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Twenty five weeks pregnant.
Kick kick kick.
The young woman smiled to herself as she felt one of her three babies begin to squirm around inside of her.
It was probably baby B, he (she was sure the baby was a he, even though Pedro thought the opposite) was always very active, especially at night and early morning.
“Ay, mi vida. You’re awake again.” Alma rubbed her very swollen belly as she and Pedro wandered towards the market.
Kick kick kick. Punch.
Oh no, now the others were awake, tired of being kicked by their rambunctious sibling, they had decided to fight back.
War had been declared inside Alma’s womb and she gasped as her three little ones fought for space.
“Amor? Are you okay?” Pedro turned when he realised his wife wasn’t by his side anymore, and he took some steps back to hold her face.
“Baby B is asserting his dominance.” The woman grumbled, earning a soft chuckle from her husband.
“She. I’m convinced it’s a she.”
“Whichever gender they are, they get the other two all riled up.” She complained.
She had heard from other mothers that pregnancy was hard, even with one baby.
Being pregnant with two more than that was almost like torture.
She had been incredibly sick for the first twelve weeks and hardly able to eat anything, and now the sickness had stopped, she couldn’t stop craving pineapple empanadas.
Which would have been fine if they didn’t give her severe heartburn.
And don’t get her started on the kicking, particularly from one certain triplet.
Constant movement through the night, denying her sleep while Pedro snored peacefully beside her.
So obnoxious.
She would smother him if she wasn’t so ridiculously in love with him.
Pecking his wife on the lips, Pedro put two large hands on her belly.
“Now now, mi bebés, settle down in there. We’re at the market to get you something nice. Only good children get presents.”
There was a pause, as though the babies were considering the deal, before Alma hissed in discomfort.
Baby B gave one last, sharp kick to what felt like baby C, before finally settling down for a nap.
Relieved that they could get moving again, the couple walked hand in hand to the little market.
The place was alive with excitement, stalls selling all kinds of things, chatter and children begging their mamàs to please take them to the toy or candy stall.
That would be them soon.
They looked around for a while, Alma chewing on some chocolate that she had to have, when they saw a variety of little baby blankets.
Handmade by the elderly Señora Perez.
The couple knew her well, and she was always asking them how the babies were doing whenever she saw them.
Today was no exception.
“Very active.” Alma sighed, exhausted. “Although I think babies A and C are merely responding to being elbowed and kicked so many times.”
“Ay, my twins were that way.” The older woman responded with sympathy. Señora Perez had twin boys, both grown with wives and children of their own. “They loved to encourage one another to swing from my ribcage or kick me in the bladder.”
It was nice for Alma to talk to someone who understood her situation.
They chatted a bit more before she and Pedro went to admire the baby blankets.
“I like these ones.” Pedro decided. “What do you think, mi vida?”
A soft blue, a sunny yellow, and a beautiful green.
Gender neutral and they were so soft to touch.
Alma knew she would love to swaddle her angels in these.
“I think these are the ones.”
-x-
Thirty weeks pregnant.
“So Julieta for the girl, and Bruno for the boy, si?” Pedro kissed Alma’s belly as he felt the kicks against his hands.
This time it was baby A who was the instigator, which was rare as they were usually the calm baby.
“Ay, and Pedro for the other boy.” Alma said, stubbornly.
“I still think it’s a little girl, mi amor, but I’m honoured that you want to name a child after me. You must really love me.”
“Well don’t let it go to your head.”
Pedro chuckled, running his thumb over the lump under Alma’s dress, where what looked like an elbow stuck out.
“We will have to hope it’s two boys.” The man hummed. “We can’t agree on a second girls name.”
“I’m not letting any child of mine be called Esmeralda, I’m sorry.” Alma huffed.
“It’s a beautiful name.”
“Well it doesn’t matter, because it’s a boy.”
Alma was headstrong, and entirely convinced that she was right.
There was no talking her out of it.
Pedro placed a kiss to her belly, then to her lips.
“If you say so, mi vida.”
-x-x-
October 17th.
Alma couldn’t sleep.
She was so uncomfortable, she couldn’t even toss and turn in her bed because of the weight of the babies inside of her.
There was barely room now for them to stretch or kick, although they still tried to beat eachother up.
Baby C was always the quietest, but even they squirmed and wiggled in an attempt to get comfortable.
“I know, mi amor.” Alma whispered into the darkness. “You want to come out.”
Triplet pregnancies didn’t stretch as long as singletons did, and according to her doctor, the babies would be here any day.
Thank goodness for that.
Although most of the pregnancy had been terrible, she had loved feeling her babies grow.
Now she wanted to hold them in her arms.
It was three in the morning now and it didn’t look like sleep was coming anytime soon.
She glanced over to her left and saw Pedro fast asleep, with his hand holding onto hers.
The bigger the triplets had gotten, falling asleep cuddling had gotten more difficult for her, but she couldn’t settle unless she was touching him in some way.
Hand holding would have to suffice.
Not that it mattered tonight because she couldn’t sleep anyway.
