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I wake twenty minutes before the alarm with a smile on my face. This has lately become my favorite sliver of the day. No one knows I do this, not even Ana, who's none the wiser now as she snoozes next to me. I tip-toe my fingers to the edge of the comforter and gently peel it and then the sheet away from her belly, then inch her satin camisole up to expose the bare skin of her bigger-than-even-when-we-went-to-bed-last-night bump. She's glorious and breathtaking and thankfully she's still asleep. This pregnancy has her out like a rock, so hopefully she won't wake up during what I'm about to do. She hasn't yet.

"Good morning kids," I whisper into Ana's belly and I can feel the babies stir at the sound of my voice. I think they like me. I hope so. Either that or they're asking each other who this weird dude that jabbers on and on before 6am everyday is. I purposely wake at this time each morning so we can have a few minutes alone before the start of the day. I like to talk to them. We don't converse about anything especially groundbreaking—mostly the weather (in the womb and out), or what they want to be when they grow up, or how they're always going to listen to their father. I also gave that last instruction to Teddy and Phoebe en utero—well, maybe the third and fourth time's the charm. It really doesn't matter what we talk about, I just like these few precious minutes before the light of morning steals me away. This special little pocket of time just for me and them.

"Did you have a good sleep?" I ask, lightly stroking Ana's skin. "I hope that Chinese food your mother had a craving and sent me out for didn't keep you up." I feel a flutter from the one on the right side of her belly and I can't tell if that's a yes for good sleep or a vote against late night Szechwan Palace. I think that's the chattier of the two—the one on the right. The right side always gets up first and seems to gab away. Or maybe it's all just gas from the egg rolls. But, I'd like to think it isn't.

"We get to find out about you two today..." There's a rumble on the left side and I don't think gas would have such perfect timing. "You excited, too? But you already know what you are." Double flutters. No, not gas; definitely babies. It's only flutters now, but when they really start full-on kicking it's going to be a soccer match on Ana's bladder. I better get ready for having no sleep at night, before I have to get ready for having no sleep at night.

"Give me a hint—blue or pink?" There's no response. I put my ear to her belly so I can hear for grumblings better. "You're just like your mother, aren't you? You like to keep me on my toes."

Grumble Grumble.

I smile against Ana's skin and turn to give her belly a kiss; it's soft and sweet and I hope somehow my babies can feel my warmth beneath it.

Boys or girls... I've been going over and over the possibilities lately in my mind. If it's boys, Teddy and I will have some troops on our side and we'll be well on our way to a baseball team. If it's girls, I'll be so outnumbered I'll never win a family vote again—not that I ever do anyway—and I'll definitely have a heart attack by fifty. Oh who am I kidding, the heart attack is happening regardless. But, the good kind of heart attack. The one that feels worth it.

It seems like yesterday we brought Teddy home, all swaddled up in that blue blanket and teddy bear jumpsuit Mia gave him. Having a baby was all so new then. Ana was a pro immediately. I, on the other hand, was a terrified, elated, exhausted mess of emotions I never knew existed before. I was sort of like that trail mix you get at the Whole Foods; the kind where you find something sweet, tart and a new kind of nutty in every bite.

He cried so much those first weeks. It was day and night, but mostly night. Only two things soothed him. One was me driving with him to the local liquor store, always after midnight after a scenic route through the neighborhood. It had to be Carnival 8 Liquors with the lit-up clown on the sign that waves. I found the thing terrifying, be he absolutely loved it. I kept the car running as he watched the neon clown, eventually falling asleep with the hum of the engine rocking him. He looked so peaceful and sweet. I, on the other hand, looked like some creep scoping out the drink joint, looking to hop some beer and make a run with it. My great fear was that paparazzi were going to catch me with my newborn son outside this place and headlines would read: Billionaire Bails on Bride and Boozes with Baby Boy on Board, but thankfully they never did.  And the second thing was him laying on my chest as we watched Mexican soap operas at 3am. I don't know what it was about it, but that telenovela passion filled Spanish made him sleep like a log and I found myself wanting to catch the next episode just to see if Pablo manned up and confessed his affair to Lola who was already screwing shirtless stable boy Antonio in the barn that jealous Marina was about to set on fire. Teddy loved the warmth of my chest... It was a novelty to give comfort from a place I only knew pain before Ana. And it surprised me how much I loved to hold him there. Yes, it would be nice to have two little mini me's to teach how to throw a ball again, or crash cars into stacks of blocks, or have man talk over mashed bananas and apple juice. I miss having a little boy. Sure, Teddy's still only six, but then again he's almost seven.

