At the appointment, I got to pee in a cup, just to be on the safe side. I had a quick pelvic exam and the doctor said “No NuvaRing.” It was lost. I guess it came out a few weeks ago after a bout with diarrhea. That sucks. I made the determination to check for it once a week. Okay. I took a deep breath. How did the pee test turn out? I’d only been married a few months. Ryan and I wanted to wait a few years before we had kids. We wanted to be more established, with some of our bills under control. The doctor checked on the results. “The test came back negative.” I sighed. I felt some relief, some disappointment. It was strange to feel disappointment when you weren’t even expecting to be pregnant in the first place. I was also given some antibiotics for a slight stuffy nose and sent on my way.
Ryan and I met my mom for lunch at a local hot spot. Since I wasn’t pregnant and caffeine wouldn’t hurt my non-existent baby, I ordered a very large Dr Pepper along with my meal. We had told his parents and my mom that there was a bit of a ‘scare’ but now, crisis over. I admitted that I was a bit disappointed to my mom. She understood. Ryan, I think, was surprised by this admission. But everything was back to normal, except my sniffles. I filled my antibiotics and NuvaRing prescriptions that evening.
A few days later, I started to feel crappy. I was sensitive to smells, to light and loud noises, and an achy feeling all over my body. It must be a migraine and my sniffles turning into a full blown cold. I took some Advil and rested. A few days later, I was still feeling bad. The doctor said that if I wasn’t feeling better by the time my antibiotics ran out, to call the office. After a quick phone call, I had another prescription for more antibiotics. Surely, I’ll feel better in a few days.
My symptoms never got better. The smells became stronger. I became more tired. I started to wonder if I truly was pregnant. I read up on ‘symptoms’ online. I had 6 of 10. My odds of being pregnant had increased in my mind. Nervous, I went to the drugstore on my lunch break and got a 3 pack of pregnancy tests. I wanted to know right away, but I couldn’t bring myself to use the drugstore bathroom. I quickly drove home, knowing I’d be a few minutes late back to work. I couldn’t do the test without support. Ryan was at work, and had no idea I was still having symptoms, let alone I was taking another pregnancy test. I called my sister, Heidi, in Las Vegas. She sat on the phone with me while I waited the awful 3 minutes for the results. Again, the test was negative. And again, I felt relief and disappointment. But these symptoms had me thinking.
Three days had passed since a home pregnancy test said negative, yet, I was still having pregnancy type symptoms. I decided to do another test. Heck, I had purchased a 3 pack. Why not? This time, I had the courage to go it alone. Three long minutes: another negative result. Okay. I must not be pregnant.
My sniffles or cold or whatever it was had mostly gone away. I had been taking my antibiotics as prescribed. I was going to start feeling better. Any day now. Any day.
Another week went by. Still exhausted, still nauseated. I was peeing all the time. I was hungry all the time. I was a little light headed. I had been thinking about taking that one last home pregnancy test for a few days. The doctor had said almost two weeks ago that I wasn’t pregnant. Two home tests had said I wasn’t pregnant. I still had my 6 out of 10 internet symptoms. I was confused. I read that morning urine was more accurate than any other time urine for testing. I decided I’d take the test the next morning, December 12.
I woke up around 8am and couldn’t get myself back to sleep. My husband was also awake. He went upstairs to eat breakfast and do some dishes. I stayed downstairs in our room and decided to take that final test. My hands shook because I just wasn’t sure. I started to wonder why the doctor’s office had only done a urine test and not a blood test. Maybe I really was pregnant. I read the directions again, just to make sure I wasn’t missing a step. Sounded simple enough. I dipped the stick, replaced the cap, put it on the level surface of the countertop by the sink and started to wait. I turned to flush the toilet. I looked back at the stick. I knew it had been less than 30 seconds, but I was just curious.
Two lines. TWO LINES. Um. Two lines. My hands started to shake again almost uncontrollably. It showed pregnant. I was pregnant. Wait. Maybe I wasn’t. I had the new NuvaRing birth control in place. And I read somewhere that taking some types of birth control makes your body think you’re pregnant. I had no idea if I was actually pregnant.
