Maya had less than four months and her husband hadn't wanted her to feel pushed into choosing names for their children, but the hesitance was heavy, and the tension thick. The fear she had felt all along had been destroying her from the inside, not wanting her husband to know how she had felt because she felt guilty for not being happy or excited during these last months of pregnancy. She felt like a terrible mother for not rushing to pick names, names that would help shape this child's character.
Josh and Maya were still young and working to pay off college debts. Maya had gone to NYU just to stay close to her fiance, receiving her major in special education, only showing her that she could amount to something, even someone as broken as she felt. Josh had received a double major in family counseling, something he could do with ease, words of encouragement and understanding that always came easy to him.
They had gone shopping for the babies bed and found it pointless to buy a crib, let alone two, when the babies could be just as comfortable in pack-n-plays, easily movable, less space consuming, and much cheaper than buying two cribs, especially for first time parents. But secretly it went without saying, Maya and Josh's motives for the cheap and convenient cribs was more than the money. Neither of them wanted to think of the possibility, pained them to think of how they had stached receipts in their desk full of bills to pay, and had even rejected the possibility of a baby shower.
"Baby girl, you're going to need to be prepared, and living in fear is only going to make this whole situation more stressful once the babies come." Her mother had reprimanded her gently, only with the best intentions at heart to shake Maya back into the optimistic reality that this was going to happen.
And though she knew Josh loved her she knew it could change in an instant, after all, her father left without a trace for just about nine years before returning after being asked. What if Josh didn't feel good enough, or strong enough to take care of Maya, or what if he didn't feel the instant love every father claimed to feel the second they held their child? Her whole pregnancy was full of What if's? rather than rational thinking.
Maya cried when Josh had brought home a book of baby names, it all becoming real, not the fears themselves but the fact that everyday God brought them closer to holding their babies in their arms. Together after a long conversation Maya had agreed to look through it, and they spent the night writing down names they felt had meaning to their child, or fit just right.
"So baby 'A' will get our first pick, and 'B' will get whatever we choose last?" Maya confirms.
"It sounds like favoritism; Maybe we'll see who looks more like who before we give names, to be sure they fit them properly." Josh laughs, and Maya rolls her eyes.
Maya skims over the list, reading both the girls and boys side, finding her eyes always drawn back to the boys' side, feeling a strong inclination of the gender of her babies being boys despite the fact that her family in fact, only had girls. Josh had two brothers and a sister, but even then the predictability of these genders weren't clear.
"Read the girls' names for me please." Maya hands the list to her husband.
"Okay, the boys…"
"Are you biased for boys because you are one?" Maya teases, smiling as Josh nudges her, kissing her on the cheek.
"Um… Lucy, Eloise, Evelyn, Macey, Carter, Phoebe, Paisleigh, Finleigh, Lilah, Addilyn, Chloe, and Hazel."
Maya grabs back the list, looking in surprise to see that her husband had indeed crossed off the names he hadn't been qeen on.
"Boys are: Carson, Hudson, Peyton, Elijah, Calvin-,"
"Don't you think Peyton is too common? We want unique names like Uriah, or Ezra."
"But not so unique the kids at school give them a hard time, or names that people can't pronounce. Anyways, we're getting nowhere." She sighs frustrated, setting the book beside her bedside table.
Maya then reaches into the small lunch box below their bed, sliding it onto their bed and popping it in front of her astonished husband.
"Maya, we can't…" He insists.
"We're going to at least know so we can pick to names and be prepared. These children are going to have names no matter what. Even if they're…"
Josh rests his hand on hers, comforting her as he sensed her discomfort and awkwardness of the words in her mouth. She smiles as she lets go, resting her hand on the lunch box, only which Topanga had seen and prepared.
"You ready?" She asked for reassurance, unzipping it and beginning to remove the slip of paper from the ultrasound, containing one of the most important pieces of information.
Maya slides open the paper, cutting the sticker holding it shut with her nail, her eyes growing large, the brilliant blues reflecting the hesitant joy she felt inside as she leaned into her husband, crying in sync with him, the parents both happy and slightly less uneasy. This was becoming a reality, but none of it would feel real until they were looking down at their children.
"Well," Josh mutters, "I wasn't prepared for that."
-XXX-
Maya slings her purse over her shoulder and exits her car, locking it behind her and entering the side of the school building in which she attended herself as a middle school student. Cory had gone back to teaching there after the girls had graduated, and had encouraged Maya to become one herself. Her passions had always been towards the special needs children, becoming a kindled interest when Farkle had been tested for autism, and but the flame had been lit when Isadora Smackle came into their lives.
It warmed her heart when the little girl whom she looked after as an aid each day (She felt more than an aid, but an advocate to help this little girl become something, just as Cory stepped up from teacher to father), admiring the beautiful way her brown eyes slanted and her smile stretched from cheek to cheek, her rosy red chubby cheeks perfectly complementing her curly brown hair.
