Baby A and Baby B – 8 weeks, 6 days
Early in October of 2011 I was thrilled to see a positive pregnancy test. It worked out well because the following week I had my yearly appointment with my OB-Gyn. I let the nurse practitioner know that I was pregnant. She looked at my chart and immediately asked if I’d like her to call a prescription in for Zofran right away. Though it had not begun, given my history of hyperemesis gravidarum (i.e. really awful all-day sickness brought on by pregnancy) during my first two pregnancies, we were both certain that I would once again be plagued with this challenge throughout my pregnancy. I left my appointment knowing my prescription was awaiting me at my local pharmacy and had an ultrasound scheduled in just a few weeks.
In the meantime we announced to our friends and family that we were excited to be expecting another baby. Bradley, who was six years old at the time, was particularly thrilled. So much so, that he announced to us one day that he knew we were going to be having two babies. And I responded by letting him know that we weren’t going to have two babies. He questioned how I could know such a thing. I let him know that it was very unusual for people to have twins unless they ran in families or needed fertility medication.
I asked him what made him so sure that we were going to have twins. He simply let me know that God told him.
Fast forward to November 18. I’m now horrifically sick. Following the pattern of my first two pregnancies, this pregnancy was even worse. Despite starting on Zofran as soon as the sickness started, I couldn’t keep any food down and could only keep down minimal liquids. This is the desperate state in which I showed up at my ultrasound appointment.
My husband and six-year-old son accompanied me to the appointment. I told my son there wouldn’t be much to see because the baby was so tiny, but he insisted on going. The ultrasound tech started the exam and almost immediately, without much fanfare said, “Well, I know why you’re so sick.”
My heart sank. I knew there must be something wrong. I said, “Oh no, what’s wrong?”
She responded, “There’s two.”
Confused, I questioned, “Two what?”
“Two babies,” she retorted.
I still couldn’t seem to wrap my mind around this. I knew that I certainly didn’t have two babies inside of me so I simply responded, “No there’s not.”
She insisted while showing me the screen, “Yes there is. Look here.”
My husband screamed. Literally screamed. I laid back and stared at the ceiling in shock. My son simply folded his arms, grinned, and claimed “I knew it. I knew we were having twins.” He was the only one in our family that didn’t seem to be surprised by this turn of events.
Dylan and Elliot – 11 months old