Every time she felt herself drifting off, a twinge would startle her awake.
With much strain, she managed to get out of bed to use the restroom.
As she was washing her hands, she felt water gush down her legs and pooled onto the floor.
Well, it was going to happen sometime soon.
She thought she had prepared herself for the shock.
Apparently not.
“PEDRO! COME QUICK!”
There was a brief pause before her husband appeared in the bathroom doorway, hair dishevelled and a panicked look on his face.
“What’s the matter!?”
“My water just broke.”
-x-x-x-
Once upon a time, Alma thought that breaking her leg in three places as a child would be the most painful thing she’d ever have to experience.
That was nothing compared to labour.
It had been nine torturous hours before the midwife, Señora Cruz, finally said that it was time to push.
“You’re so amazing, mi vida.” Pedro kissed the side of Alma’s sweaty head.
Alms screamed as another contraction hit, each one worse than the last.
“No more babies, Pedro! I am never doing this again! NEVER!”
“Alright Alma, on the next contraction, I want you to push as hard as you can, and then when the contraction eases, I want you to stop.”
The sounds that came from her as she pushed sounded inhuman, as she gripped so tightly to
Pedro’s hand that her knuckles turned white.
If her husband was in any pain himself, he had the good sense not to show it.
“¡Te voy a cortar el pene y haré que te lo comas!” The woman snapped in her husband's direction as the head of the first baby began to crown.
“The head is out, Alma.” The midwife said, calmly, ignoring the young woman’s outburst.
She had heard much worse before doing this job.
The pain continued as she pushed her first child into the world, and then a sudden relief as the rest of the body slid into Señora Cruz’s waiting hands.
“It’s a girl!”
Alma’s sobs mixed with the infants tiny cries, as the cord was cut and she was placed onto Alma’s chest.
As soon as the baby and mamà had skin to skin contact, the wailing from the child ceased and she gazed up at her mami’s face.
She was tiny and so beautiful, with dark hair and big brown eyes.
“Mi Julieta.” Pedro gasped, proudly as he kissed the top of his hija’s head.
For Alma though, the relief was short lived as she felt another contraction.
Oh yes, she had more babies to deliver.
Julieta was handed to her proud papa as Alma began the pushing process all over again.
She had hoped it would be easier: she knew what to expect and the first baby had loosened everything up down there.
But baby B had been a handful the entire pregnancy, so of course they weren’t going to be born without lots of drama and flare.
“This one isn’t coming out right!” Alma screeched as she tried to push, to no avail.
She felt the head coming out…but it felt strange.
Every time she pushed, the baby would slide back up, refusing to be born.
It didn’t take long to find out why.
“The baby isn’t in the best position. They’re coming out head first, but they have a hand over their face. It’s going to be more difficult.”
Of course. Of course this was the stubborn one.
This baby hurt a great deal more, as she felt an elbow scraping against her vaginal wall, but she was a determined woman.
This child couldn’t stay in her forever.
She managed to push the head out, and the stray arm was freed before the rest of the baby was born.
The crying from the infant had started before she was almost fully born.
Her shrieks filled the room, causing her sister to startle and turn her head towards the noise.
“It’s another girl!”
The statement made Alma start. A girl!? They were supposed to have two boys! She had flat out refused to think of a second girl name.
She has been so certain….
Her second daughter was placed on her chest and the new parents melted.
She had gorgeous red hair and green eyes, and she was beautiful despite the grumpy expression she was wearing.
This world was too bright and cold for her.
She wasn’t a fan.
Pedro was left to hold the two sisters as his wife worked on pushing their third and final child into the world.
All things considered, this one was much easier than the previous two, and was born straightforwardly and without a fuss.
“It’s a boy!”
And a tiny boy he was.
Her Bruno.
He looked so small and delicate, clearly smaller than his sisters.
They would have to take extra special care of him.
He was the spitting image of his papi.
She had done it. Her three babies were here.
They had caused her the worst pain of her life, but seeing them had brought her insurmountable amounts of joy.
They were worth every ounce of pain.
Pain that was soon forgotten as she held each of them.
Her bebès. Her miracles.
-x-x-x-x-
The sun had just set over their quiet little village, and Alma proudly held her little ones in their arms, swaddled in their new blankets.
Blue for Julieta, green for Bruno, and yellow for….
“I don’t think she’ll like being called Pedro.” Alma smiled as she ran a finger over the child’s red hair.
All her babies were fast asleep now, but not without her middle child making it known that she hadn’t wanted to settle.
She had screamed and screamed, only giving in when she was wedged between her siblings.
Alma knew already that her babies would have an unbreakable bond, and be a source of comfort to each other that no one else could rival.
“I have an idea for a name.” Pedro smiled as he stroked the face of little Julieta.
The baby cooed softly in her sleep and seemed to lean into his touch.
“And that is?” His wife asked, exhausted but intrigued.
