "Don't feel guilty, Lisa, it's not your fault. It's just so hard for me sometimes."

Lisa couldn't fathom the pain Peg and John were enduring then. All she could do was be sympathetic to their plight. "I understand."

"Lisa, I have been enjoying today. Thank you for asking me to join you."

"No problem, and you're welcome. I like having the company."

Peg didn't speak again till she had finished eating her first mouthful of Chinese food. It was okay tasting, but nothing special. "You talked to Brian I guess. How is he doing?"

"Pretty good. He was just about to go out for an evening jog."

"Brian is losing weight, isn't he?"

Lisa nodded her head before eating another forkful of spaghetti. "Yes, twenty-five pounds in the last three months."

"He looks great."

Lisa smiled. "Yes, he does. I can't believe how ghastly I was letting myself become."

"Sometimes we need another point of view or opinion," Peg said, and then swallowed a mouthful of food. "I think we don't realize we're over-eating sometimes."

Peg's sister-in-law giggled. "Brian tells me to not overdo it even now. That's easy for him to say, I always feel hungry!"

The two mothers continued to eat their dinners. Peg was grateful for the day out with Lisa, she was so thoroughly bored at home. She was really praying that she would get that teacher's job.

Lisa then spoke up again. "That extra weight off Brian don't just make him sexier, but makes it easier on me, too."

Peg was lost or confused in regard to her sister-in-law's comment. "Easier?"

"When Brian makes loves to me, in the beginning I felt I was being crushed to death!" Lisa began giggling at her confession. Then she stopped. "Sorry, Peg, maybe I shouldn't be talking about this right after what happened..."

"No, Lisa, it's all right." Peg had long since noticed how friends and family interacted with her since Chandler died. Some people thought she should move on, others acted like they were walking on egg shells around her. The latter group meant well but sometimes Peg wished people just acted normal regarding her and John. They would never totally get over Chandler's death, but they wanted some normalcy in their lives again. "You don't have to worry about offending me. I'm really doing okay."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"The counseling John and I attend, Share Care at Stanford, has been a big help."

Lisa nodded. "I'm sure it is. Brian and I can only imagine what you and John have gone through."

"Thanks," Peg replied as she ate a mouthful of sweet and sour chicken. Lisa was well meaning, but it was hard for friends or parents to understand the feelings of a mother or father who lost a child unless they themselves had the same experience.

Lisa could see Peg was uncomfortable with the present conversation. "Peg, I know nothing can replace Chandler for you. You and John could have another baby one day."

Peg just stared back at Lisa. She had been giving this subject a little thought of late, but hadn't discussed it with anyone before. Not even John. "I suppose so."

"Can I ask you something personal?" Lisa asked, and Peg nodded yes. "Have you and John been having sex?"

Peg was a little shocked by Lisa's questioning. She went silent for a few moments. It was after swallowing a mouthful of food that she answered. "Yes, we have."

Lisa then broke the silence. "Sorry, Peg, if I was too personal."

After swallowing a mouthful of salad, Peg shook her head. "No, Lisa, you're not being too personal. I was just surprised by what you brought up."

"Okay, for a moment I thought I offended you."

"No, Lisa, you didn't offend me at all."

"Okay, Peg." Maybe this wasn't the time or place after all to bring up a very private subject.

Peg put down her fork and stopped eating. "Lisa, I never wanted to be a woman."

"I didn't either."

"Sometimes I have really hated what the Shift did to me."

Lisa nodded as she stopped eating also. "Peg, I have felt like that too, sometimes."

"Even after you got pregnant."

"No," Lisa said, shaking her head. "Just before. I like being pregnant. Brian spoils and loves me so much."

"John loves me so much, too. I'd be lost without him," Peg said before putting another forkful of food in her mouth.

"Peg, I hear you."

"I've even gotten to like being...a woman. Just as long I'm John's wife."

"That's how I feel too, but with Brian."

"There are some nice things about it," Peg said as she put her fork back down.

"You mean the sex?"

Peg was now sipping some soda, but answered right back. "Yes, I enjoy having sex with John."

"We're horny little devils, aren't we?" Lisa asked sheepishly. Instantly Peg gagged on the Diet Coke she was drinking.

"What???"

"We're horny!" Lisa repeated, trying to keep her voice down. Now Peg began to laugh hysterically.

"Yes, we are," Peg admitted. "Being loved by John is the best part. My period isn't fun, but I can live with it."

Lisa just nodded her head. She and her sister-in-law then went back to eating. Peg was very glad she had gone out with Lisa that day. The two former guys were quickly becoming good friends.

Peg got home shortly after 8:30. She found her husband John already wearing his pajamas and watching television.

"How was your day?"

"It was good," Peg told him. She was carrying three small bags. They contained the purchases she had made while out shopping with Lisa.

John got up from the sofa to go kiss his wife. After that was done, the husband began to laugh. "It looks like you had a real good time."

Peg knew John was teasing her about the clothing she bought. "I just bought a few things."

"Uh huh."

"I'd better go put these away and get ready for bed," Peg told John before the couple kissed again. Then before entering the bedroom, she added one more thing. "We're going to have some fun later."

Lisa was right. She was a horny little devil.

Monday, January 8th

Dear Diary,

Back to work today. Grrrrrrrrrrrr...but I have to make money to pay the bills.

I'm still having trouble forgetting what happened on Saturday. Veronica keeps reminding me what her grandfather used to say. "The world is full of many types of people. If you live long enough you'll meet every single one of them." I think Grandpa Schwartz is right, rest in peace.

While we're on Jewish ancestry wisdom or family, Veronica mentioned Benjamin's bris. What's a bris, you say? Circumcision. Oi Vei or ouch! Normally a Jewish boy will have had it done by now, but obviously it was postponed because of Benjamin being in the NICU.

I may have written you about this before. Then I got Mommy brain, lucky I don't forget my name sometimes.

Veronica wants to have the bris done within a month of Benjamin coming home. The only thing that's bothering me is Benjamin has been through a great deal already, but this is what Veronica and importantly the real Rachel would want. Thy will be done.

Time to go. Ciao!