I then keyed in to the sounds of dishes clanking: a dishwasher being loaded upstairs. Oh no. How do you tell your husband that you might be pregnant – again? I went upstairs. I took a deep breath as I entered the kitchen. “Honey?” “Yes?” He didn’t look up as he put plates in the bottom rack. “I have still been having some symptoms, so I just took another pregnancy test. It showed positive. But I think that some birth control methods make your body think you’re pregnant, so I might not be.” It was the most gentle and direct way I could say it. Since we weren’t expecting it, I knew we’d both be stressed about it. Better to be somewhat in denial and ease yourself into knowing.
I decided to call the doctor’s office. The next appointment was three days out. I don’t think it’s humanly possible to wait that long to find out for sure. I knew there had to be a way to find out. I called the pharmacy where I filled my NuvaRing. Surely a pharmacist would be able to tell me something useful.
“Home pregnancy tests actually test for a completely different hormone than what birth control is. You need to go to the doctor.” Um, that isn’t the answer I was thinking I’d get. I explained to Ryan what the pharmacist had said.
It took a few hours to accept, but I decided that the pharmacist had ‘diagnosed’ my pregnancy. I was pregnant. Ryan and I didn’t want to cause another ‘scare’ until we knew for sure. We’d keep it to ourselves until a doctor confirmed it. I decided it would be a good idea to take out the NuvaRing birth control that I was currently, um, “using” and toss it out. No need to get that refilled for a while. I checked online to make sure that I hadn’t turned my baby into a three-armed freak by having the birth control in while I was pregnant. No worries: just stop taking the birth control. You don’t need the extra hormones.
On my way to work that afternoon, I stopped by said pharmacy and picked up some generic prenatal vitamins. I didn’t know anything about prenatal vitamins. There were close to ten choices. I figured anything would be better than nothing. I picked the cheapest one.
I did a lot of internet research about early pregnancy in those few days waiting for my doctor appointment. The more I read, the more I realized that I really was pregnant. I looked up “pregnancy symptoms” and found a few articles. There was a “Top 10 Signs You’re Pregnant” article. Click. I went through the list: check, yep, not really, check, definitely that symptom, yes, not yet…. I was 6 out of 10. Um, that’s pretty significant. I’d text Ryan with little pieces of information I found out. We slowly got used to the idea of impending parenthood.
Something I found out that might be of interest: Antibiotics lessen the effectiveness of birth control. The doctor didn’t tell me when issuing that prescription. The pharmacist that fills my birth control and filled those antibiotics didn’t mention anything. And who wants to read through eight pages of pharmaceutical mumbo-jumbo for side effects of a stupid little antibiotic pill? I’d taken them before and wasn’t allergic, it was no big deal. (While on this subject, when I started to tell people about my pregnancy and the antibiotics thing, many of them got a funny look on their faces and squealed, “You didn’t KNOW that?!?” I guess not.)
Three whole excruciating days later at the appointment, I again peed in a little cup. Ryan and I waited in the exam room for a few minutes. The doctor walked in. “Well, I guess you know you’re pregnant and you just want to know when you’re due.” Not really. I did that internet research only a few hours after I found out. According to my LMP (last menstrual period) date, I was due around August 8. The doctor chatted with us for a while about what to expect, when to make our first official obstetrics appointment and who the local OBGYN’s were. We left the appointment with the confirmation that we would soon be parents. It would be months away – plenty of time to prepare. The world as we knew it was gone. A whole new experience was unfolding.
Keeping Secrets
Since we had decided to keep things to ourselves until Christmas for a cheap and exciting present for family, we had to leak the news to friends. Some of my close coworker friends knew. Some of Ryan’s coworkers knew. I emailed some friends and told them. We would have a get together at my mom’s house on the 21st and leave for the in-laws on the 22nd (also my mother-in-law’s birthday). The secret would have to be kept for almost two weeks.
