freshman year of college: the april fool’s day pranks started with my roommates and extended roommates (those that didn’t officially live in our awesome, extra-large, smoking allowed corner room with its own bathroom but were always there) plotting against one of our own. i don’t remember exactly how it started but we ended up breaking into our friend jessie’s dorm room and stealing every single piece of her clothing. while i was at class, chuckling over the prank on jessie, my back-stabbing roomies duct taped each pair of my underwear to the ceiling outside of our dorm room. i’m glad my ass was much smaller and i actually spent the money on cute underwear back then because if they did it now? it would look like flags hanging from the ceiling. they wrote “now on display, kim’s underwear” or something on our door’s dry erase board. i have to admit, it was funny. later, someone returned jessie’s clothes by piling them in the hallway. there wasn’t much to do in the dorms so we invented our own fun- boy, did we.
the year after i graduated college: i was back in st. louis, living with my parents and working fulltime at the phone company from 11am-7pm. i spent my days talking angry customers down and trading new cell phones for extended contracts. this was in the days before digital cell phones. all analog and all expensive. you want a motorola star-tac? an installed car phone? let me plug the magic numbers into the formula to see if you are worth giving the company money away. are you extra nice? yes, i’ll help you. are you a dick? you probably won’t get anything. the calls never stopped coming and i spent all day appeasing customers while watching a blinking light indicating the numerous calls waiting to be answered. we were penalized if we were one second late clocking in for shifts or lunch and if we didn’t offer extra services. i worked in a department of 30 women and a very dramatic gay man- it was a pressure cooker. also, it took me up to an hour to get home from work if traffic was bad and i had a headache. when i finally got home, i headed right for my basement bedroom to collapse. i opened the door and discovered my bed was missing from my room. everything else was where i left it but my bed was missing. my dad and then 12 year old brother crept up behind me giggling at their april fool’s prank. i freaked out. i think i cried but i definitely remember screaming that i wanted my bed back within five minutes OR ELSE. my bad humor may have made it a successful prank in their eyes but i believe they regreted bringing our my inner drama queen as i shrieked, “I WANT MY BED”. While I took a shower, they retrieved my bed from the backyard and put it back in my room. I laid down on it and pouted how unfair my life was when I lived in a house where my bed was stolen. I had no idea how good I had it.
2005: It is late April and I am heading to a new OB to do my early pregnancy blood work. I knew I was pregnant because four or five pee-sticks confirmed it and had even gone to my regular doctor three weeks earlier. However, I had crappy insurance and would have had to pay 30% of the tests which was quite expensive because my doctor was out of network so I decided to wait until I could go to an in-network OB. I asked the original OB if I seemed pregnant when she did the exam and she said that yes, the size of my uterus indicated I was as pregnant as I thought I was but she did no other tests.
I was early for my new appointment so I went to The Bread Company and ate soup and read the paper. I remember sitting there and fearing the tests would show I had miscarried or had an ectopic pregnancy. I walked my nervous self over to the doctor’s office and waited. This was the first time I had been to the new office and was scheduled to see a nurse practitioner. I was early in my pregnancy and first trimester patients weren’t deemed important enough to see the doctor. After giving blood and answering a million questions, the nurse practioner was getting ready to dismiss me when I asked for an ultrasound. She sputtered back some answer about insurance not covering first trimester ultrasounds unless there was a reason (I had one with my first pregnancy so I was surprised it was offered). She asked whether I had extra pressure or cramping and I semi-lied by assuring her I felt excessive pressure. It was true, I did feel very pregnant and was unable to button my jeans before I even knew I was pregnant but I figured it was because it was my second pregnancy. The nurse told me she would try to fit me in to see their in-house ultrasound technician the next week and ordered me to get dressed. I had barely pulled my pants on and was still wearing the lovely paper gown when she came back in the room and told me the tech could see me right now. I threw on my shirt, minus bra, and practically ran down the hallway barefoot before I missed my chance.
I laid down on the table while the technician prepared the internal probe. The nurse asked if she could stay in the room with me and I told her she was welcome to stay. The probe went in and within 30 seconds, the technician loudly gasped. Both the nurse and I whipped our heads around to the monitor and stared at the tech who was, thankfully, smiling. All I remember saying was, “Tell me it isn’t twins.” She said, “Oh, it isn’t twins.” and froze the screen. With her magic picture pages pen, she circled three tiny sacs containing three fluttering hearts. “You have triplets.” My response? “HOLY SHIT.” followed by all the questions people now ask me- but how? We hadn’t done fertility treatments and there aren’t even twins in our family! The nurse held my hand and told me God works in mysterious ways. The technician printed tons of pictures and told me to meet her out front. I got dressed and walked out into a crowd of doctors, nurses and office workers who were all very excited that I was having triplets. Apparently, it was only the second set of “natural” triplets they had ever seen in their office and knew I wouldn’t be back because I was headed to a high-risk doctor for the next appointment. As they looked at the ultrasound pictures, one of them noticed the blood had completely drained from my face and my hands shaking. I remember being asked if I wanted to lay down but all I wanted was to leave the now airless office.
I walked outside and called my Mom. That’s right, not Mike, I called my Mom. She knew I was going to the doctor that day and answered the phone with a concerned yet excited tone of voice. “Mom?” I said in a very shaky voice and she immediately shouted, “WHAT’S WRONG?” I don’t remember what I said except that there were three. Her answer? “SHUT UP. This is an April Fool’s Joke. You are not.” I sat down and tried to explain that it was NOT April 1st. It was near the end of April and I was not joking. After about two minutes of this and me swearing on my son that I wasn’t lying, she finally believed me that the triplets were not a delayed April Fool’s joke.
After I talked to my Mom, I called Mike. I wish I could say I waited until I saw him in person and told him he was about to be the father of three babies in a cute, creative way but no. I called him and shakily asked him to come home. “WHAT’S WRONG?” he half-yelled and demanded I tell him that instant what was going on (I don’t blame him). I told him it wasn’t one baby, it wasn’t two babies, it was three babies. He was oddly quiet and never once asked if I was joking. He told me he would meet me at the house and that’s what we did. I walked in, showed him the ultrasound and he said something like, “Well, this is what happens in our lives.” like it wasn’t surprising at all. He was shocked but it was almost like he expected it because extraordinary things happen in his life. He told me it would be okay and eventually? it was.
This year, I didn’t pull any pranks or get tricked on April Fool’s Day. I think I prefer it this way.
