Ultrasound - 8 weeks 4 days
October 11, 2007 — a date as memorable as my wedding or the births of each of our children. At eight weeks pregnant, it was my first visit with my doctor for this baby. Based on my other pregnancies for my other two children, Unnamed Husband and I assumed that it would be an uneventful appointment.
After the routine blood work, we head to the exam room to see Dr. P who asks the usual questions: How are you feeling? Any nausea? Any spotting?…
I begin complaining that I had never felt this bad or been so tired. “Being pregnant with a 3-year old and a 1-year old will do that to you,” he says.
He tells us that it is probably too early to hear the heartbeat with the Doppler but he tries anyway. After a few unsuccessful attempts, he send us downstairs for an ultrasound.
We wait for about 15 minutes and gradually panic sets in. The only other time I had been sent for an ultrasound this early was when I miscarried. Does he think something is wrong?
I replay the appointment in my head trying to decipher what could have indicated that something is amiss. I look over at Unnamed Husband to see if he seems concerned. He’s engrossed in the newspaper and I can barely see the top of his head over the sports section. He licks his finger to turn the page and smiles at me. Not an ounce of concern. How can he be so calm? One thing I love about him is that he always thinks everything is going to work out but at this moment, his positivity is positively annoying.
We are called back for the ultrasound and my heart is virtually beating through my chest as we walk to the back. As we wait for the tech to come in, I share my concern with Unnamed Husband who quickly blows me off.
“Everything’s fine,” Mr. Happy says as he buries his nose in the paper again. With every page he turns, my annoyance grows.
Finally the tech begins the routine process, ”There’s your ovary…, ” she says,
I glance over at Unnamed Husband still reading the newspaper. I scowl at him but he doesn’t look up. I can literally feel my blood pressure rising in anticipation of the awful news.
“There’s your two sacs….,” the tech says.
“What?!? Why would I have two sacs?” Thoughts of a molar pregnancy fill my head.
“Because you have two babies.”
Stunned, I look over at Unnamed Husband who finally folds the paper and puts it away. We are in total awe staring at the two black circles on the screen and what looks to be Teddy Grahams inside them.
“Well do you see two heartbeats?,” I scream overwhelmed with worry for a second baby that only moments ago did not exist to me.
“There are two heartbeats.” she confirms.
The next few minutes were filled with questions and emotions that my memory can only recall as the muffled speech of Charlie Brown’s teacher. “Wah, Wa wan wah wahnn wa.”
Elated, we stumble back to Dr. P’s office who smiles widely when he realizes that his suspicion was confirmed.
It takes weeks for the news to sink in that we are having twins.
And then there were four.