But then I think of little girls... If I thought I was afraid finding out I was having a boy, I could never have imagined the depth of terror instilled in me when Dr. Greene looked at the ultrasound and said those three words—it's a girl. Of course I loved Phoebe completely already, and heck she was the only baby we've actually planned for, but deep down I feared I would do everything wrong for a daughter. Until I held her in my arms and she looked up at me with those blue eyes like her mother's and I knew it was impossible for me to ever do wrong by her. It's interesting, when a father holds a son he looks forward to the good man he'll help shape him one day to be, but when that same father holds a daughter all he'll ever see is his baby girl.  And though I don't tell this to anyone, except maybe Ana, I do love wearing those silly hats to Phoebe's high teas, and playing dolls, and getting my hair done with Chester, and just being allowed the privilege to be a mere peasant in her royal court. The heart I never knew I had is bursting with pink unicorn poop because of my girl. And to think I could crown three daughters real life princesses... Well, there's not much better a father can do in life.

Boys or girls?—yes.

"Whatever you two are, I love you." I kiss Ana's belly and it feels like butterflies dancing against my smile. 

Ana stirs and grumbles. Shit, I've woken her.

"Sorry, Sir; I've been such a bad girl," she mumbles and this immediately grabs my attention. I look over and see she's definitely not awake. She's sleeping, and from the sounds of it, sleeping well.

"Cover your ears, kids," I say into her belly and then look to Ana, who's all sweaty and flushed from whatever dream she's having.

"I didn't eat my strawberries..." Why does she always have erotic dreams about strawberries? Because food is taboo to her? "Oh please, have mercy," she says. I slink my way up the length of her body so I'm facing her.

"What do you want me to do to you?" I whisper into her ear and she bucks and shudders. Her eyes are fluttering as she licks her lips and groans. It's like she's watching a porno on the backs of her eyelids.

Oh this could be fun.

I run my fingertips over her satin covered nipple and she gasps.

"Please, let me come, Sir," she says, breathy and wanton. Damn this is hot.

"Like this?" I pinch her nipple and she nods, begging me with her moans. I hope the babies aren't listening to this.

"That's not for you to decide, is it?" I ask and she shakes her head as I pull her breast outside her camisole. "I'll decide how I make you come." I nip and tug at her peak.

"Yes, Sir," she murmurs and my cock jumps.

I move my fingers down her body and trace the top edge of her panties. "I think I'll make you come like this." I slip my fingers inside, luxuriously running them along her lips and between her folds, paying special attention to her swollen bud. She's so wet. God, I want a taste of her, but I don't want her to wake up without coming a geyser all over my hand.

"Feel me," I say as I tease her entrance with my fingertips, then place two fingers inside her, making sure my palm puts pressure on her clit as I pump them in and out of her. 

"Oh god, please... yessss," she cries, moving her hips to my torturous rhythm.

"Whose are you? Tell me and I'll let you come."

"Yours," she says and shivers. "I'm yours, Sir. Always." I smile at always.

"Good girl," I say and I can feel her quickening and pulsating. She's warm and dripping and biting her lip as her breath hitches and she tips her head back in ecstasy.

She's so ready. God, I'm in love.

"Come for me, Ana," I say and on command she explodes. I bring my mouth to hers to absorb her moans. This is so fucking hot.

I pull back and suddenly her eyes pop open.

"Oh my god," she pants. "What just happened?" She's still breathless and more than a little confused.

"Apparently, you were having a dream about strawberries," I say, removing my fingers and showing her the evidence of her satisfaction before popping them into my mouth. "Mighty fine, Mrs. Grey."

She doesn't say anything, she just launches herself at me and as the alarm finally goes off I'm moaning a garbled version of her name into the flesh of her neck as I spill myself inside of her.

#######

"I think it's gonna be turtle people who are boys," Teddy says as he eats his breakfast, more oatmeal going on his shirt than in his mouth.