The day after we found out I was pregnant, we had some semi-professional pictures taken of the two of us. It was actually a fluke. I had scheduled these pictures a few weeks in advance. I felt tired and didn’t want to wake up early to look pretty, but in the end, I’m glad I did it. I looked amazing from the glow of pregnancy. But in so many of the pictures, I had a toothy smile and Ryan’s lips were pursed. Or I’d have a far off distant look in my eyes and he’d be looking right in the camera. In most of the pictures, my hair looked terrible. There was one group of hairs that were not behaving. There was no mirror in the studio. Would’ve been helpful! I would constantly reapply my colored lip gloss in between poses thinking I was licking it off from nervousness. I didn’t know I was making the color much darker than I usually wear. Most of the pictures just didn’t look like “me.” Of the eighty or so pictures, I liked only one. Ryan and I both looked great. My hair was perfect. We had the same amount of smile on each of our faces. And you could see my wedding ring. I fell in love with the picture and coined it, “the hot picture of us.”
We told the photographer of our pregnancy news and asked for a suggestion on how to tell family. Of course the answer was “with a picture.” I sat on a stool and had my hand to my mouth as if surprised. Ryan had a big grin and knelt next to me and put one hand on my tummy. I coined this picture as “the oops picture.” This is how I would tell my family of a new baby. Ryan had other ideas. He could tell his family which ever way he wanted. He was leaning towards getting a small plastic car from the game of Life and putting a blue peg as the driver to represent him, a pink peg in the front passenger seat to represent me, and another peg in the back to represent a baby. Not my idea of fun and exciting. Not overly obvious like I wanted. But it was his news and he could tell it any way he wanted.
The Worst Day and the Best Day
Fast forward one week. I woke up early, as I had for several mornings in a row. This was very uncharacteristic of me, as I usually work until midnight, don’t get to bed until 2am, and sleep around 9 hours. I putted around the house all morning. I was scheduled to work that evening at 5pm. Ryan worked at 2pm. He wouldn’t wake up until he had to get ready for work. I went about my usual pre-work rituals of eating, cleaning, and relaxing. At about 12:30, I had the usual urge to pee, so I went upstairs to the bathroom.
I sat down and saw red blood in my underwear. My heart stopped. Could I be miscarrying? This can’t be happening. Ryan and I had just accepted the fact a baby was coming. We had decided to wait to tell everyone until Christmas. And now I was losing the baby? This can’t be. I was panicking. I thought my hands shook at the sight of a positive pregnancy test. My whole body was shaking now. I was tearing up.
I ran to our room and woke Ryan up. I tried to stay calm. I told him I had some blood in my underwear and that I thought I was miscarrying. He was instantly concerned. I knew I should probably be checked out at the emergency room. I had worked the front desk there for a few years. Lots of women believing they were miscarrying would come in teary eyed and be seen by a doctor. Since I worked the front desk, I didn’t know exactly what went on when the upset women went into the emergency room for miscarriage. I’m sure they had lab work, maybe an ultrasound. But what else did they do? I had heard of a D&C procedure (dilation and curettage) where they remove the deceased embryo from the woman’s body if it doesn’t pass on its own, as to not cause her health problems. I didn’t know much about the goings on in the ER, but I thought I’d better be seen.
Ryan had to go to work. He wanted to be with me and know I was okay, but I acted strong for him and said I could go by myself. I knew I couldn’t. I drove towards the hospital and called my sister, Aubrey, who lived in town.
My voice was shaky and weak. I asked if she would be able to accompany me to the emergency room if she wasn’t doing anything. She said she was available. I drove to my mom’s house to pick her up. I got out of the car and she met me outside. She was smiling. With a grin on her face, she said, “You’re pregnant!” I don’t quite remember my response, but it was something to the effect of “I was, but I’m miscarrying.” She was happier than I thought was necessary, considering that I was losing the baby. But I guess she was just happy at the possibility that she could have been an aunt. We drove to the ER.