"Mrs. Wilson?" asked a blonde haired young woman in either her late teens or early twenties.

"Yes, that's me," Peg answered. She had been waiting in the small reception/office area of Los Gatos Christian School.

Peg was very nervous about the interview and was trying hard to conceal this. She really wanted this job. In preparation for the interview, she had spent nearly an hour and a half preparing in the Wilson family bedroom and bathroom. In the end, Peg thought her husband would have approved.

For the important interview, Peg was appropriately dressed. She was wearing a lilac colored suit and skirt. Underneath the suit was a white blouse and on Peg's feet were a pair of dark purple shoes with one-inch heels. In addition, she wore jewelry including earrings. Nothing too gaudy looking like big earrings. She had worked hard to appear very professional looking for this job interview and thought she had succeeded.

"I'm Janice Corcoran, the school's Principal," the woman said while extending her hand to Peg. They immediately shook hands. "Please, come with me."

Peg was shown to a small office and told to take a seat across from the room's main feature, a big oak desk. Peg crossed her legs as soon as she sat down.

Janice had what looked to be Peg's resume in front of her. Next to it were a pen and small notepad. "I'm glad you came today, Mrs. Wilson. You are interested in being a Pre-K teacher here at Los Gatos?"

"Yes I am, Mrs. Corcoran."

"Call me Janice," the Principal said, looking at her notes. "Do you go by Margaret?"

"My friends and husband call me Peg or Peggy, but Margaret is okay also."

"Okay, Peggy. I've read your resume. Could you now tell me about yourself?"

Peg did just that. Telling a little about what had been his childhood, where he grew up and who his parents were. Then there was school, activities he took part in, and his short work history. Peg had never held anything but a part-time job in her life.

"I'm also married. My husband's name is John. We got married last July and have a home in Sunnyvale. It's a fifteen minute drive from here."

Janice just nodded. "Have you ever taught before?"

Peg looked the principal straight in the eye. "Not as a teacher in a school. I've worked with a church youth group as a volunteer. One summer I was also a lifeguard instructor. I'm a full-time student at Stanford."

"Are you taking any classes right now?"

"No. I decided to take the term off," Peg explained. "I'll return in the fall."

"You were male till the shift happened?"

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

"No, of course not. I have read your resume and you appear exceptionally educated for the job here at Los Gatos," the principal said while reading some notes she must have jotted down before the interview.

Peg knew where Janice was going with her questioning or line of thinking. The mother was overqualified for the position of Pre-K teacher. "The reason I applied to the school is I want to find a part-time or temporary job. I haven't worked or gone to college since before the Shift happened."

Janice appeared to understand what Peg was saying. "You have never worked with children this age before?"

"No, I haven't. My husband is an elementary school teacher, and he loves his job. I thought it may be nice to do the same or similar, even if only for a few months."

"If you don't mind me asking, do you have any children of your own?"

Peg didn't mind the question, though it really shouldn't be part of the job interview. She decided to answer the question but not elaborate too much. "Yes, a son named Chandler."

"Maybe I should tell you what your responsibilities would be if you were hired," Janice replied.

Peg listened quietly while Mrs. Corcoran described the responsibilities and duties of a Pre-K teacher. They were pretty much the same as any teacher, but class or the activities in Pre-K were certainly different from a grade class. There was time for learning, but also play time, nap time, music time. Best comparison to Pre-K was Kindergarten but more learning took place in the latter. Children weren't given letter grades, but as teacher Peg would be expected to write reports to the children's parents telling them how Suzy or Johnny had done in class.

Why did Peg apply for this job, really? She had never worked as a real teacher in her entire life. Hadn't ever even given it any real thought. Then there was the actual job, Pre-K teacher. Children ages four and five. Wouldn't working with children bring back her memories of Chandler and cause her emotions to come out?

Actually, it was the idea of working with young children that had made Peg apply for the job in the first place. She had applied at Los Gatos, half as a lark. She was a little surprised to be called for an interview. Wouldn't there be more qualified people available?

Peg had made a conscious decision over the Christmas holiday to accept Chandler's death while at the same time tackling some of the emotional baggage she had picked up as a result of her son's death. She wouldn't let the sight of a child upset her any more. Instead, she envied parents of small children. These adults got unquestioning love every day as their reward.

Janice was almost finished telling Peg the job description of Pre-K teacher at Los Gatos. "We hope to have someone to begin work on January 22nd. Mrs. Schlapkohl's last day before going on maternity leave is February 9th."

"That's not a problem. I am interested in the job."

"You do know the salary?"

"Yes, I read it in the paper."

"There wouldn't be any benefits. This is just a temporary job till the end of the school year. The last day of Pre-K is June 7th."

"Again, it's not a problem. I'm just looking for a temporary job myself."

Peg and Janice spoke for almost another ten minutes, the Principal asking questions about Peg's background, and the mother answering as best as she could. Peg also had some questions for Janice, who answered in the same manner.

"Thank you for coming in today, Mrs. Wilson," Janice said as she rose from her chair. This signified to Peg that the interview was over. "We are still interviewing other candidates and have to do some background checks. You should be hearing from us sometime next week."

Peg shook the principal's hand. She didn't know what to make of job prospects. Therefore she would keep on looking and not get her hopes up till she knew otherwise. "Thank you, and I am very interested in the job."

Then Peg was shown out of the office. She didn't have anything else planned for the day. After making a pit stop at a nearby ladies room, she drove back to the Wilson home in Sunnyvale.

Saturday, January 13th

Dear Diary,

Not all that much to report. It's the weekend and I'll be spending it with the girls at home. Veronica is working so I'll be here by myself. Mrs. O'Connor asked for this weekend off to attend a family event. Of course I granted it. After five days at the office I really look forward to being at home.

Benjamin continues to get better and stronger. I have a strong feeling he'll be coming home soon.

I'll be leaving for LPCH in a few minutes. Joan Halloran will watch the girls while I'm gone. Ciao!

I got back from LPCH just after 10 a.m. It would have been nice to stay longer, but Mrs. Halloran had plans for the day. At least I had gotten ninety minutes of quality time with Benjamin. I breastfed the boy and changed his diaper.

