... and it's just now Tuesday.
Let me back up.
I always wanted to be a part of a big family. I was adopted, as was my older sister, but I always wanted more siblings. An older brother, to take care of me. A younger sister, who I could take care of. I even asked my parents once for this, suggesting we go to the "baby store" (because for adopted kids, that's where babies came from).
Of course, it never happened, but growing up, and even now, I always thought that families with four kids were the coolest. Every family I knew, and still know, that had four kids was just neat. There were always people in the house, always a friend around. Sure, they fought like any siblings, but they loved each other, knew how to share, and had a lot of laughs. The kids from these families weren't spoiled. In fact, most of them are generous and compassionate, and have carried these traits into adulthood. They knew how to help out, and they knew how to work. I had a lot of respect for these families.
When Kyle and I got married, I knew he wanted around 3 kids, but he was open to more. Having two brothers himself, he thought three boys was the perfect arrangement. But Kyle is the "pied piper," he really is. Kids adore him, are drawn to him like a magnet. And he adores them right back. I think it's genetic, because his brothers are the same way.
Anyway, Jack came along three days after our first anniversary. Sam, two and a half years later, after 5 months of fertility medicine (Clomid) and 11 months of actually trying to conceive. Obviously, this is not a fertility problem, but we knew that as I got older, the chances of us conceiving easily were becoming, well, less easy.
So, when I became pregnant this third time after only about 6 months of trying (and about 5 cycles of fertility medicine--Clomid and Letrozole), we were so excited. And I was so sick. I mean, S-I-C-K. We attributed it to so many obvious things--I'm 32 years old, not exactly "young" from an obstetric standpoint. I have two extremely active boys at home that require all my energy. This summer has been brutally hot.
Our first sonogram was at 4 1/2 weeks. I had a positive pregnancy test at home and the doctor just wanted to see if there was anything to see. I just wanted to make sure my tubes were clear.
The second sonogram was around 7 weeks. We saw one teeny-tiny baby, one diminishing yolk sac, and one strong, steady heartbeat: 140. Needless to say, we rejoiced. The pregnancy was healthy and we were well on our way to becoming a family of five.
A few days after that, I spent most of the day lying in bed, bribing my boys with Pixar and graham crackers. When Kyle came home, I told him, sadly, that I didn't think I could go through this again. Not only was this difficult for me, but I felt that I was neglecting the boys. They needed their mommy, not this sick mess lying in the bed, but me. It hurt my heart to admit it.
A few nights later, we all sat at our table, as usual, and ate dinner. I bought this table shortly after we bought our house--this nice, big family table that extends out for holiday meals. I even bought extra chairs. I wanted to fill this table. I looked around at the table, mentally thinking about where everyone would sit in a year or two. I realized that the table would never really be filled, and that I needed to make my peace with that. I needed to be OK with it, and focus on the blessings that were surrounding me... and throwing forks on the floor.
And I was OK. I really, really was.
I powered through to the 9 week check-up. My doctor had scheduled me for another sonogram. When I walked into the sonogram room, the sonographer asked me why the doctor wanted another sonogram. I told her that her guess was as good as mine. She told me this sonogram would be abdominal, so I hopped up on the table.
The wand touched my belly.
Hhhmmmm... Why does it look like I have 2 uteruses?
"Oh my gosh! You have twins!"
No, I don't, I thought. "No, I don't," I said.
"Yes! Yes you do!"
How was this possible?!? Two weeks ago, I had one baby. ONE. And there aren't a whole lot of hiding places in someone's uterus.
But there they were. As plain as day. Twin A dancing happily, Twin B more subdued, kicking one leg bud. Two separate placentas (which is what confused me into thinking about two separate uteruses). Two separate heart rates: Twin A 161, Twin B 171.
Two. Separate. Babies.
As plain as day.
The sonographer and I were screaming and laughing. I'm sure the people in the waiting room were wondering what on earth was going on. She even went back over all my sonogram images from this pregnancy, trying to see how they missed the second baby.
It didn't matter, though. It doesn't matter what happened 2 weeks ago.
The second baby is here now.
And all I can do is sing in my heart, that old, beautiful hymn, "Great is Thy Faithfulness."
After I left the sonogram room, I was sitting in the hallway, waiting to go into an exam room. I was shaking. My heart was racing. I quickly snapped a photo of the sonogram images with my phone, and emailed it to my mom, Kyle, and Kyle's mom.
It wasn't going through.
I called Kyle.
Of course, he didn't believe me. I can't blame him, the last image he saw was of one little blob with one little blobby heart beat.
I kept trying to convince him.
There was a doctor in the hallway, charting on his computer, who heard my entire conversation. He could not stop laughing. I don't blame him. The whole situation was hilarious to me, I can't imagine how comical it must have seemed to him.
Kyle really didn't believe me until he came home and saw the images for himself. Now, I think it's the images he doesn't trust. *sigh* He'll come around.
Admittedly, it's a lot to wrap your mind around. We were still adjusting to the reality of a single pregnancy!
I woke up at 2 a.m. this morning. Wide awake, unable to fall back asleep. My heart just keeps singing:
(Side note: I only know one family with 5 kids, one with 6, and one with 8. These are the most incredible families I have ever met. The reason I keep talking about families with 4 kids is because growing up, that's the largest family unit I knew.)
Let me back up.
I always wanted to be a part of a big family. I was adopted, as was my older sister, but I always wanted more siblings. An older brother, to take care of me. A younger sister, who I could take care of. I even asked my parents once for this, suggesting we go to the "baby store" (because for adopted kids, that's where babies came from).