I checked in and was triaged. Since it had only been about 5 years since I’d worked there, there were quite a few familiar faces. They were happy to see me, but knew by my red, puffy eyes that something was wrong. After what seemed like the longest ten minute wait of my life, I was taken to an examination room. My nurse was an old friend, but the doctor was new to me. He seemed nice. I was a modest girl and embarrassed that a man other than my husband was going to be looking and prodding ‘down there.’
The doctor reassured me that most miscarriages include severe cramping, heavy bleeding, and sometimes passing clots of blood. In retrospect, I had only been spotting a small amount – maybe the spot was the size of two quarters. The doctor said there was no real way to know if I was actually miscarrying today. There would have to be follow up blood work done to see if my hormone levels were declining. In that case, it would be easier to tell if I were in fact miscarrying. That was almost worse news: I wouldn’t know for sure for a few days.
The doctor offered that, depending on how far along I was, an ultrasound might be able to confirm a heartbeat or not. I was relieved that there was an alternative to a ‘wait and see’ approach.
My sister came with me into the ultrasound room. They asked if my bladder was full. “I feel like I have to pee.” It was probably the typical pregnant woman answer. The tech seemed new. Not quick with her movements and familiar with her equipment. I was too scared by the whole situation to let that bother me too much. She said there wasn’t enough urine in the bladder to get a clear picture and that she’d have to do a trans-vaginal ultrasound. I was to go empty my bladder completely and come back in the room.
I walked into the bathroom and emptied my bladder. I wiped and looked at the paper out of curiosity. No blood. There was hope. I hadn’t been cramping either. Just some spotting, which was normal in pregnancy. I thought, “I’d like a better explanation of how something that is potentially bad, can be normal.”
I came back in the ultrasound room and lay back on the table with a sheet over my lower half. The tech explained that trans-vaginal means ‘through the vagina.’ So they would be inserting an ultrasound wand inside to see the uterus. The instrument she held up, appeared to be a probe maybe ½ - 1 inch in diameter and fifteen inches long with a loose plastic wrapping on it. I was to insert the lubed probe ‘like a tampon’ and the tech would take it from there. Glad that the tech wouldn’t be looking in the southern region, I inserted the biggest ‘tampon’ ever with ease and the tech, without looking, took the handle.
I immediately saw a flurry of black and gray and white blobs on the television screen in front of me. Who knows what it all meant. The tech was moving the probe, clicking her gizmos, taking her time. I saw two main black blobs, very close to eachother. I know that once the egg is fertilized, it splits. Maybe these two dots were just the egg splitting. I had no idea. After several agonizing minutes, she said “I’m kind of new, so I’m going to go ask the supervisor.” Whatever is needed to know for sure, I’m game.
The tech exited the room and just a few moments later, she came back with another tech. The male tech confidently walked over to the monitor and said, “I hate to tell you this, but you’re having twins!”
My first thoughts: Oh, TWO dots. Two. That’s two dots. Two dots equals two babies. Two babies. Twins. Two of everything. Double blessings. Twice as nice? Double Trouble? Am I really having twins? Two. That’s a lot of diapers, a lot of fingers and toes. Babies cost money. Two babies will cost more money. How can we afford it? Am I going to be a good mom with twins? How is Ryan going to be as a dad with two babies? How do you breastfeed two babies? Do I need two cribs to start off with? Will they be early? Will they be healthy enough? I hope they don’t need NICU time. I’m going to be very tired for the next few years. We’re going to have to make the 300 mile trip to the in-laws a lot more frequently now. Oh, how are we going to tell them? We said it would be two years before we have a baby. This is quite a leap away from our two year anniversary. Ryan’s mom will probably be excited, but his dad will be – I don’t even know. Oh no, MY dad. How am I going to tell him? He hasn’t even met Ryan yet! How are we going to deal with two babies? TWO!
I don’t really remember my sister’s reaction, but I was in awe. Of course, my mom was a twin. I figured one of us girls would have some twin grandbabies for her. I never thought it would be me, and I also never thought it would be on the “first try.”
So, they commenced measuring the two little black dots for dates. It was determined that I was only 4-5 weeks. There were dots with nothing inside them yet. Very early. Too early to tell much, really. In retrospect, I’m glad I didn’t know much at this point. There will be a few things I touch on in later chapters, but I’m glad I didn’t know this information at this point.