"You think your mother is having turtles?" I ask and Ana laughs as she nibbles her bacon. Those lips and what they did to me... God, this morning was so hot, I can't stop thinking about it.

"Yeah, but not like regular turtles, turtles from Jupiteron who are going to steal all of the people of the earth and make us robots in space!"

"Intergalactic turtle robots from Jupiteron?" I ask and he nods like it's the coolest thing ever. What the hell is Jupiteron?  And what is this thing he has with reptile-kind taking over the world? I think he's been watching old Godzilla movies with Elliot again. At least he's over those Mexican soap operas. I can't stand the suspense of cliffhangers like that anymore. "Good to see you think so highly of your siblings."

"Mommy can't have turtles!" Phoebe says, blowing her bangs, exasperated as she rolls bacon up in her pancake, dips it in syrup and eats it like a breakfast fajita. "Mommies can only have baby peoples and the cutest things like kittens and chickies and hamsters." Chester, in Scooby Doo pajamas and oversized furry purple bedroom slippers on his back feet, stands on her shoulder, waving his paws in agreement. Or maybe he's just trying to grab a hunk of her pancake.

"Hey, stop eyeing my wife, Chester," I say as I take a bite out of my toast and he turns his ass to my buttered bread. Typical. That lazy rodent is going right back to his Barbie dream house waterbed as soon as Phoebe leaves for school.

"We better get you two washed up," Gail says, encouraging the kids along.

"Ugh!" the kids say, almost in unison. Chester swipes the piece of pancake Phoebe just set down and scurries back up to her shoulder.

"Yes, go get ready," Ana says and they both grimace and grumble as they drag themselves up from their seats like they're wading through a river of molasses as they head to the door.

"Don't look so excited to get an education," I call after them.

"Why do I gotta go to school?"Teddy asks.

"So you don't become a trash man."

"But, I wanna be a trash man," he says and I shake my head.

"I wanna be a ballerina princess president who doctors animals and makes dresses and does make-ups for peoples and spies for good peoples to get back from the bad ones their stolen houses," Phoebe says.

"Exactly; go to school," I say.

Ana laughs as she starts to clear the plates and they head out with Gail.

"What do you think you're doing?" I ask.

"Cleaning up from breakfast," she says.

"Let Gail do that." I stand and take the plate from her hand and set it back down.

"She's getting the kids ready for school."

"Ana, the dishes can wait. I don't want you tiring yourself out."

"You didn't seem too worried about that this morning," she giggles.

"Well, that's one of the activities that's encouraged on the list."

"Oh really? On what list?"

"Mine; sex, eating, sleeping, shopping and nothing else."

She laughs and then squeals as I wrap my arms around her and pull her back against me. "Are you excited to find out today?" I nuzzle her hair as I stroke her belly and she places both of her hands on top of mine.

"About that..." she says and slowly turns to face me, taking my hands in hers. What's this? "I was thinking maybe we shouldn't find out today."

"What do you mean you don't want us to find out the sex of the babies today?" I pull back. "I can't go all the way until delivery not knowing. How can we paint the nursery appropriately, or pick out names, or assign the proper security detail?"

"I didn't mean we won't find out at all. I meant just not today."

"You want to reschedule the appointment? Why?"

"No; we're going to the appointment. It's just that some moms told me about a cute idea..."

"Oh no!" I hold my hands up in the air.

"You don't even know what the idea is," she says.

"Trust me, I don't have to. Nothing those moms come up with is a good idea. Ever. Look at their husbands."

"Christian!"

"It's true; a cute idea for those moms is bedazzling old sweatpants from some shit they saw on Pinterest."

"It's really clever—"

"It's sweatpants, Ana. All you need is a glue gun and plastic rhinestones; since when did that require an online recipe?" She laughs. "You know, Phoebe could glitter those craft hungry broads under the table."

"No, I'm not talking about the sweatpants; I'm talking about the idea for us!"

I rub my brow and sigh. She's not giving up on this.

"Okay, for shits and giggles—" She giggles, of course. "Impart me with this Nobel prize worthy idea, why don't you."

Drumroll...

"We have a gender reveal party," she says.

"What? No, never! That sounds absolutely perverse!"