Of course, it never happened, but growing up, and even now, I always thought that families with four kids were the coolest. Every family I knew, and still know, that had four kids was just neat. There were always people in the house, always a friend around. Sure, they fought like any siblings, but they loved each other, knew how to share, and had a lot of laughs. The kids from these families weren't spoiled. In fact, most of them are generous and compassionate, and have carried these traits into adulthood. They knew how to help out, and they knew how to work. I had a lot of respect for these families.
When Kyle and I got married, I knew he wanted around 3 kids, but he was open to more. Having two brothers himself, he thought three boys was the perfect arrangement. But Kyle is the "pied piper," he really is. Kids adore him, are drawn to him like a magnet. And he adores them right back. I think it's genetic, because his brothers are the same way.
Anyway, Jack came along three days after our first anniversary. Sam, two and a half years later, after 5 months of fertility medicine (Clomid) and 11 months of actually trying to conceive. Obviously, this is not a fertility problem, but we knew that as I got older, the chances of us conceiving easily were becoming, well, less easy.
So, when I became pregnant this third time after only about 6 months of trying (and about 5 cycles of fertility medicine--Clomid and Letrozole), we were so excited. And I was so sick. I mean, S-I-C-K. We attributed it to so many obvious things--I'm 32 years old, not exactly "young" from an obstetric standpoint. I have two extremely active boys at home that require all my energy. This summer has been brutally hot.
Our first sonogram was at 4 1/2 weeks. I had a positive pregnancy test at home and the doctor just wanted to see if there was anything to see. I just wanted to make sure my tubes were clear.
The second sonogram was around 7 weeks. We saw one teeny-tiny baby, one diminishing yolk sac, and one strong, steady heartbeat: 140. Needless to say, we rejoiced. The pregnancy was healthy and we were well on our way to becoming a family of five.
A few days after that, I spent most of the day lying in bed, bribing my boys with Pixar and graham crackers. When Kyle came home, I told him, sadly, that I didn't think I could go through this again. Not only was this difficult for me, but I felt that I was neglecting the boys. They needed their mommy, not this sick mess lying in the bed, but me. It hurt my heart to admit it.
A few nights later, we all sat at our table, as usual, and ate dinner. I bought this table shortly after we bought our house--this nice, big family table that extends out for holiday meals. I even bought extra chairs. I wanted to fill this table. I looked around at the table, mentally thinking about where everyone would sit in a year or two. I realized that the table would never really be filled, and that I needed to make my peace with that. I needed to be OK with it, and focus on the blessings that were surrounding me... and throwing forks on the floor.
And I was OK. I really, really was.
I powered through to the 9 week check-up. My doctor had scheduled me for another sonogram. When I walked into the sonogram room, the sonographer asked me why the doctor wanted another sonogram. I told her that her guess was as good as mine. She told me this sonogram would be abdominal, so I hopped up on the table.
The wand touched my belly.
Hhhmmmm... Why does it look like I have 2 uteruses?
"Oh my gosh! You have twins!"
No, I don't, I thought. "No, I don't," I said.
"Yes! Yes you do!"
How was this possible?!? Two weeks ago, I had one baby. ONE. And there aren't a whole lot of hiding places in someone's uterus.
But there they were. As plain as day. Twin A dancing happily, Twin B more subdued, kicking one leg bud. Two separate placentas (which is what confused me into thinking about two separate uteruses). Two separate heart rates: Twin A 161, Twin B 171.
Two. Separate. Babies.
As plain as day.
The sonographer and I were screaming and laughing. I'm sure the people in the waiting room were wondering what on earth was going on. She even went back over all my sonogram images from this pregnancy, trying to see how they missed the second baby.
It didn't matter, though. It doesn't matter what happened 2 weeks ago.
The second baby is here now.
And all I can do is sing in my heart, that old, beautiful hymn, "Great is Thy Faithfulness."
After I left the sonogram room, I was sitting in the hallway, waiting to go into an exam room. I was shaking. My heart was racing. I quickly snapped a photo of the sonogram images with my phone, and emailed it to my mom, Kyle, and Kyle's mom.
It wasn't going through.
I called Kyle.
Of course, he didn't believe me. I can't blame him, the last image he saw was of one little blob with one little blobby heart beat.
I kept trying to convince him.
There was a doctor in the hallway, charting on his computer, who heard my entire conversation. He could not stop laughing. I don't blame him. The whole situation was hilarious to me, I can't imagine how comical it must have seemed to him.
Kyle really didn't believe me until he came home and saw the images for himself. Now, I think it's the images he doesn't trust. *sigh* He'll come around.
Admittedly, it's a lot to wrap your mind around. We were still adjusting to the reality of a single pregnancy!
I woke up at 2 a.m. this morning. Wide awake, unable to fall back asleep. My heart just keeps singing:
Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father,
There is no shadow of turning with Thee;
Thou changest not, Thy compassions they fail not;
As Thou hast been Thou forever wilt be.
Great is Thy faithfulness!
Great is Thy faithfulness!
Morning by morning new mercies I see;
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided--
Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord unto me!
(Side note: I only know one family with 5 kids, one with 6, and one with 8. These are the most incredible families I have ever met. The reason I keep talking about families with 4 kids is because growing up, that's the largest family unit I knew.)
2 comments:
Am I the family of six you know? If not, then you know two families of six. And my kids ARE spoiled! Sorry to say. But I'll tell you the truth, it's always a party...where ever we go, Bill and I never have to do the entertaining...we ALL entertain each other. I never thought of having a big family. My sister had four before she was 25 and I thought she was nuts. I had 4 between the ages of 33 and 42...I think I'm the one who is nuts. At least she was so young, she didn't know any better. I'm too old to be chasing around a 5 year old. But then again, it keeps me young. So I may need a walker to go to my son's graduation, I'll still be mentally young right?
I really enjoyed reading this! Very happy for you guys!
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