This past year has been a hard one for me. I shared in December that after waiting for years to add one more child to our family, we were devastated to lose a pregnancy by miscarriage last fall. Still reeling from the experience, we were overjoyed to find out I was pregnant in January. I waited until I was almost 2 months into my pregnancy to go into my doctor, wanting to make sure nothing was going to go wrong in those early weeks like it had last time. Everything seemed to be completely normal, until the ultrasound tech wasn't able to find a heartbeat. There just wasn't one. And there had to be at that point.
It was an incredibly low point for me, having to face the fact that we may not be able to have any more children. That all those years I had waited because I just wasn't sure if I could handle another baby while dealing with the two I already had, and maybe I had missed my chance. I'm young, just 33, and it felt like maybe this was it.
I decided to take a break from the constant worrying and watching of my body to see when I could get pregnant again. Maybe in the summer I'd be strong enough to handle it if something were to go wrong again.
And then, on Mother's Day this year, I peed on a stick and watched the two lines appear. I was excited and nervous and anxious. I decided I wasn't going to go in to my doctor until I was past 7 weeks. I wanted to see a heartbeat by the time I walked out of that doctor's appointment, no matter what.
We shared our news cautiously, with a few friends and family members. We asked for them to pray for a heartbeat. For a healthy baby. For a healthy pregnancy.
And then we waited. And prayed and waited and prayed. And then waited some more.
7 weeks is a long time when it feels like your entire future is on the line.
It was finally time for my appointment to come. I was determined to have Travis with me this time, having faced the last two bad news appointments by myself. We made arrangements, told everyone the date and time and had everyone on pins and needles. And then the doctor's office called and needed to reschedule. For now. During school carpool line. So, we had to divide and conquer and I faced that ultrasound machine alone again.
I lay there and was determined to stare at the ceiling until I could hear her check the heart rate. I didn't want to see what was going on. It had hurt so much the last time to see that little peanut and then say goodbye. So. Eyes up, no peeking at the monitors, no asking questions. I was just going to zone out until she gave me the news. Stoic to the end.
Only, a minute into the procedure and she starts asking me about fertility treatments. Had I been on any since the miscarriages? Nope, I said. I just seem to have had rotten luck with two back to back miscarriages. Well, she said, this is going to make up for that. There are two babies. And they look really good.
My eyes darted to the screen, and sure enough...two little peanuts, side by side. Heartbeats just fluttering away. I laughed. I cried a little. I laughed some more. I called Travis, who thought I was joking. Nope. Not joking. I told him that I think we may have just overdone it when we asked so many people to pray for a heartbeat. God heard our cry. And boy, did He deliver.
We've known for about 5 weeks now. I've had 2 more ultrasounds. And it's slowly starting to sink in that this is really happening. Identical twins, healthy and growing. Making us a family of 6 by January 2016. We'll find out soon enough if it's going to be boys (Lord, have mercy...4 boys!) or girls (watch out UPS, my sister and mother-in-law won't be able to retrain themselves from all the online shopping!)
One thing is for certain...we're gonna need a bigger car! Can you add a mini van to a baby registry??