"Hear me out. We have a party—like a pre-baby shower— and we find out in front of all our friends and family when we cut the cake. What do you think?"

"I think I have a better idea—we don't."

"Christian—"

"What does cake have to do with it, anyway?"

"If it's a blue cake it's boys, if it's pink it's girls..."

"This whole thing sounds like a nightmare I would have."

"Why?"

"Because something special like that shouldn't be announced with me eating baked goods for a crowd."

"It could be so much fun to be surprised."

"Surprises and parties and me don't make an equation that ever equals fun." She thinks this is all hilarious. "Besides, I don't like to be surprised, not even by myself."

"You said you liked being surprised when I wore that leather g-string."

"Ana, your ass and cake aren't the same thing." Well, actually maybe...

"Seriously, why would I want to find out the sex of our children in front of Jose?" I ask.

"He might not be there; he's been in the desert somewhere taking photos for an exhibit."

"Oh, trust me, he'll be there. If he has to hitch onto the back of a sand crab and then float up a river on a raft of sticks held together by his father's fishing line and his old gum, he'll be there."

"Yes, and just think..." she inches closer and starts to play with my fingers. She knows I'm mush when she does that.  "It'll be a whole party focused on the products of our lovemaking."

I look at her for a moment. She's still playing with my fingers. She's seriously giving me a hand job.

"Why do you do that?" I ask.

"Do what?"

"Say something like that so I can't possibly refuse?"

"So you're not refusing?"

"I didn't say that."

"You actually did."

"Ana—"

"Come on, your mom and my mom would love it!" That's true; they would. Better hide the tequila and find the smelling salts. "Your sister would go crazy for it!"

"Okay, even if I did agree to it—which I'm not saying I am—how does this even take place? Who orders the cake? Dr. Greene?" Hell, the president of the chess club at the local high school would throw a better party on a dry Wednesday afternoon in the band room than Dr. Greene. The only fun that woman has in life is collecting our checks and soaking in her hot tub with that out-of-work Brillo pad of a husband, trying to think up ways to sabotage our future birth control for profit. I would suggest we leave her for this, but I do love all her work so. 

"No, we have Dr. Greene write it down and seal it in an envelope and we give it to someone close to us who is in charge of the cake."

"Who's close to us that bakes—Gail?"

"I thought maybe Kate," she scrunches her nose and bites her thumb tip as she says it.

"Kate doesn't bake! She barely re-heats."

"No, but she could take the information to a bakery."

"Oh no, she can't know first! She's not lording that kind of knowledge over me—"

"Please, Christian. It would only be a couple of days. And she wants to help throw the party. She's great at throwing parties."

"Yeah, keg stands!"

"Christian—"

"You've already talked to her about this?"

"She was one of the moms with the ideas."

Of course—Kavanagh would dream up a situation where she's the only one with the scoop on my life. She's probably bored at that rag she works at and needed to get her jollies off somewhere and being able to mind fuck me for days on end seemed like a good way to pass the time.

"I don't know, Ana." I move to sit back in my seat.

"Please," she says, sitting in my lap. "We could get the party together for the weekend." She wraps her arms around my neck and lays her head on my shoulder. "I think it could be really fun and it would mean a lot to me..." She plants feather kisses on my neck and of course I'm jello and I know jello doesn't have a leg to stand on.

"But, if you really don't want to do this, then we won't," she says and I know she's sincere. She's given me an out, why don't I take it?

"But, you want to?" I ask.

"I think it sounds like so much fun."

Being the caveman I am, of course I cave, man.

"Fine," I sigh and she gives me a big kiss on the lips. "On one condition..." I murmur against her mouth.

"Anything." She pulls back, beaming at me. I do like to see her happy. Even at the expense of my better judgement.

"We have the party Saturday afternoon..." I say. "And then we take a trip to Escala that evening..." I run my finger down her chest to her belly. "To really celebrate the making of our babies."

"I think we've celebrated quite a lot since the initial event."

"Yes, but you can never celebrate too much." I nip at her earlobe and run my fingers down her thigh. "And I want to celebrate in private with you." I kiss her neck. I'm tempted to make a hickey there, but I know how she gets about that. And with her pregnancy hormones and a still hot frying pan nearby, I won't tempt fate. "I thought maybe we could make your dream this morning a reality."

