The ABC's of Double Trouble: A is for "A Wish"

It was the first week of January in 1981 when it all started to evolve. Maybe it was the fact that I lived with twins of triplets (two of the three in the set) when I met my children's father. He was sitting on a couch at the Longboat Key Golf & Tennis Club. I was waitressing there. ("Coffee, tea or Häagen-Dazs?") In spite of the most hideous yellow and white uniform I was wearing, I could sell the pants off of the patrons by invigorating them with the vitamins and nutrients of frozen dessert and have the customers begging for more.
Our friendship bloomed from a cold cup of calories, a warm trade wind, and a purple orchid. Then my education blew me back home to the Michigan-April thaw, and I began to study diligently once again.

Over the years and in spite of distance, our bond became stronger. And to make many l e n g t h y… painstaking… stories… short, eventually I moved to the Chicago-tundra area. We endured the long-distance dating scenario, and we were married the first week of January in 1986.

After we were blinded by numerous coincidences. We discovered that our family and friends have been intertwined since our early teens. So for quite awhile we decided not to go to anymore family gatherings for we did not want any unfounded revelations that we were blood related…

It truly is amazing being a newlywed, you're exploring new horizons with a friend and lover. You may have seen a thousand sunrises and sunsets, but now each explores a new rainbow of brillance; each explodes and dies with a Phoenix of renewed life.

You go out to dine. You treat yourselves to a bottle of wine. It's so amazing because doesn't even hurt your pocketbook to do it either. With a glance, you're not just dating anymore; you're experiencing how someone talks and walks; bounces and burps; and when they have a feverflu, so do you (and you call your mom to find out what to do). So once in the wee early hours, after a "night on the town", that little cramp in my side just wouldn't go away. Tony took me to the hospital and we discovered that we were in the family way.

Edie Marie was a surprise child, not an unwanted child; she was simply at least eighteen months premature. We planned on the pregnancy, just two to three years later in our marriage. At the time, her dad and I were such good friends, because that sure helps when you get married on basically New Year's and by Thanksgiving, you have a family.

We're still uncertain how that happened. We used "protection". "Safe Sex" in that day and age basically when we grew up meant not getting pregnant in the back seat of a car, if you will.

Anyway, I was on a salt-free diet for the nine-month duration, the eighty pounds I put on didn't even account for my swollen legs and feet. Plus no matter what I did, I simply could not keep my eyes open. I can't tell you how many times I fell asleep on my desk at work. When I got home, I would literally fall on the floor or the bed with coat, purse, boots/shoes still on. I never heard the phone ring or anyone knocking on the door. After a while, Tony would just ask the neighbors to see if my car was in the parking lot, and if it was everyone just assumed I was in the alright asleep postion.

And I would like to know who was the person that talks about the beauty of birth? S/he must be an ill-humored comedian. Edie Marie was a stargazer and, she still is because she shines on the stage. Hours of labor, P A I N, frustration, and a high fever (on my account) led my OB/GYN to a diagnosis that I couldn't hold my baby for four days.

I have feelings I've lived in the Frontier Life, conquering the art of cowboys and equestrian dramatics, and dying not by the hand of the law for dastardly deads involving the Dalton Gang, but of the venemous bite of ophidiophobia or herpetophobia. In this life, I died in an auto accident, "had an out of body experience", "saw the light", and "came back" through "the long black tunnel". But at the moment in time, we're discussing, in my delirium, I was quoted as saying:

"You can fool me about the beauty of birth once,

but it's never going to happen again!!!"

"I guess it was worth it!!!"

&

"I know I died of childbirth in another life!!!"

And if you really want to find out any of the facts or details of that week of our life in the hospital, you'll have to ask her dad. Because it's still a blur for me. He can tell you about the antics of sweet Sargent Nurse Carol. Maybe this sounds unfeeling, but all I knew is I never wanted to go through pregnancy, labor and delivery…again.

But time goes on, and the only thing constant in life is change, and with change comes an overabundance of bends in the road. Some of the roads are paved with fortune, others are formed from the deep red or blackend earth, and some are full of unexpected pot holes that can be patched come spring or fall.
So perhaps, it was after our daughter was about four, when I found my friend, Margaret, sneaking around our bedroom and putting her electromagnetic spectrum crystals between our mattress and box springs. It was the red coral, moonstone, black onyx, turquiose, rose quartz, and carnelian that would make the difference and change our lives. They are symbolic of fertility. And since, of course, she had five children of herself, why not spread the wealth of love, serenity and fortitude.

Then it came to pass, and had we had known that this day was going to be the ultimate beginning of the rest of our lives, we would have marked it on our calendar.

Santa Claus & Our Miss Edie Marie ~ December 1991

What we do remember, however, was that it was December 1991. Although, Miss Edie Marie Peshe Miriam Langer, wasn’t in kindergarten yet, she just had her fifth birthday a couple of weeks before. We went to Towne & Country Mall in Arlington Heights, Illinois to do some holiday shopping.

In the past, we had always walked by every Santa Claus, every elf, every helper. Edie had always been afraid of Santa. She never wanted to sit on Santa’s lap. She never wanted to tell Santa what she wanted for Christmas. She never wanted Santa to set foot in our house. We even had to arrange with Santa to deliver Edie’s gifts to the post office and then we had to pick them up in the middle of the night way before Christmas morning to bring them all home.
But for some reason, that day was different. “What’s this? You want to sit on Santa’s lap?” And that’s exactly what she proceeded to do.

Her dad and I thought perhaps she wasn’t feeling well or she was really losing it. But that wasn’t so at all. Edie knew what she was doing. She didn’t even want us to stand in line with her. She had every thought planned out. She was confident. She was in charge. She sent us way off to the side.

It was Edie’s turn. She sat down on Santa’s lap. Edie and Santa started talking.

Suddenly we heard, “Ho, ho, ho!” Santa was actually laughing for real, “Edie Marie, where are your parents?” Edie pointed to us; we crept closer. And Santa looked us over. Then he said, “Well, honey, sometimes Santa has a hard time delivering some things. And there are some things that Santa doesn’t make at the North Pole.” His words began to soften a little and we could only hear a word or two from time to time: “…life…love…God…faith…future…” The two seemed to be having a conversation on the philosophies of life.

They talked for several m i n u t e s . Needless to say, the big man's line was increasing in size, and the other children in line were becoming antsy and impatient. All the two of us could think and say to each other was, “What on earth did our child ask for?” She's never wanted a thing to do with the man before; I mean get out the silver cross; and now this?

Edie stood up, turned, walked down the podium, and looked at us. Her lower lip was curled into her mouth a little and her eyes were huge. We asked, “Well?”

She said, “Santa’s really nice.” She was smiling from ear to ear.

“Well, what did you ask for?” we asked simultaneously.

“Twins!”

We looked at each other, “Twins?!?”

“Yep, that’s right. Real babies, not dolls you know,” Edie said with utmost authority.

“Edie, Mummie doesn’t even have a baby in her belly.”

“Yes, I know.”
A couple of days later, we found this on the kitchen table.