It was December 15th.
I walked into my doctor's office, and waited to be called back for my ultrasound.
I didn't know why my doctor wanted to do an ultrasound on my first visit, but I was excited at the prospect of seeing the tiny baby growing inside me, the tiny baby that I felt a fierce protectiveness over already, at however many weeks I was (I was guessing between 8 and 10, turns out it was almost 11).
Perhaps my fierce desire to carry this baby to term came from the fact that I had miscarried a baby (a very physically trying experience for sure!) about six months prior. Perhaps it came from the fact that my youngest was already 2 years and 3 months old and my arms were aching to hold a newborn again. Either way, I wanted that baby, and the thought that I could lose it was always at the back of my mind (a mom's thoughts after a mis, I guess).
So I shrugged when the ultrasound tech asked why I was having an ultrasound, but hopped eagerly onto her table to 'see' and 'hear' my baby's heartbeat.
What absolutely shocked me, was the image on the screen.
It showed two dark ovals, with one white embryo in each!
I fought tears as the technician pointed out the miracle I never expected and printed images off for me to bring home.
It was a loooong hour that I waited to see my Doctor. As I waited, and as she asked me what I thought about it all, I tried to process my feelings. Excited? Yes! Nervous? Yes!!
I held it together as I left the office and drove to the restaurant where Dean was waiting.
I couldn't say a word. I simply handed him the ultrasound pictures, then burst into tears when his jaw dropped.
I laugh at myself now for crying, and at Dean's befuddled expression to my tears. But it was just so much to take in, so much anxiety and so much joy to hold in any longer, that I stopped trying, despite the fact that people milled about us, and despite the fact that I'm not usually a crier.
Dean said a tentative "well, it's kind of exciting, isn't it?" (and later "it's going to be a great adventure!")
To which I laughed through my tears and said "yes, yes, of course. It's just very overwhelming".
I don't know what his thought process has been, but mine has been realistic. While twins is quite exciting, I am not looking at it with rose colored glasses. From the first minutes I knew, I was full of doubts about my ability to do this. I know how demanding one baby can be, I'm trying to imagine doubling that workload. I wondered how this house will keep running, how the kids will get fed and bathed, and how I myself will eat or sleep while caring for twins. I wondered if I can stay sane through their first year of life.
Oh, I know it will happen. I know we will get through it.
But I know that it will definitely be a bed of roses - beautiful yet thorny.
So, the clock keeps ticking...very slowly...as I take this twin pregnancy day by day. It feels like July is eons away (funny how it almost feels like my first pregnancy again). I don't know if I want July to be here tomorrow, or not until next year. I do know that I still feel that same fierce protectiveness for these babies, that same determination that I will have both these babies, as scary as it sometimes sounds.
I suppose I should enjoy this pre-twin period of my life, and do as many projects, work as much as I want, while I can. That is actually quite hard to do, as I feel more pregnant than I ever have at this point (17 weeks as of posting). I can't go about my normal busy life; these twins are a constant in my thoughts as I experience the exhaustion, the hunger, the nausea, the stretching and tightening, the insomnia (much of it caused by worry), and did I mention the exhaustion?
But I have decided that it doesn't pay to worry about things I have no control over. I can't worry about bed rest in the coming months, preterm labor, breech babies, C-sections, breastfeeding multiples, or finding time to shower.
I will instead take it day by day.
And every day is a beautiful day when you have two healthy babies growing inside you.
|at 13 weeks|
And I am most definitely looking forward to the day I can hold both my babies in my arms.