"You don't have to twist my panties to get me there." She giggles.

"Oh, though I so want to..." I run my hand over her hip and thigh, and then under the satin of her robe until my fingers find her panty edge."I'd rather tie you up in them." 

"How about now?" she whispers in my ear and blows, sending shivers up my spine.

"We have to take the kids to school soon and then go to the appointment."

She gets up off my lap and heads to the door, turning to me as she reaches it, and opens her robe.

Holy shit.

She hooks her fingers in her panties and peels the green satin down her milky white thighs and calves and over her ankles. I imagine my tongue following such a delicious path of vanilla goddess goodness. 

"Work fast, Boy Scout," she says and throws them to me. I catch them just before she makes her way out the door.

"Damn," I say to myself as my dick salutes, and honoring my Cub Scout turned Man Scout, I dutifully follow her upstairs to earn another patch for good behavior. 

#######

"Don't ask any sex questions," Ana whispers to me as we sit out in the lobby of Dr. Greene's office. Why the hell are we sitting out here, anyway? I pay Dr. Greene enough, she should make house calls like the old days. Sure, in the old days all she'd have to carry is a faulty shot and a judgmental scowl and now it would be ultrasound equipment and such, but still... I could have a state of the art exam room made for her in our home. With all the kids we have, it'd be an investment. And I wouldn't have to sit next to some mousy woman reading an article about chronic yeast in Woman's Day who's own day passed go north of 1992. The least Dr. Greene could do is take us on time.

"Ana, a man has to know these things to be safe," I say. Yeast Woman nods her head, though I don't think she's agreeing with me, it looks like she vehemently relates to something in the article.

"Christian, I could've told you that the extra weight of twins doesn't sag the uterus so much your penis will hit them and cause neurological damage," Ana says.

"I wanted a professional to back that opinion up." I point a finger. "I broke your water with Teddy, don't you forget it."

She giggles. Why does she always giggle at this?

I see Dr. Greene's invested in a television circa 1985. It's probably the one she had at home before she put the screening room in on the Grey family dime. Two small boys are watching a Sesame Street focused on the letter Z. It's a favorite episode of mine.

"And if you ask her if the six week rule for no sex post birth is doubled for twins one more time, I'll make sure it's twelve," Ana says. She's a spitfire today, reading her US magazine. You would think she'd be a little more relaxed after four orgasms this morning and all that regurgitated Hollyweird gossip that numbs the brain.

"Ana, the thought just terrifies me so; I need to be certain." Yeast woman is laughing now. I look over. She's still reading the yeast article. Troubling.

"Horsey!" One little boy yells at the top of his lungs as a picture of a galloping striped animal flashes on screen.

"No, that's a zebra," I say and the kids just look at me.

"Nuh uh," the other boy says. "That's a horsey with muddy side parts."

"Believe me, I know this episode. Z is for Zebra," I sound it out. People around are looking at me like I'm insane.

"Christian, stop arguing with the children," Ana says.

"I'm not arguing; I'm educating."

"Well, do the educating at home."

"That sounds intriguing." I raise a brown and she rolls her eyes.

"Is this your first?" some woman who's knitting socks in a dress that looks like the flag of Ireland mated with the flag of Spain on a drunken night in Rome, says. That's probably the story of how she got pregnant.

"No," Ana says. "Our third."

"Our fourth!" I say.

"No, it's our third pregnancy," Ana says.

"Yes, but it's our third and fourth."

"That's true. So, four but only really three."

"You forgot?" Knit Woman asks.

"Twins," I say and she nods, returning to her booties. Why are knitters always so nosey, flipping their judgmental sticks like that? And does any child ever really wear those socks? It seems counterproductive with all the holes in them.

"Do you think she'll know we had sex?" Ana asks.

"You mean that Knit-Wit over there?" I whisper, laughing at my own joke.

"No! Dr. Greene."

"Well, that's an indication," I nod to her belly and laugh."

"No, I mean this morning. Do you think she can tell we..."

"Fucked?" I whisper in her ear.

"Shh!" Ana says, though I think that kind of turned her on. She's blushing.

"Big fat tummy like my daddy!" One of the boys yells out with arms in the air.

"That's a zero!" I say, not able to resist.