“My Abuela was named Josefa. She was the sweetest and kindest woman you’ll ever meet, but she did have a very stern looking face.” He chuckled. “Don’t get me wrong, she did have an opinion whenever she wasn’t happy about something. Like our little firecracker here. We can name her Pepa for short. Josefa can be the name we use when we have to scold her.”
Alma giggled. She could already tell that she’d be doing a lot of scolding.
Probably with all three of them.
“Pepa. I love that.”
“Julieta, Pepa and Bruno.”
The couple marvelled at their triplets.
They were only hours old but they were all so different in personality already.
Julieta was quiet as a little mouse, rarely making a fuss even when she required care.
Pepa was the loudest, most opinionated baby, screeching and wailing when she needed attention, getting all upset and red in the face when her needs weren’t met within half a second.
Bruno was the baby baby. Quiet like Julieta, but he had these hazel-green eyes that seemed to stare into your very soul.
They were perfect in every way.
It was going to be both a challenge and a joy to be their parents.
Little did they know, their life as they knew it would fall apart.
-x-x-x-x-x-
“Are you alright, mi vida?” Pedro whispered to the love of his life as they walked, hundreds of people following them to what they hoped would be a new home.
They had to flee in the middle of the night, having looked out of the window to see that raiders had invaded their village, and houses surrounding theirs were up in flames.
There was no way they could have stayed.
They packed their essentials, leaving their home behind as Alma cradled her babies, terror in all three of their little faces as they began their journey.
Was she alright? No, truth be told.
She had given birth mere hours ago, she was still sore and every step she took was painful.
She was bleeding heavily from unspeakable places.
However, the thought of safety for her family drove her on.
They walked for hours, her babies having fallen asleep on the journey and they were snuffling against her chest.
She wanted to lay down and sleep herself, her body screaming at her that she needed to rest.
That wasn’t an option for her.
She was running on pure willpower at this point.
They reached a river, and Pedro kissed the side of her head.
“We’re almost there, mi sol, I’m sure of it.”
There was time for her to give him a weak smile before she heard screaming behind them.
Several men on horses had caught up to them, each one wielding swords.
They were out for blood.
They weren’t safe. They would never be safe.
She and Pedro ran as fast as they could, others from their home stumbling and running in all panicked directions.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and she slowed to a stop.
Pedro was looking at her, an expression on his face that she couldn’t quite read.
He leaned down and kissed each of his babies on their heads, before straightening and cupping Alma’s face.
“Te amo.” He gave her one last kiss before he ran towards the raiders, hands up in the air in an attempt to slow the men down.
No! What was he doing!?
She had always adored Pedro for his bravery, and his protectiveness of those he loved.
But not like this. Never like this.
She held her babies in one arm, and a candle in her free hand.
What happened next would haunt the woman for the rest of her life.
The river water turned scarlet, as Pedro’s wounded body hit the water.
He was dead before he even made a splash.
An ungodly scream came out of her as she fell to her knees, somehow managing not to drop her babies as she sobbed into the darkness.
Her heart had been ripped from her chest the moment her beloved Pedro’s had stopped beating.
She had no home, no husband, and three little babies to raise all alone.
If they even survived the next few minutes.
A bright light engulfed her and through her tears, she saw mountains materialise around her, the raiders being banished by an invisible force.
It had all happened so fast.
All of a sudden they were safe.
It had all been such a blur that it took her a beat to realise what had even happened.
Pedro’s sacrifice had given them a literal miracle.
They were safe. Her babies were safe.
Or were they? Would they ever be safe again?
-x-x-x-x-x-x-
It wasn’t just protection that Alma and her babies had been given that night.
A magic house had appeared in front of them.
A magical, living house.
Their Casita.
Their miracle.
Their saviour in their darkest moment.
Alma and her babies had a new home.
Tears still stained Alma’s face as she tucked her babies into her bed, pillows surrounding them to stop them from falling out.
There were three cribs in this room, identical to the ones in her old home.
Casita had thought of everything.
She wanted her babies with her though. Close to her.
She was prepared to have to flee at a moment's notice.
She laid down beside them.
Her body didn’t hurt anymore.
She was numb with grief.
But she had three little babies depending on her.
She watched them sleep, listening to their soft snores and snuffles.
Julieta was beside Pepa, her face squished against her sisters, her mouth slightly open.
Pepa was in the middle, stirring and whimpering briefly before settling down again.
Her face scrunched up like she was having a bad dream before her expression smoothed out again.
Bruno sneezed and snuggled up against Pepa’s other side, a worried expression on his little face.
Her beautiful little ones, with only her to rely on.
No papi to play with them or tell them stories.
No papi to spoil them or pick them up when they fall.
That was all up to her now.
Eventually, she allowed her eyes to fall closed, the sounds of her sleeping babies lulling her into a much needed slumber.
Her babies.
She would stop at nothing to keep them safe.
She had to.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Julieta Lorena Madrigal.
October 17th.
4lbs 5oz.
Josefa “Pepa” Elena Madrigal.
October 17th.
4lbs 9oz.
Bruno Pedro Madrigal.
October 17th.
4lbs 1oz.