The girls were in their crib napping when I arrived back home. Not disturbing them, I went straight to the kitchen. Joan was finishing off a cup of tea she had brewed.

"How are they? They weren't any trouble?"

Joan smiled. "None at all. Two little angels. Not even a diaper change."

'Lucky you,' I thought, knowing the reprieve would only be a short one. Joan rinsed out her coffee cup, then began saying her goodbyes. She was almost out of the townhouse before turning around. "I forgot to mention one thing. You may be out of toilet paper."

"Thanks, Joan," I said to my friend who I was very grateful to for the help. "Thanks for coming over and watching the girls."

"I like doing it. Talk to you soon." Joan then let herself out.

Peg Wilson had an appointment that day. It was for a manicure and pedicure. Her husband John had made the suggestion earlier that week.

"You know, Sweetheart," John said, taking Peg's hand for a moment the previous Thursday. "You could really use getting your nails done now."

"I never thought of it."

"You really must make an appointment with Tina then." Tina, the owner of Nails by Tina, had a small shop about ten minutes from where the Wilsons lived. Taking her husband's advice, Peg called and got an appointment for 10 a.m. on Saturday morning.

When Peg entered Nails by Tina just before 10 a.m. on Saturday, the first thing she noticed was the smell. The place reeked of the odor of nail polish. She had to wonder how anyone could work there except that the shop's employees were all wearing surgical masks. That would definitely make the place bearable.

Peg had never been in the shop before. She did however have no problem finding it that morning since she had known it from the pre-Shift days as the place the now John Wilson came to have her nails done.

A blonde haired girl maybe twelve or thirteen years of age was waving to Peg. Walking to the middle of the shop, Mrs. Wilson took a seat directly across from the girl.

"Hello, Mrs. Wilson, it's been so long since you last came here," the girl said.

Peg had never met Tina before, but she was certain the shop owner was Vietnamese. Then a lot of people had been changed by the shift. "Tina?"

"Yes, it's me," the girl replied. "It's good to see you again, Peg."

Tina was motioning for Peg to put her hands on the table. She did so and could have sworn she saw a frown appear on Tina's face in spite of the mask that was covering it.

Peg decided to be upfront with Tina. "I'm not really Peg, I'm really John Wilson. Or I was before the Shift."

Tina's frown instantly changed to a smile. "Nice to meet you, John."

"Call me Peg. I became Peg and Peg became me," she explained.

"Hi, Peg," Tina said while using acetone to remove what little nail polish was left on her client's fingers. "How are you and John doing since the Shift?"

"Good for the most part," Peg told Tina. For some unknown reason or reasons, the ex-man was finding the experience of her nails done to be soothing. Maybe it was because of the talk Peg was having with Tina.

While proceeding to work on Peg's nails, Tina recounted her own post-Shift life. The shop owner had been at a nearby market with her husband Tom that Sunday morning when the shift happened. Tom was now her, while Tina had become a thirteen-year-old girl named Brittney. The now mismatched couple who were also parents to three children, had a great deal of adjusting to do.

"I guess you know that already," Tina said, by now filing her customer's nails. "It wasn't easy in the beginning. Well, it still isn't easy. Tom has been having a tough time."

As Tina worked on Peg's nails, they both retold their experiences since the Shift happened. This was a common event these days between friends. Even though this was the first time the former John Wilson had met Tina, she was already thinking of the woman as her friend. Peg quickly discovered that Tina's husband was now pregnant and that was most of what the shop owner talked about.

"Tom is now thirty-eight weeks pregnant," Tina said, almost finished with Peg's fingernails. As soon as this was complete, the shop owner would start on her customer's pedicure. "She is howling and moaning about how uncomfortable it is and hard it is to sleep. Sound familiar?"

"Yes, very," Peg said, choking back a tear as she recalled what happened to Chandler.

"That looks just about right," Tina said, apparently smiling at her work. Then her facial expression changed. "Weren't you or Peg or I mean John pregnant before the shift?"

"Yes, I was."

"I totally forgot," Tina admitted. Her tone soon changing to excitement. "So much has happened since the shift. You had the baby, then? Boy or girl? Can I see some photos?"

Tina was finished with Peg's nails and told the mother that in order to help them dry, she should softly blow on them. Peg did this as Tina prepared to start doing the pedicure.

Peg didn't answer her new friend's inquiries. Gauging her customer's face, Tina felt something was wrong. "Peg?"

"Chandler was born on last October 13th," Peg said, hanging her head. "He died the next day. Septic shock was the cause."

"Oh my God!" Tina exclaimed. Then stopping what she was doing, she immediately gave Peg Wilson a big hug. "I am so sorry. I didn't know."

"It's all right," Peg said, trying to avoid crying in public. She did appreciate Tina's hug, however. The two women were getting some odd looks from other people in the shop, but neither was noticing. Finally Tina let go of her new friend.

"I'm so sorry," Tina said, trying to regain her composure. "You must be heartbroken and devastated."

"Yes, very," Peg admitted. She finally couldn't control her emotions as a tear trickled down her cheek.

Tina handed Peg a few Kleenex from a box on her work station. "It's all right to cry. You must miss Chandler very much."

Peg just nodded her head as she wiped the tears away with the tissues. Seeing Tina was ready to do her pedicure, the grieving mother slipped the shoes she was wearing off her feet and then removed her socks.

Tina was unfazed by the condition of Peg's toenails. She did however share her friend's pain. "I know what you're feeling. Tom and I had the same thing happen to us."

"Really?"

"Not exactly the same thing. But I miscarried at eleven weeks in 1996," Tina admitted. The process for a pedicure proved to be not much different from that for a manicure. "I think of Gabriel all the time wondering what he or she would be like."

"I do too, with Chandler. Gabriel?"

"After the angel Gabriel," Tina said, showing a glimpse of a smile. "Gabriel is my special angel."

"Chandler is an angel too, for me," Peg said. Still surprised at how comforting or soothing having one's nails done could be, the mother now had another reason to be happy she came to this shop today. Peg had made a new friend, one who shared her grief.