"Hello Sadie! How are you today, sweetface?" Maya smiles, bending at the knees to make eye contact with her.
She giggles as she reaches for Maya's hand, leading her over to the small brown couch in the room near the white board. Though she couldn't speak much her actions definitely spoke louder than words. Her bubbly personality proved that she lead just as normal as a childhood as her peers, only with small little obstacles in her path. But nevermind them as she was constantly scaling over things, and when she did find one she deemed 'impossible', Maya would work through weeks and even months of helpful games and skills to help her overcome.
Sadie pulls a puzzle from her backpack, proudly showing Maya before dumping the pieces on the floor, just as the bell rang.
"I'll tell you what," Maya kneels to knee level and scoops the pieces together, "We'll play puzzle during recess if you work hard today."
Sadie surveys Maya as grabs the pieces with her small and chubby hands, tossing them disorderly into the box the best she could. Maya extends a pink, smiling at the child hesitantly takes it, giggling as she wiggles their locked pinkies back and forth, loving the new form of appropriate physical affection she could show at school. She was learning that hugs weren't always appropriate, that some people weren't going to enjoy a surprise hug.
"Everyone loves a high five or a pinky promise." Maya smiles reassuringly, zipping Sadie's backpack and adjusting her shoulder straps.
Children with Down syndrome were often affectionate, and unfortunately not everyone was going to feel friendly. Teaching Sadie to 'high five' instead of hug broke her heart, knowing that she meant no harm, but was important in order to avoid unfriendly experiences at public places like restaurants and grocery stores.
Sadie had speech difficulties and to make things easier with communication when her talker couldn't, Maya would often narrow down the choices she had to choose from in an attempt to make it easier.
"Was the main character in our book a dog," Maya holds out her left hand palm up, offering it as a choice for 'dog', "Or a coyote?" Maya lays out her other hand, waiting for her to high five the hand in which she thought was the correct answer.
Sadie touches Maya's left hand, indicating that she thought 'dog'.
"Close; A dog is like a coyote, but was Ralph the kind of dog we have in our homes? Yes or no?"
Sadie hits the hand which indicated no, then grabbed her pencil, Maya pointing to problem in which she had to answer. Sadie circled the picture of the coyote, and the two then moved on to the next, continuing until the bell had rung.
Maya truly enjoyed her job, the highs and the lows. Though she was exhausted at the end of the day, knowing the difference she could make in others' lives was an incredible feeling as well as rewarding, knowing it takes an incredibly patient, open minded and understanding person to entail what she did through her job. Sadie had truly become like her own, Maya with the child ever since she had started second grade.
It broke her heart when she had come to the realization that in a few short months Sadie would be left with a completely random substitute aid, change often uneasy for the child, and it killed her to know that she wasn't going to see her everyday. She would love to come back as soon as she could, three months of maternity leave was long enough.
"Josh!" She announces upon arriving home after school that day, "We've got discuss names."
She realized that day, when she called Sadie by her nickname, the importance a special name can make the child feel. She wanted names that were easy to remember, memorable, and meaningful, giving each twin a chance to be their own individual.
-XXX-
The weeks leading up to her scheduled c-section, Maya and Josh had felt both anxious and unprepared, and the strong feelings of uneasiness still lingered deep inside Maya, fear of judgement from anyone who heard that she wasn't exactly excited yet, at the same time she could feel elated at the thought of holding her children. She felt confused and overwhelmed by her feelings, and the fact that her mother reprimanded her about not breastfeeding had only guilted her more.
"C-sections aren't giving birth! They're surgery!" A stranger with young children in line at the mall had argued and insisted to the point in which Maya left without her hot chocolate, crying over the phone as Josh tried to console her the best he could.
Maya leaned into her husband on their couch that night, reading over the pamphlets the doctor had provided her for care after birth, and she only cried harder, feeling as if she was ridiculed for choosing c-section. But it was obvious that the woman hadn't known everything they've been through.
She didn't know that having a baby, let alone twins was a difficult journey for the two of them and was quick to make the assumption that Maya wasn't doing what was best. It was clear she hadn't know she was pregnant with twins. It was clear she didn't know that Maya could bleed if she gave birth normally anyways, and twins were just as high risk. And with that realization she forgave the woman, knowing that if she saw her again that she'd just smile and nod, realizing you couldn't change how people treated you, but how you react to it.
"Maya, we both know this isn't an easy way out. Motherhood and pregnancy isn't easy, but we've overcome so much. God strengthened us and we conceived twins, but after this journey, no matter how these babies arrive into this world, you're still a mother, i'm still a father, and that won't change." Josh holds his wife close, feeling her heartbeat with his, her tears soaking his flannel but he wouldn't move, his job as a husband to be also a friend, comforter, family.