"It's a person!" The kid says.

"No, it's just an animated walking, talking zero." Oh look, I just described the photographer.

"Who is this guy?" the other boy asks.

"Big Bird's best friend,"I say.

"Really?" they both ask in unison, looking at me in awe and Ana elbows me. 

"I'm serious, Christian."

"Okay, I won't watch the TV anymore."

"No, I mean what I asked you before." She crinkles her nose.

"You're still on the sex?" she nods. "Well... Yeah, I think a doctor can tell these things during the exam."

"Really?" Ana asks. "How?"

"There are probably a few of my swimmers left from the dive."

Ana gasps, closing her US magazine fast and throwing it on the pile of others. "Oh my god, are you serious?"

"Ana, who cares?"

"Because it's too personal."

"She's looking up your vagina with telescopic equipment, that's definitely more than personal. I don't even see all that." I think I said all that too loud because Yeast Woman tore her face away from the article and is looking at me with those goggly eyes. And I deduce that she's not only interested in that article because of chronic infections; she actually has the face of a baked loaf of bread.

"Grey," that old dowager nurse Pearl calls out as she opens the door. I think she's been at this job for a hundred and fifty years and she wants everyone to suffer because of it.

I help Ana up and escort her to the door.

"In the old days we didn't let fathers come in," Nurse Pearl says with a snarl directed at my penis.

"FDR lifted that ban during the war, remember?" I say as we scoot past her inside.

Ana's legs hang over the side of the metal exam table as I stand next to her, waiting for the doctor to show.  Now dressed in that little gown, she's adorable as she swings her legs back and forth and I can tell she's nervous. We both are. I remember the first time I saw her in one of those gowns in this exam room. We had been married just under five months and we were told we were going to have a son. I held her hand then, too.

Sometimes I think about the first time she told me about Teddy. The way I behaved. That's one of the darkest moments of my life, so I don't like to relive it much, but sometimes... When I look back, I'd say most twenty-two-year old girls in the same situation wouldn't have had the guts to call me on my shit the way Ana did. But, Ana being Ana, did just that. She did what any mother should do. She did what my mother should've done. It's hard to believe I didn't want a family then. And here I am excitedly waiting to find out about twins. And as I watch her on this exam table, I realize that the only reason I'm a father at all is because Ana first was a mother.

"I love you, Mrs. Grey," I say and I lean on and softly kiss her mouth. "So much."

"What's that for?" she asks.

"Everything."

"Mrs. Grey," Dr. Greene says as she swings the door open, reading the file she plucked from outside the door as she comes inside. "Everything is looking good. Weight, vitals—"

"Don't tell her that, she's not eating nearly enough," I say.

Dr. Greene just looks at me for a second. "Mr. Grey, hello."  I think she just rolled her eyes at me! "I'm happy everything is going so smoothly, Mrs. Grey, considering your case."

"What do you mean considering?" I ask, my heart suddenly pounding in my chest.

"Twins always pose a higher risk. But, it's all going smoothly."

"What does that mean?"

"Did you hear me say everything is going well?" she asks.

"Yes, but I also heard higher and risk next to each other."

"Christian, she's saying we're fine," Ana says, stroking her belly.

I nod as I put my arm around her and kiss her head, but make a mental note to do further research about twins and potential dangers later.

"Do either of you have any questions before we do the ultrasound?"

Both and Ana and Dr. Greene look straight to me.

"Yes, I do have questions, thank you," I give them both a look. "Let's start with feeding concerns," I say as I pull out my list and start to read and they both sigh. "Now, if one baby sucks all the milk out of one breast and the other baby only sucks a little out of the other one, does the milk transfer from the milk heavy breast to the one that's been depleted, meaning the more vigorous eater get more, while the timid one starves?" This is a great fear of mine.

"Mr. Grey," Dr. Greene says. "There's no milk transfer line between breasts.

"So what if one is hungry and it all just runs out because Ana's body can't tell there are two?" Or three, with me involved.

"Believe me, she'll keep making milk. If she has any problems with production, we'll deal with it then. But, she's always been a pro."

"You're telling me." Ana elbows me. "And if I happen to get some milk—"

"Christian!" Ana says, horrified. Geez, every little thing embarrasses her.