I asked for a print out to show my husband. How am I going to TELL my husband? How do you tell your husband of only a few months that you’re fine and not miscarrying and its twins. I guess I could only show him the ultrasound picture. This is some week!
Some blood tests, a shot that pregnant women get (Rhogham) in case the babies’ blood type doesn’t jive well with mine, some paperwork signed, some chatting with old ER buddies and flashing the twins first photo, and I was free to go.
I was scared. I was scared to tell Ryan. I was scared of all the many things that were coming with one baby, let alone two at the same time. I was thankful. I was so happy that it looked like things were okay. I was scared that we didn’t know that for sure. I drove my sister back home and swore her to secrecy. We were waiting until Christmas to tell everyone, so she had to keep her mouth shut or I’d kick her butt. And, thanks.
How To Tell Your Loved Ones
I was driving from my mom’s house where I dropped off my sister. I was headed for my husbands work to tell him things were okay and I wasn’t miscarrying. How I was going to tell him there were two babies, I hadn’t quite figured out yet.
PLAN B! I had called in sick to work: crying to my boss that I was miscarrying and need to go to the hospital. I detoured. Work wasn’t too far out of the way, so I postponed telling Ryan. Maybe buying some time will help me think of the right words. I hate to have him still wonder and worry, but I need some more time.
I walk in to work. I haven’t showered. I’m not wearing my contacts and I can now see all the smudges and dust on the lenses of my glasses with the light of the dispatch center. My hair is a mess. I’m in pajamas. But I’ve got a grin on my face the size of Texas. I walk in and everyone starts applauding and laughing. Such support. I start flashing the ultrasound printout. I use my finger to circle the black dot on the left, “That’s a baby.” Then I circle the black dot on the right and say, “And that’s a baby!” The inner brain light bulb comes on – that is how I will tell my husband. After getting some teasing and some congratulations, I feel much better about the impending doom of twins, and the impending doom of telling Ryan.
I get to his work and park. Deep breath! I walk in the store and don’t immediately see him. I ask at the front desk. They page him overhead. I wait near the front desk. Ryan quickly walks up to me with a concerned look. I say, “Everything is fine.” He relaxes. I brace myself for the big moment. I had rehearsed this. I can’t say the word baby, babies, twins, or anything. I have to be exact. “I have an ultrasound picture. Do you want to see it?” His eyes lit up. “Yes!” I hand it to him and give him a few minutes to look at two black dots that don’t mean much to him just yet. “That’s a baby.” Pause. “And that’s a baby…” “WE’RE GONNA HAVE TWINS?” I have never seen a smile so big. He hugs me, kisses me, grabs my hand and starts running around the store dragging me along and yelling. “We’re gonna have twins. That’s a baby and that’s a baby. We’re gonna have twins!” Employees and customers alike are smiling and congratulating as fast as we can take it.
I head home to relax. More things were changing than I even could fathom. I was tired. I was dog tired. I took a nap.
Don’t Leak the News!
A few days before the party at my mom’s house, we went to visit with my mom. Since she’s a NICU nurse and I’ve worked in the ER and at 911 so we chat about medical stuff. I asked questions about babies and NICU and viability in weeks of pregnancy and Rh factor. I thought Ryan was going to die. He was still pretty new to the family so he didn’t know that these were normal conversations for my mom and me.
We ended our visit and got in the car and he mentioned how nervous he was that I would let it slip. I laughed. Nothing could keep me from the glee and tears that would come on December 21.
I decided that since my dad was the last to know everything, he’d be the first to know this. I would be honored if I were told something like this before everyone else. It was the least I could do. The day before the big party, I called him up while I was making dinner.
“So, dad, do you want your Christmas present now, or do you want it later?” He was planning a visit for New Year’s, but I was hoping he’d want to know now. “Um…Are you pregnant?”
