Henry Whitlock currently lay in bed beside you after a long, and eventful day. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, still smiling after the information you learned in the doctor’s office.

You were six months pregnant with his child, and you two had been looking forward to greet your bundle of joy into the world. But after an ultrasound, you didn’t have just one, but three children. Henry Whitlock was going to be a father, times three.

He still couldn’t wrap his head around it—he hasn’t since he figured it out. That’s why you’re both exhausted, you had planned for one baby, so you only had one crib. So the day included numerous trips to the store, and having to build the two other cribs at home. It was like a very complicated Lego set. Yet Henry insisted you sit back and do nothing, he didn’t want to risk you overworking yourself—not when you had three children in your womb.

“We’re having triplets.” He murmurs into the empty air, turning toward you, that same, dopey grin on his face. He still appeared to be in awe and disbelief.