“Well. Usually we wait for the doctor to give the patient this kind of information…”
Wow. The begining of that sentence was almost as bad as the ultrasound technician excusing herself after 30 seconds of my very first ultrasound. She had hardly put the wand to my belly before leaving the room….. I began to pray. My worst nightmare had come true…
I am a worrier. I worry about what people think of me (shallow, maybe, whatever), I worry about what to wear every day (it’s commonplace for me to change outfits three times before I find the “right” thing to wear, even if i’m headed to the grocery store), I worry about flying on airplanes, driving with my kids in the car, I worry about blowing up at the gas station. I’m paranoid about our house catching on fire or leaving the oven on or a candle burning.
I worry that I worry too much.
(What a wierd word – worry.) (Alliteration, I love it.)
Needless to say when I found out I was pregnant, I worried. I worried my baby would not have arms or legs. It would come out with its face rearranged like a Picasso painting. The baby would never grow teeth so we’d have to get fake ones put in when it got old enough. The baby would have to live through a feeding tube due to some wierd genetic problem. The baby would be born with its organs on the outside. The baby would be born with every imaginable awful disease known to man. Worst of all, as my ultrasound date neared I became sure that my child would be stillborn. Certainly, that would be the worst thing to ever happen to my unborn child. And at our first ultrasound, there it would be, undeveloping with no heartbeat anymore.
The heartbeat. WOW. The heartbeat. Like horses racing at the Track. Pudadum Pudadum Pudadum Pudadum. That was the coolest thing ever. We had heard it a month before at my very first doctor’s appointment. She took a while to find the heartbeat but after searching my entire belly she was able to find it! Joy to my ears, the first proof to me (other than my excruciating morning, noon, and night sickness)…it was my baby saying “hi mom and dad, i’m in here!” Life created inside of me. The heartbeat.
(Note to Reader: I write “heartbeat”, not “heartbeats”. Once the doctor found the “heartbeat” we didn’t look farther for second beat… why would we? I had no idea I’ve been dropping multiple eggs.)
So, back to the first ultrasound… I was up all night before our appointment. I couldn’t sleep. Tossing and turning, I kept imagining the worse, preparing myself for the worse. I was sure the heartbeat had disappeared, sure that this gift from God had been taken away. Baby had been sent to Hubby and myself as a sign that we were meant to be together and that this long-distance relationship was worth the distance. (We had both prayed for a sign earlier in the month we conceived…God is a funny guy…) So when the ultrasound technician excused herself from the room…. I was sure the worst news was to come.
Well. It wasn’t the worst news. As per usual, my worrying was for no reason. In fact, I had worried about just the wrong things. I hadn’t worried that maybe there were two babies. In fact, it hadn’t crossed my mind other than when friends joked about teeny, tiny me having twins or triplets! “That’d be hysterical. You’d be bigger than a house!”, they’d say. HAH. Little did we all know…
So the technician comes back in the room and begins the dreaded sentence:
“Well, usually we wait for the doctor to give the patient this kind of information…” Hubby is holding my hand… “Congratulation kids,” she says, “You’re having twins!”
I shot straight up from lying down into a seated position. “WHAT?!?!?!?!”
“WHAT?!?! Are you serious?”, says Hubby.
“WHAT?! Wait. What?!?!”, I say. And start to burst into a fit of the giggles.
When I’m nervous or at inappropriate times (funerals, Mass, etc) – I giggle. I can’t help it.
And there they were, our two little peanuts. That’s what they looked like: peanuts. All my worrying and there they were, with TWO heartbeats.
Hubby paced the tiny ultrasound room while the techncian (flustered from her find and also from the fact that she wasn’t familiar with doing scans of more than one baby) continued to count arms and legs, measure the babies, checked the heartrates, and got us a beautiful picture of our kids. Head to Toe…
Our wild, crazy, unexpected life had just begun.