This was not the first time my dad asked me this question. Being a Christian girl that eloped, it was considered that I might be trying to cover up an accidental pregnancy. When I called Dad on the phone to give the news that he now had a son-in-law, I was received as follows:
“Dad, you know Ryan and I have been dating for a while and on Friday he came down to visit me. He proposed and I said yes.”
“Oh! Congratulations.” He actually sounded fairly happy for never having met Ryan.
“…And then on Saturday, we drove to Las Vegas and we got married.”
Silence. Complete silence for maybe the longest thirty seconds of my life. Then, “Hmm.” Pause. “Hmmm…” Pause. “Are you pregnant?!”
“No, Dad!”
“Oh. Okay then. Congratulations. Now you have to tell Grandma.” He handed the phone to my grandmother who with the last question had become quite suspicious. You can imagine the rest.
Back to the original story. “So, dad, do you want your Christmas present now, or do you want it later?”
“Um…Are you pregnant?”
“Yep. I am.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks. Now do you want your other present now, or later?”
He was stumped! “Um. Now, I guess.”
“It’s twins.”
Twenty minutes of hysterical laughter ensued. Then, “Does your mom know yet?”
“Nope. I wanted to tell you first.”
It wasn’t as sentimental to him to be told something first as I expected, but I still felt better about it. He asked permission to leak the news to my grandmother and aunt. Not a problem as long as no one tells the rest of the family. Not a worry since Dad’s side didn’t speak to Mom’s side, and vice versa.
Less than 24 hours until my family would be ‘in the know.’ I couldn’t wait.
The Day Arrives
It was finally the day of the Christmas party. I framed a 5 by 7 photo of the oops picture and wrapped it. I also had a 5 by 7 of the two black dots ultrasound framed and wrapped. The plan was to give them both to my mom as a gift and have the whole family watching.
It had to be strategic. One sister knew already. I had to tell her how we were breaking the news so she wouldn’t spoil it with the mention of twins. The plan was to have the oops picture opened, happy and disbelief and excitement and congratulations and then break the big news. One more picture turned out and we wanted to show you.
The family congregated: my grandmother, my mother, her twin sister my aunt, both of my sisters, a sister’s boyfriend, Ryan and me. I told my mom it was nothing big, just the photo shoot pictures that had turned out well. I’m surprised that everyone was so interested. Maybe it was because Ryan was video recording the goings-on. Maybe that drew everyone’s attention. None the less, it was showtime.
Mom unwrapped the present. Looked at it and said, “Is this a joke?” I had tested negative at the doctors office after all. We went to lunch that day and I told her how I was relieved, yet disappointed. She thought maybe I lied and really was pregnant. At that time, I thought I wasn’t.
Hugs and laughter and tears all around. The questions start: How far along? When are you due? How are you feeling? Which OBGYN? Was it planned? The whole gamut of questions. I was trying to not let the word “babies” come out.
Things calm down and everyone is satisfied that the excitement is over. Boy, were they wrong. I yelled aloud that I had one more picture that turned out well and it’s no big deal but that I want everyone to see. Again, I have everyone’s attention. Mom excitedly opens the second ‘no big deal’ framed picture.
The ultrasound picture is revealed. A gasp. “How far along are you?” Only seven weeks. She has the same look on her face that Ryan had when he first saw the ultrasound. I thought, being a NICU nurse, she’d know. I use the finger circling each black dot method and say, “That’s a baby. And that’s a baby.”
She grabs her chest and almost falls backwards into the living room. She starts sobbing and kissing the glass of the frame. “I love them already. They are so beautiful!” It was exactly the reaction I expected, but better. I knew the twins thing would make its mark for her. She loves being a twin. That her very first grandchild would be grandchildren was quite special also. But I think what made it special for me, was knowing that I could now share something with my mother that she had wondered about her whole life: the early years of what raising twins is like.
She hugged me and we both cried and sobbed. I took the frame from her hands and turned it out to face the group. I don’t know who grabbed it first, but everyone had a look. I got more hugs, more tears, more laughter, more congratulations.
It was a great day.