I pulled into the parking lot of Ralph's in Palo Alto and immediately began the struggle for a decent parking space. The Chevy Suburban was such a tank, it was a struggle to find a parking space in the cramped strip mall parking lot.

After taking heed of Joan's note that the townhouse was out of toilet paper, I went about a thorough check for other items needed for the house. It didn't take long, but I soon had a list of twenty to twenty-five items.

I hadn't been planning to take the girls out. It was RSV season still and I was being very cautious about exposing the girls to germs. But with Veronica working, and the house in need of some supplies I had no choice.

After safely parking the car, I went and opened the Suburban's trunk and removed the triplet stroller. Then I got my still sleeping girls and carefully placed each in the stroller. As an afterthought, I took the blue teddy bear out of what was soon to be Benjamin's car seat and placed it in the empty stroller seat.

As I walked toward Ralphs, I wondered how I would cope with the task of pushing the girls and a shopping cart. 'I just hope no idiots ask me any dumb questions or make jackass remarks for a change.'

"Thanks, Tina," Peg said, handing her a check for $40. The mother then decided she wasn't done yet. Reaching inside her purse, Peg took out her wallet and removed another ten dollar bill. "Thank you for everything."

"Thank you, and please come back," Tina replied, taking the tip from Peg.

"I certainly plan on coming back. Thank you, Tina, and bye." Peg then left the shop. She would return to Tina's again in about a month or maybe only a few weeks. Peg seemed to recall John used to have her nails done every two or three weeks.

Peg absentmindedly opened the door to Nails by Tina and in the process almost struck a baby stroller being pushed by a mother. Only a quick reaction by Rachel Klein avoided a collision.

"Oh, I am so sorry. I wasn't looking," said an apologetic Peg.

"It's all right, no harm done," Rachel told her.

Peg couldn't help but notice the two adorable looking girls in the baby stroller. "Are they identical twins?"

Rachel smiled. "Identical, but not twins. They are triplets. Their brother is in the hospital but will be home soon."

"That must be why there's a teddy bear in the stroller. For the missing brother," Peg said, gazing at the two sleeping girls. The mother thought she'd like to have two children like these one day. "Oh. The girls are adorable."

"Thank you," Rachel said in reply, as she beamed at the compliment. All mothers loved to hear nice words or compliments about her children. After pausing for a second, Rachel did something she seldom did with strangers. She took her wallet out and showed Peg Wilson a picture of Benjamin.

"He is absolutely precious. What's his name?" Peg asked as she gave Rachel back her wallet.

"Benjamin." Rachel then pointed to her girls in the stroller. "That's Mariel, and behind her is Sarah."

"I like those names. You must be blessed in triplicate," Peg told Rachel with a smile. "It's been nice meeting you. Bye."

'I don't know who you are, lady, but you just made my day. Thank you for reminding me that not all people are rude,' I thought, still beaming at the stranger's compliments.

I continued pushing the baby stroller straight into Ralph's. It was a Saturday morning and the store was very busy. There was still no sign of a grocery cart with a baby seat. I then decided to ask an employee.

There was a young man inside standing in the middle of the checkout area. Not sure if he was a manager or not, I decided to approach him.

"Could I possibly get one of those shopping carts with a baby seat? One with two preferably, if you have one?"

"Of course you may, just wait right here," said the young man with a name tag saying Brian. He walked to where there was a microphone for apparently the store's PA system. Picking it up, he said. "Tim, come to the front end right away."

While waiting for Tim, I thought back to the stranger I just met. I still remembered her compliment which had made my day.

There was something else about her. I was only then placing my finger on what it was. When the woman looked at Sarah and Mariel I could see envy in her eyes. I surmised this woman longed for a child of her own.

There was something else, too. I remember the look on her face when I mentioned Benjamin indirectly. It was one of sadness. Had this mother suffered a loss of a child? I don't know, and probably never will. While standing there I said a short prayer for this kind woman. May she find what she was looking for in life.

Less than five minutes later and with the triplet stroller safely placed in the manager's office, I was pushing a cart with both Mariel and Sarah in it. Both were being good girls, and Sarah was just starting to wake up. A trip to the store with my girls. Could life be any better?

Less than fifteen minutes after leaving Nails by Tina, Peg was back at the Wilson home. After first taking off her sandals, she went straight to the answering machine to see if there were any messages.

There was one, and it was from John. "Hi, Sweetheart, I'm just leaving St. Martin's now. I should be home in an hour. Let's have lunch together when I get home. Love you, and talk to you soon. Bye."

Deciding to wait for John, Peg went to the living room and turned on the television. With nothing else to do, she decided to surf the channels.

Being a Saturday morning, there was little on besides cartoons and news programs. Even the premium movie networks had nothing particularly interesting to watch. Quickly growing bored, Peg turned off the television and just wandered around the three-bedroom house.

She decided to take out the vacuum cleaner and give the house a good cleaning. Starting at the furthest end, she would work her way back to the main bedroom.

The back bedroom was Peg's starting point. A room rarely used except if the Wilsons were having company, which they weren't. This still didn't mean the room didn't get dirty and dusty.

Once done with the bedroom, Peg started doing the hallway. The house, with the exception of the bathrooms and kitchen, was entirely carpeted. Passing the house's second bathroom, she made her way down the hall. The next room down the hallway was the baby room or nursery. This would have been Chandler's room if the boy had lived.

Since coming home from LPCH, Peg had seldom stepped in the room except to vacuum. The loss of her son was still too painful a memory. She thought daily of what life with Chandler would be like now if the boy had been born at forty weeks. Right now Peg thought the boy would probably be napping or maybe she'd be playing with him.

Share Care had helped the Wilsons and in particular Peg deal with their grief. The grieving mother knew she wasn't alone in the world, there were many mothers who had suffered a similar loss. Like her new friend Tina, for one. Some blamed themselves for their child's death. All carried a pain that they would carry the rest of their lives.

Other mothers like Tina knew how Peg felt and could empathize with her. Still, many of her friends thought Peg should move on. Could one ever just move on after losing a child?

