Chapter 2 - The Departure
By the time I reached my eighth month of pregnancy, carrying triplets had turned my body into a physical fortress of endurance. Every step required deliberate effort, my ankles were constantly swollen, and sleep had become an elusive luxury. Yet, Ryan made the burden manageable. He transformed our home into an assembly line of care—cooking nutrient-dense meals, setting up an elaborate hydration schedule, and assembling three matching wooden cribs in the nursery without once looking at the instruction manuals, proudly declaring that engineering intuition was all he needed.
Then, the unexpected occurred.
Ryan’s logistics firm had been negotiating a critical international contract for nearly a year, and three weeks before my projected delivery date, a crisis erupted at their secondary facility in Frankfurt, Germany. His chief executive called a mandatory emergency meeting. Ryan was required to be on a plane within seventy-two hours.
"I’m not going," Ryan said firmly the moment he walked through the front door, tossing his laptop bag onto the kitchen island. "I’ll tell them it’s a non-starter. You’re eight months pregnant with triplets, Allison. I am not leaving this country."
I looked at him, seeing the exhaustion and worry etched deep into his features. The trip was scheduled for a total of four days—forty-eight hours of travel and two days of intense negotiation. My high-risk obstetrician had evaluated me just two days prior, confirming that my cervix was closed, the babies were thriving, and an immediate labor was statistically unlikely before week thirty-six.
"Ryan, it’s four days," I told him, placing my hands on his face. "You’ve worked three years for this promotion. If you back out now, they’ll give the European account to Henderson. We need this security for the kids."
"I don't care about the account, Allison," he insisted, his voice thick with emotion. "I care about you. If something happens while I'm across the Atlantic..."
"Nothing is going to happen," I lied smoothly, forcing a confident smile to reassure us both. "My parents live twenty minutes away. I’ll ask my mom to check in on me every day. If anything—and I mean anything—feels off, I’ll go straight to the hospital and call you."
He fought me on it for two straight days, but ultimately, the professional reality forced his hand. On Tuesday morning, Ryan stocked our refrigerator with pre-portioned meals, placed fresh water bottles on every flat surface in the house, and double-checked the emergency contact list pinned to our refrigerator.
Before he left for the airport, I dialed my mother’s number on speakerphone so Ryan could hear her assurance.
"Mom," I said, holding the phone between us. "Ryan’s flight leaves in two hours. He’s going to be in Germany until Saturday. I just need to make sure you and Dad will have your phones loud and nearby, just in case."
My mother’s voice came through the speaker, light and airy. "Oh, of course, darling! You know we’re right here. Dad’s working in the garden today, but our phones are right on the counter. Don't worry about a thing. Ryan, you have a safe flight!"
Ryan took the phone. "Diane, please. If Allison calls, I need you to go to her immediately. Don't make her wait."
"Ryan, really, you treat us like strangers!" my mother sighed with a small, melodic laugh. "She’s my daughter. Of course we’ll be there."
When Ryan hugged me goodbye at the front door, he held me for so long I could feel the rapid, frantic beat of his heart against my collarbone. He kissed my forehead, then dropped to his knees, pressing his face against my bare belly, whispering softly to our three unborn children to stay put until their daddy got back.
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When the front door finally clicked shut, the house felt vast, empty, and terrifyingly silent.
That evening passed without incident. I ate dinner, watched a mindless television show, and spoke to Ryan during his layover in London. He sounded exhausted but relieved that I was resting comfortably. By ten o'clock, I dragged my heavy body into bed, surrounding myself with a fortress of pregnancy pillows, and finally drifted off to sleep, believing we were going to pull this off.