Telling the In Laws
We drove the 300+ miles to the mountains and a very snowy, cold climate to visit my in-laws. I was car sick. Can you take motion sickness pills when pregnant? I called my mom and she checked the internet. No significant studies, but no birth defects reported is only semi comforting when you’re new at being pregnant and promise to never dye your hair or drink caffeine or eat anything but veggies during the next long months. I took a half a pill and a nap. Ryan drove the whole way. I won’t mention the numerous potty stops.
Ryan was counting on his immediate family to meet at my in-laws house. We called when we knew the approximate time we would arrive. Their plans had changed. The entire extended family was meeting at Grandma’s for the annual cookie making and baking traditions that I had yet to be introduced to. We decided as to not call attention in having a fit and making everyone change their plans, we’d go with the flow and the announcement would happen later that night.
Ryan had decided, much to my delight, that telling my family my way went well. He decided we could do it the same way for his family.
It was pleasant and nerve-wracking to visit with his family and not mention pregnancy things and babies and twins. But the immediate family all made it back to my in-laws’ home. As I mentioned before, it was my mother in law’s birthday. We had the 5 by 7 pictures with us, but hadn’t wrapped them yet. We stopped at Walmart on the way there and grabbed some tissue paper and gift bags. My husband also stopped to get the other gift for his mom: their “My grandkids are cuter than yours!” license plate frame. My in-laws already had a grandson. The presents would be numbered one, two, and three. Open the “oops picture” first. The license plate frame with the plural of grandkids confirming the “oops picture” means we are indeed pregnant is the second present. The third present is the ultrasound printout. I let Ryan run the show.
We all sat down in the living room. Everyone knew something was up because Ryan’s sister wasn’t going to come for just ‘Mom opening presents.’ Ryan made it known that she must be present. So, they suspected something was going on.
Everyone gathered on the couches in the living room: parents-in-law, sister-in-law and her soon to be fiancé, and my 13 year old brother-in-law. Even the annoying rat-dog was present and attentive. Ryan turned on the makeshift video camera: his digital camera had a video setting. It turned out to have poor resolution, but we still enjoy watching these moments on grainy playback.
My mother in law was handed her three gifts and instructed which to open first. She was happy, yet hesitant. Ryan’s fit about his sister being present had put everyone on edge. She opened the “oops picture” and stared for a while. No one else could see the picture. “You’re kidding, right? You’re kidding.” No one knew what she was talking about as she set the framed picture to her side. I could feel my father in law tense up. She continued to present number two. She read the license plate frame and said, “You’re KIDDING? ALREADY?” She was giggling. She asked me when I was due. “August.” I could feel my father in law counting on his fingers to make sure that the due date was at least nine months from when we were married – it was.
So, everyone continued to sit in silence. The ‘When are you due’ question had not triggered any verbal reactions, nor any physical reactions. I expected some trading glances, or maybe leaning forward in anticipation. Maybe these people were slow on the uptake. Maybe they didn’t get it yet.
She opened up the whammy, hum-dinger of gifts. “Oh, an ultrasound picture!” Ryan stepped forward while still filming. He circled one black dot with his finger, “That’s a baby.” He circled the other black dot with his finger, “And that’s a baby.” “You’re really gonna have twins?!?” She was hysterically happy, squealing like a child who got exactly what she wanted on Christmas. She jumped up and down holding the framed ultrasound picture of her grandbabies. The dog. That annoying little dog started barking like a stranger was breaking into the house to steal her Beggin Strips. Everyone finally started to react. They reached out and wanted to see the ultrasound. My mother in law was jumping around the room and hugging everyone. My father in law sat stoic on the couch, no doubt the adding machine of his brain clicking away, tallying up expenses.
Ryan was excited. My mother in law couldn’t have been more excited. My sister in law gave me a lukewarm hug. I wanted to muzzle the dog. Now, to tell the rest of his family.
No Morning Sickness
I had yet to enjoy any pregnancy related sickness in my few short weeks of the condition. I had some light spotting and bleeding, and some sensitivity to smells. I was also fairly tired and went to bed early most nights. But I didn’t have the run to the toilet pukes so well documented in the movies and pregnancy books. If this was my ‘morning sickness’ I could handle it with flying colors. When family and friends found out about my joyous circumstance, they inevitably asked if I had been sick. I had been able to report that I was handling pregnancy quite well thus far.