No, the key was to accept what happened. Chandler had been sick, his pain is over now. He is Peg and John's special angel in heaven and Chandler was now with God. Yes, it was all right to miss the boy but it was time to start accepting what happened.

Peg then opened the door to the baby room and began vacuuming inside it. A crib was there in the center of the room. It had been constructed by John only a week before Chandler was born. Neither Wilson had the heart to begin taking the crib apart or even to redecorate the room.

While in the middle of vacuuming the baby room, Peg suddenly turned off the vacuum cleaner and stood there. Just staring at the room. Thinking what the room could have been like today and again asking herself why did Chandler have to die?

The question was probably unanswerable. Peg would just have to accept that there was no answer. Like she had to accept that Chandler had died.

Walking to the middle of the room, Peg stared at the crib. Daydreaming, she could see her son lying there staring up at his Mommy. Chandler was smiling at his mother.

Peg continued to stare down into the crib. Imagining Chandler there. Or was she imagining? She truly believed her son was her angel in heaven. Was he there with her right now in that very room?

"I love you, Chandler, forgive me," Peg said to the empty room. Remarkably, she wasn't crying. "I was so dumb and foolish. I'd do anything to be able to hold you now."

Peg continued to see Chandler in the crib and the boy was smiling. She was certain her son was with her in the room. Chandler continued to smile at her.

"Please, God, let me have another chance. Please, I'll do it right this time."

Peg was so lost in thinking of Chandler that she neither heard her husband John come home or hear his calls for her. Looking concerned, he stepped into the room.

"Peg?"

"Hi," Peg replied. John then came over and wrapped his arms around his wife from behind and gently kissed her.

"Everything all right?"

Peg gently nodded her head. "Yes."

"Anything going on?"

"Nothing. I was just thinking of Chandler. I miss him so very much."

"I miss him, too," John replied as he gently kissed Peg on the neck. He then looked at Peg's hands. "Your nails look great."

"Thanks."

"So, do you want to eat lunch at home or go out somewhere?"

Peg didn't answer right away. She was still staring at the crib and continued to see Chandler there. Peg didn't speak up again for nearly a minute. "Honeybuns."

"Yes, Sweetheart?"

"I want to have a baby."

A minute later the couple was in the home's living room. John seated Peg down in the love seat while he crouched or squatted down in front of her.

"Peg, are you all right?" John asked. The reason he wasn't seated next to his wife was so he could look at her face to face. He was concerned with the way his wife was acting. Depression can take on many forms and he was wondering if that was what was the reason for Peg's behavior.

"Yes. I want to have a baby. Please make love to me."

John stared intently into Peg's eyes. He was slowly concluding that his wife meant what she was saying. "You really mean it."

"Yes," Peg said, looking down at herself. "I love you. I want us to have a baby. Another baby."

John stopped squatting and instead sat down on the couch next to Peg. Wrapping his arm around her. He gently kissed his wife on the cheek. "I love you, too. Yes, I'd like us to have another baby. Can I ask you something?"

"Yes."

"What happened today?"

"I've just been thinking," Peg admitted. "I saw this woman at Tina's with a baby stroller. She had two identical and precious little girls."

John listened intently as Peg retold what she had done that morning.

"There was also Tina. We were talking, did you know she lost a baby, too?"

"No, I didn't."

"Tina had a miscarriage when she was eleven weeks pregnant. Back in 1996," Peg explained. "She has been through the same thing as me. Tina knows how I and you feel."

"Yes, she does," John replied, hugging her closer. "Was there something else?"

"Chandler. I saw him in the baby room. He was smiling at me."

"He loves his Mommy."

"He loves Daddy, too. I love him, too. I miss him. I was so dumb. Wasn't I? Tell me the truth."

John hesitated for a moment. "You were, a little bit."

"I know. I should have cherished Chandler and now he is gone."

"Peg, it isn't your fault."

"I think it is. At least a little, I failed as a mother."

"Peg, don't blame yourself. Chandler was sick. He is in a better place now. Chandler is always with us."

"I know, but I should have been a better mother. Chandler was what mattered, and I was so dumb. I won't do that next time."

"You're serious then?" John asked.

"Yes, I want us to have another baby. Two or three like we planned. If God is willing."

John hugged Peg tight. They had been through so much together. Together they would recover from what happened with Chandler.

"John, make love to me."

"Peg," John said, "I want us to have a baby. But you need to be well again first. Let's see Dr. Sanchez before we start trying."

"He said I can still have a baby."

"Yes, I know, but maybe we should wait a little. Your body needs to heal from having Chandler. You're due for an annual pap smear next month, we can ask then. Is that all right?"

"Yes," Peg said, and John then gave her a kiss.

He wasn't certain about the doctor. They may even say it was all right to begin trying again immediately. The father just wanted to be safe, he wanted a child and felt his wife Peg may need a little more time to heal. Pregnancy was hard physically and emotionally on a mother, John wanted Peg well before she embarked on another pregnancy. "Dr. Sanchez may tell us to wait. Like till the end of the year maybe. Peg, I do want us to have another child, but let's talk to the doctor first."

"I will do exactly what the doctor says this time, no exceptions," Peg said firmly. "I want me, or I mean us to have another baby."

"We can't ever replace Chandler," John added.

"But he will be our angel and our baby's. This time I will be the best mother ever."

"I know you will," John smiled. He really was starved for something to eat. "Want to go eat lunch now?"

Peg only took seconds to give her answer. "Honeybuns, please make love to me, NOW."

John Wilson could never say no to his wife Peg. Lunch would just have to wait.

Monday, January 15th

Dear Diary,

Just a brief note today. That is all I have time for.

I took the girls out grocery shopping Saturday morning. Both Sarah and Mariel were little angels the entire time. I did get two compliments while out, and better yet no idiot comments! One woman said I was blessed three times. I won't argue with that.

Other than that I drafted the letter to the Kleins. I submitted it to Veronica for her approval, which she did. I'd truthfully like to tell them what a pair of jerks they're being, but don't want to upset Veronica. Oh well. Veronica and I still plan on leaving here approximately two weeks after Benjamin comes home.

Time to leave for Smith Barney. Ciao!