"Mr. Grey, breast milk can't hurt you if that's what you're inferring." Hurt me? Au contraire. I'm hoping I can still count on late night snacks.

"I just want to make sure the babies have enough," I say.

"I'm sure they'll be fine," Dr. Greene says. I make a mental note to research this further, as well.

I look down at my list. "I'm also still a bit concerned with that uterus sagging issue."

"Christian!" Ana's had it.

"Mr. Grey, why don't we do the ultrasound and then you can ask questions. I'm sure there will be more once we know the genders."

"No, actually we don't want to know," Ana says.

Dr. Greene looks at us questioningly.

"We're having a party," I say, with a slight eye roll.

"A gender reveal party," Ana says.

"Oh that's nice." Dr. Greene is as warm as a rock lost in the snow and as interested as the bark of the tree witnessing it.

"Can you write it down and put it in a sealed envelope for us?" Ana asks. 

"Of course," Dr. Greene says. "A lot of couples do that these days."

"Wonderful, we'll be like the flock," I say and Ana elbows me again. I think I'm going to have rib bruising later.

"I'll have to see if I can find a paper and envelope," Dr. Greene says.

"We don't want to trouble you too much." I smile patronizingly. "Maybe you should write it on the back of a bank deposit slip." Lord knows she has stacks of them. She ignores me per usual.

"Okay, let's do this," Dr. Greene says and gets her jelly stuff out to squirt on Ana's belly.

"Here, baby," I say, helping Ana onto her back and then sit in my little chair beside her as Dr. Greene indicates for Ana to lift her gown. It's the same chair I sat in for Teddy and Phoebe. The metal is always freezing cold and my ass cramps from it, but I consider it good luck.

"Wait," I say, preventing Dr. Greene from administering the jelly and they both look at me. "That looks like it will be cold. Warm it up a bit before squirting it on my wife's skin."

"Christian, it's okay," Ana says.

"It shouldn't cause discomfort, Mr. Grey," Dr. Greene say as she squirts it on and Ana shivers.

"See, I knew it was cold!"

Dr. Greene places her little wand on Ana's belly and moves it around. The screen lights up with live pictures of our two beautiful children.  This moment always gives me such a thrill.

"Look, there they are," Ana says and there are tears in her eyes. I squeeze her hand in response. "I see Teddy's chin on that one there." She points.

"You think?" I lean in closer, squinting. "Yeah, it does. But, that one has Phoebe's nose. They both do."

"Your nose," Ana says and we smile at each other.

"They both have strong heartbeats," Dr. Greene says.

"Everything's okay?" I ask, holding my breath.

"I'd say you have two healthy looking babies."

"Oh, Thank God." I exhale and bring Ana's hand to my mouth to kiss, nuzzling her fingers a bit.

"Well, I could impart some information..." Dr. Greene says, somewhat serious.

"Oh my God! What is it?" I ask, panicked.

"I know we weren't sure last time..."

"Tell us!"

"I am fairly confident that your twins are monozygotic."

"Oh God! What is that?!" I stand up suddenly and stumble as the blood rushes out of my head and I nearly faint.

"Identical," Dr. Greene says.

"Identical to what?" I ask, the desperation evident in my voice.

"Each other." Dr. Greene shakes her head and actually cracks a smile. "You're having identical twins."

The whole world stops.

"Oh Christian," Ana says and I move to hold her.

"Oh baby, she said—"

"Identical," she says, starting to weep."

"They'll look the same!"

"Yes!"

"They'll be beautiful, like you."

"No, like you."

"Oh Ana, I love you so much."

"I love you so much, too."

She kisses me and I passionately kiss her back to show her my love, pouring everything I feel into this kiss.

Dr. Greene clears her throat. "I know I'm in the baby making business, but I don't need to see the process."

We stop and both pull back from our embrace.

"I guess we got carried away." I look down. Shit, I had my hand on Ana's tit. I do that every time.

"Do you know what they are?" I ask and Dr. Greene nods.

I look at the screen to see if I, with my layman's eye, can see the evidence of either. I'm not sure how you see evidence of girls, except for the obvious lack of evidence of boys. But, everything I see on screen looks like a penis to me. And I suddenly regret giving Kavanagh the go ahead for this party.

How the hell can I hold out until Saturday?