The morning after we told my in-laws, I woke up and wanted to die. My head hurt, I was dizzy, I was nauseated, and I felt swollen and exhausted. The list of symptoms went on and on. I didn’t even want to get up. Of course, I dragged myself to the bathroom because my bladder was about to explode, but I sulked back to the bedroom and made Ryan bring me water and soda crackers. This was miserable. I had to be in top form for that evening because we were to tell the rest of Ryan’s extended family at the big get together. I couldn’t let on that I wasn’t feeling well.
A long morning nap and passing up the opportunity to go shopping with my mother-in-law seemed to surprise everyone, since my report just the day before was ‘no symptoms.’
Poor Ryan was worried about me and about the coming announcement. I assured him I’d be okay. He attended to my every need, bringing me string cheese sticks, crackers, water, milk, juice, Tylenol, and anything else that might tickle my pajama wearing fancy.
Later in the afternoon, I took a shower, which exhausted me further. I rested and then got up to dress, do my hair and make up. Another sitting session on the couch to catch my breath and wait out the dizziness and I was ready to go. Pregnancy sucks.
The Big Christmas Eve Get Together
The tradition on Christmas Eve at the Sharich house was that the entire clan got together in the basement of the Grandparents’ house for a spaghetti and meatballs dinner (Grandma’s specialty) and gift exchange. I had the famed spaghetti and meatballs before and they were delicious. We had actually asked for some to take home. But tonight, this meal did not sound appetizing. Maybe they’d have some plain dinner rolls.
It was quite a dinner spread with veggie trays, cocktail weenies and sauce, soda pop of every variety, cheese and crackers and the like. I tried not to call attention to myself. I took a bottled water, four olives, a few carrot sticks and some crackers. I got strange looks from Grandma and the Aunts. I told everyone that this was just my appetizer plate and that I’d be back for more. Little white lie.
There were 25-30 adults in the room and several young children. Grandpa seemed to avoid the small children while still watching their every move: every bang of a toy on his coffee table, every grubby little hand dipping into the bowls of mixed nuts and hard candy. He seemed none too pleased with the pitter patter of little feet. Noted. Yet, Grandma lovingly patted heads and talked to the little ones in a sweet voice. I minded my Ps and Qs not knowing much about this family and their dynamics.
After a few hours of eating, chatting and a gift exchange game that went on forever, it was time for the ‘other’ last present. Ryan again turned the camera to the video setting.
“Grandma, we have one last present for you. Open this one first.” There were stirs and chatter and whispers. These people seemed to get it. Grandma had that “I’m on to you” look in her eyes. She sat down graciously and opened the first gift. The “oops picture” strikes again. A newly married cousin of Ryan’s was sitting next to Grandma and the couple started to whisper to each other. Grandma wanted verbal confirmation. “What does that mean?”
Ryan decided to let the next picture do the talking. He handed the framed and wrapped ultrasound picture to Grandma. She was surprised that there was more. “Now open this one.” As Grandma unwrapped the second gift, she saw it was an ultrasound and that seemed to be all the confirmation she needed. She asked, “When?” Ryan replied, “August.” The whole room started to mumble and whisper. I couldn’t help but smile.
Grandpa sat next to her not saying much. He’d been a mechanic for 40 years, owned his own gas station, and made his own way. He wasn’t much for celebrating, except for maybe a good golf game on television or owning a winning hot rod in a car show. Grandma was happy and stared at the two black dots unknowingly. Her mechanic husband piped up, “Well, that’s twins!” I was shocked. How the hell did he know that? A cousin exclaimed, “Listen to Dr. Sharich over there!” The whole group laughed. Grandma was going to be a Great-Grandma, and not only one, but two babies were on their way. Most of the women, including myself, were wiping away tears.
The rest of the evening was full of laughter and fun. I was exhausted. I fell asleep on the car ride home.
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