Wednesday, January 17th

Dear Diary,

Sorry I haven't written too much of late. Life is busy but mostly good.

Benjamin is still in the NICU. It's over three months since my boy was born, and you know something? It's starting to get frustrating. When will it end for him so he can come home to be with his Mommies and sisters?

I know Benjamin has had a lot of issues, and LPCH is just making certain my boy is well enough to come home. But he has been so much better this month. You'd think we'd hear something by now. Sorry, I just feel frustrated at times.

Veronica is a big help. She tries explaining to me why the NICU is cautious. Benjamin, because of sleep apnea, will have to come home on a monitor. A lot of preemies do, but this is only for a few months. Right now that and his body temp issue are the biggest factors in determining when he will come home. Veronica assures me our son will be home by the end of the month. That still seems like so long, Benjamin was born over three months ago.

You see, of all the Moms on my mailing list and their children, Benjamin is the only one still in the hospital. I read their homecoming stories and I feel terrible my boy isn't home yet. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the help and friendships I made with these other HOM Moms, but their children are all home. I'm sounding jealous, aren't I? I shouldn't be, but be thankful for their support and that Benjamin is getting stronger every day.

That's it. Ciao!

The next day was one of those days. The market was doing very well, up almost three percent in one day. Probably due to bargain hunters in the post-Shift economy.

As nice as this was, I still had my share of annoying or pain in the ass clients. One of whom, a Dennis Campbell, had just spent thirty minutes on the phone ranting about the market. He was my client and in effect my boss. But what did he expect me to do about it?

Not long into Mr. Campbell's rant, I began to phase it out. Instead I was thinking of Sarah, Mariel and Benjamin. What were they doing now? How was Benjamin? When would he come home?

I often wished to be with the children rather than deal with idiot clients. It would be more rewarding. I enjoyed the time I spent with the children. The best time was when both myself and Veronica were with them. Right now I had too many expenses not to work. Till Veronica was done with her training in pediatric oncology, we would need the income.

Maybe a minute after Mr. Campbell's call mercifully ended, my phone rang again. This time it was the interoffice phone. "Yes, Carmen?"

"Ms. Schwartz on line three," she said.

I thanked Carmen and then clicked line three. "Veronica, how are you? Is everything all right?"

"Good, Rachel, and nothing is wrong. I've got great news to share."

I knew right away that it had to involve Benjamin. The excitement in her voice was a dead giveaway. "Benjamin, is he coming home?"

"He is being transferred to the Level II nursery right now. Dr. Stiles said Benjamin will be coming home this weekend, probably Saturday."

'Thanks be to God,' I thought with tears forming in my eyes. Putting my hand over the receiver, I began to cry.

After a few moments, Veronica spoke up. "Rachel? Rachel, are you still there? Did you hear what I said? Benjamin is coming home this weekend. Rachel?"

I finally shook off the shock from the happiness I was feeling. "Veronica, that's wonderful. I can't stop crying."

Veronica went on for a few minutes more while I mostly listened. She had already talked to her superior, Dr. Holland, she would have all of the weekend off. Then there was what clothes Benjamin should wear for his homecoming and a myriad of other small details.

"We'll know more tomorrow. Aren't you excited?"

"Yes, I don't know what to say," I replied, having pretty much regained my composure.

"So, are you going home first after work, or will you be stopping at Packard?" Veronica asked.

"I'll go home and change, feed the girls and then get to the NICU or I mean the nursery at 6 p.m."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Veronica said, still very cheerful sounding. "I'll see you at the nursery later. I've got to go, love you."

"Love you, too. Bye." I then hung up the phone. I composed myself for about a minute. Most of which was spent wiping the tears off my face with a Kleenex.

When I was all set again, I dialed the inter office phone. "Carmen, I'm going to do some pumping. No interruptions please."

"No problem, Rachel," my assistant answered. "Anything else?"

"Benjamin should be out of the hospital on Saturday," I answered. Carmen immediately congratulated me and began to buzz me with a series of questions about future plans involving me and the children. I answered truthfully and said that I was still making up my mind.

As soon as I got off the phone, I took the medulla breast pump out of my bottom desk drawer along with an empty container I'd use to store the milk. Unbuttoning my blouse, I began pumping a few moments later.

That same afternoon John Wilson got home from work just after 4:30. His wife Peg came right over to greet him. "How was your day?" she asked after the couple stopped kissing.

"A little hectic but okay. How was yours?"

"It was good," Peg replied. The Wilsons began to kiss again but were soon interrupted by the a phone ringing. "I'll go get the phone."

While Peg got the phone, John went to the master bedroom, and more importantly, one of its parts. His first stop was the bathroom, the man had to pee NOW. That done, John went back out into the bedroom and undid his tie and made himself more comfortable. After taking off his shoes, he put on a pair of bedroom slippers before leaving the bedroom. In all he had been in the bedroom for two or three minutes.

Exiting the bedroom and headed for the home's fourth bedroom or den, John noticed Peg was still talking on the phone. On the room's desk was that day's mail. He sat down and began to look at what had arrived. Most of the mail was the usual bills.

John was looking at that week's Time magazine when Peg called for him. "Honeybuns?"

Immediately John looked up and saw his wife standing about ten feet away from him in the middle of the living room. Something was apparently wrong because Peg was crying. Tears were streaming down the cheeks of her face. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

Peg was crying, but it wasn't out of sadness. "I got the job!"

Saturday, January 20th

Dear Diary,

The big day has arrived, after three months and seven days. Benjamin is coming home. I'm so excited I don't know what to say.

What I do have to say is thank you. Thank you to God for pulling Benjamin through this, thank you to all my friends for their support. Particularly Adrian, Stephanie, Jack, Nancy, The Hallorans, Rabbi Rabinowitz and her husband, Diana from TC and the Moms on my mailing list. They all were here for me when I felt devastated, depressed, scared or lonely. I'll never forget them.

A few friends have offered to throw a coming home party for Benjamin. Veronica and I have declined, saying we want his homecoming to be a quiet one. We have invited the people mentioned before if they want to visit this weekend. All said yes except for Diana who is busy, and the Moms on my list of course.

I almost forgot to mention Veronica. Hard to believe, right? Without her help I don't know how I would have pulled through the last five months. She is truly an incredible woman in addition to having the patience of Job with me.

A brief synopsis for today. We don't know the specific time yet for picking up Benjamin, but we're guessing about 10 a.m. That will be right after doctor's rounds. We have his coming home clothes packed, one white pull over shirt that says "I love my two Mommies" with blue pants. A sweater because the temperature is only in the 50's this morning. Plus a ball cap like hat, with the San Francisco Giant emblem on it.

In addition, we are taking the diaper bag, one bottle with enough milk for one feeding. A blanket to keep Benjamin warm for the car ride home. Veronica is checking to make sure we have everything.

All this stuff, and the hospital is just five minutes from home? It isn't like we're going to Portland, Oregon or Reno, Nevada or something. LOL, but I guess we're just so excited and want to be prepared for all eventualities. Veronica and I have been looking forward to this day since last October.

This could be my last diary entry. Would you believe five months ago I'd be a willing mother of three children?

"Do you want it plain or sugar coated?"

I'll forgive you. Right now I'm too excited and in a wonderful mood to be arguing with you. BESIDES, YOU'RE JUST A MICROCHIP.

It may be amusing ten, fifteen, even twenty years from now to read these entries all over again. Even let Mariel, Sarah and Benjamin read them when they are old enough to understand.

"You mean when they have children of their own to drive them crazy."

No, sooner than that. They will learn my and their Mom Veronica's story. "Wow, our Mom was a guy before the shift." Sure beats reading about it out of a textbook.

"They may ask what it was like going from having a outie to an innie."

Do I have to remind you of the hammer nearby? Good. Veronica and I will co-habitate together. Raise the children, take care of the house, all that stuff. We are already good friends and we also share the role of mother to Mariel, Sarah and Benjamin.

Could something develop sexually between us? Get married even? Gay and Lesbian marriage is going to be legal soon. With many previously married couples now both the same sex, it was only a matter of time before legislation like that became necessary.

To date nothing sexual has happened between Veronica and I. No kissing, or sex. We have held hands sometimes, but that's it. Well, not entirely, I think there is sexual tension between us. I admit I find her very attractive and I'm not at all interested in men. Does Veronica have feelings for me? I think so, but how advanced or deep these feelings are I am clueless. Neither of us appear ready to make the first step. I know Veronica still loves and misses the real Rachel. I guess the reasons are very complicated. Time will tell.

So it's au revoir, my friend. Or is it? I got sucked into this Mommy business in a way I'd thought would never happen. Funny how life has changed after the Shift. People, myself included, are doing the most unexpected of things. Childless man to mother of three. Who would have thunk it, eh? Who knows, I may not be done with you yet.

It's time to leave for LPCH to pick up Benjamin. Ciao!

"Are we all set?" Veronica asked as she emerged from the bedroom. She had worked an overnight shift on Friday but you could never tell that now. She was excited as I to bring home Benjamin.

"I definitely am," was my reply as I finished waiting for the computer to shut down. As soon as that task was completed, I picked up my purse and walked over to the crib where Sarah and Mariel were. Mrs. O'Connor was standing nearby.

"The diaper bag and other bag are by the front door. I placed them there for you," Mrs. O'Connor said in his typical Scottish brogue.

"Thank you."

Veronica and I were almost set to go, but Mrs. O'Connor had one more thing to add. "The girls are very excited to have their brother coming home."

I exchanged a glance with Veronica. Then decided to ask anyway. "How do you know?"

"I can feel it," was all Mrs. O'Connor would say.

On that note, Veronica and I left the house. We both knew arguing with Mrs. O'Connor was a useless exercise. Instead, we got into our Suburban for the short ride to LPCH.

We parked in the Doctor's parking lot near LPCH's south entrance. From there it was a short walk to the second floor nursery. There we found Benjamin in the care of a nurse named Randi. Our boy was fast asleep.

"You need to go to the NICU," Randi explained. "You will get discharge instructions from Dr. Cordoba and have to sign a few forms."

I wanted to see the doctor along with Veronica. We both needed to hear what special care Benjamin would need and be able to ask any questions we had.

Taking one of the two bags I was carrying, I opened it for the nurse. "Could you please dress Benjamin in these while we see the doctor?"

"Of course," Randi replied. Veronica and I went straight off to the NICU.

We were back to the nursery about thirty minutes later. This time Linda the Charge nurse was with us in addition to a LPCH baby stroller we would use to push Benjamin to the front door. The big moment had finally arrived, our son was coming home. Benjamin barely stirred as Linda placed him in the stroller. As soon as this was completed we were off to the hospital's south entrance. Veronica then went to retrieve the Suburban as Linda and I waited with Benjamin at the curbside.

Benjamin briefly woke up as Veronica and I got him in his car seat. He was probably curious about his new surroundings. After a final thank you to Linda who also wished us good luck, Veronica and I were in the Suburban and heading back home.

At home, Veronica carefully carried Benjamin into the house with me alongside. Inside, a beaming Mrs. O'Connor awaited us. She stood aside giving us the honor of reintroducing Benjamin to Sarah and Mariel and vice versa.

"I will put on some tea while the children reacquaint themselves with each other," Mrs. O'Connor said before setting off for the kitchen.

"Looky, girls," Veronica said to Mariel and Sarah, who were both awake and seeming to pay attention to their mothers. "Your brother Benjamin is home."

I put Benjamin down in the crib, directly in between his sisters. When I was done, I just stood there alongside Veronica. Neither of us was saying a word. We were savoring the moment. A family had been reunited.

Sarah and Mariel had been asleep prior to Benjamin joining them in the crib. But both girls were now awake. Maybe I'm a sentimentalist, but I thought the girls were realizing who was with them now.

Then Mariel touched Benjamin. Was it a greeting or the children being so close to each other? Did it matter? No, it didn't.

Then I noticed something else. Veronica and I were holding hands.

"I'm happy Benjamin is home," Veronica said to me, looking intently into my eyes.

"Me, too. We're a family," I replied, also staring into my friend's eyes. What lovely eyes they were. "Everything is perfect now."

Veronica didn't reply. She just nodded her head as our faces came close together. Finally we began to kiss.

We were a family.

Epilogue

Monday, January 22nd was Peg Wilson's first day working at Los Gatos. Surprisingly, Peg wasn't very nervous that day. She had gotten up the same time as her husband, 6 a.m. After having breakfast and getting ready for the day, she left the house a few minutes before eight. Again Peg was dressed for the occasion, this time wearing a pink blouse and white skirt.

The prior Friday Peg had gone back to Los Gatos for orientation and to fill out some employment papers and requirements. This and learning of the school's rules and regulations took several hours. Throughout that day's visit Peg could barely conceal the excitement she felt about the new job she would be starting.

Before leaving for the day but after class was over, Peg had a sit-down introductory meeting with Donna Schlapkohl. The teacher to teacher lasted about an hour and when it was over Peg felt it had went well. She was looking forward to working with Donna before taking over the class in February. Peg had a great deal to learn but felt confident in her ability to do so.

The children of Mrs. Schlapkohl's class began to file in about 8:15. Peg stood at the door saying hello to each and every one of the boys and girls. At 8:30 the school buzzer sounded to mark class was in session.

Peg and Donna stood at the front of the room. Seated in front of them were twenty-one boys and girls. Most but not all were looking at the Pre-K teacher and Peg.

"Good morning, children."

"Good morning, Mrs. Schlapkohl," the children almost sang with their little voices.

"Starting today we will be having another teacher. She will be helping me..."

Peg suddenly became highly nervous. Most of the children were now looking at her rather than Donna. These children were looking up to her in more ways than one. Was Peg ready for the responsibility she was about to undertake? Would she be a good enough teacher for these children?

Some of the children were now staring at her. She knew that in addition to taking this job, Peg was undertaking a great deal of responsibility. She wouldn't just be a teacher three days a week for seven hours, but a kind of surrogate mother, also. Was she prepared for this?

"Now, I want all of you to give a big welcome to your new teacher, Mrs. Wilson."

"Good morning, Mrs. Wilson," the children sang out enthusiastically.

Peg smiled down at the children. All doubt and worry disappeared immediately. Peg knew she would be the teacher these boys and girls deserved.

The second weekend in February, Veronica, Rachel and the children successfully moved from Palo Alto to Mountain View.

In May of 2001, Veronica learned she got the fellowship at U of Cal, San Francisco medical center. She started working there in mid-July of the same year, but not before taking two weeks vacation after her residency ended. Veronica spent this well deserved time off at home caring for Mariel, Sarah and Benjamin.

Rachel continued working for Smith Barney. A big change occurred in 2002. After some negotiation with her employer, Rachel swung a deal allowing her to work from home three days a week. To do this, she gave up some clients and this meant lost income. To compensate, Rachel reinvested her own assets. Now she could work and care for her three children. It was truly the best of both worlds.

By then Sarah, Mariel and Benjamin Klein were precocious and lovable toddlers. All were walking and in good health. Other than by seeing scars from his operations, few people would have known how sick Benjamin was the first few months of his life.

In August, 2001, Peg Wilson began teaching Pre-K full-time at a school in San Jose. She loved her new vocation and no longer had any desire to attend law school or become a lawyer.

On September 22, 2002, a same sex wedding took place in Palo Alto. Rachel Klein and Veronica Schwartz were joined in a simple affair celebrated by Rabbi Rabinowitz.

A few days later

"Wah...Wah...Wah..." a baby boy cried on entering the world. The child was born at 9:17 a.m. on September 25, 2002. Later on it would be learned that at birth the boy weighed seven pounds and ten ounces and measured nineteen inches.

Little did the boy know but both his parents cried the instant they heard the wails of their newborn son. The mother had been in labor for eleven hours, and despite earlier plans not to, had opted to get an epidural for the pain. No matter, their boy was born perfectly healthy at thirty-nine weeks and five days gestation. Mother and child would be discharged from the hospital together the following day.

The boy's name was John Owen Wilson, Jr. His parents were John Owen Wilson Sr. and Margaret "Peg" Wilson.

The End.

This story is dedicated to my son, Daniel Thomas J.

Born January 25, 2003 4:54 p.m. Florida USA Died January 26, 2003 7:23 a.m.

Daniel was with me and my wife for too short a time. But we will never forget our son. It all began on a day in August, 2002 when my dear wife learned of her pregnancy. It was a true miracle considering I was being treated for stage IV cancer and was told that I was unlikely to see 2003.

But I have lived to 2003 and I have even made it to 2005. My son saw 2003, but for too short a time. L spent eight weeks on hospital bedrest before giving birth to Daniel at twenty-eight weeks and four days. A massive infection was the cause of my son's death. Our story was the inspiration for this story.

I needed to write A Great Shift Tale - For Daniel. One day I may even write Daniel's true story. Meanwhile, this will have to suffice. The story was a kind of therapy for me, but at the same time the most difficult story I ever wrote. Because I can truly relate to the Wilsons in For Daniel. There is no experience worse than losing your own child.

Some of this story paralleled my and L's experience. If you wonder why I used the diary format, the answer is simple. L kept one during her entire hospital stay of nine weeks.

I also used the diary to inject some humor into an otherwise somber story. Matt/Rachel's diary entries are her way of coping with being alone and isolated.

I spent much of 2003 dealing with Daniel's death. L is much stronger than I, her faith in God has sustained her. I can't say the same, I can't understand why my son had to die. My own faith is largely in tatters. Why put my spouse through all of this only to take our child away?

To deal with my pain, I stayed busy writing in 2003. Another Great Shift story, Mulligans, was written in an effort to escape my pain barely a month after Daniel's death. Because of my emotional connection to parts of For Daniel, it took me almost two years for me to finish writing it.

Please leave me some reader comments. They help to sustain me and my writing. If you leave an email address I will write back. Thank you in advance. My email is DanielleJE@hotmail.com.

Daniel, Mom and Dad love you. We won't ever forget you.