Finding out we we’re pregnant was exhilarating. Tim and I told everyone we knew the second we saw PREGNANT flash across the fancy pee stick. The weekend we found out was Father’s Day, so it made for a nice segway to surprise friends and family. We had our first ultrasound at 7 weeks and saw a little fluttering heart beat. We spent the first trimester a bit worried about every little pang, but as soon as I was in my second trimester, we felt like we were in the clear. We had a name for both sexes, a crib, and several cute baby outfits that my husband couldn’t help but pick up after work.

I have an irrational fear of hospitals and believe that the “business” of having babies is absolutely absurd and downright criminal, so I decided to use a midwife. Our area only has one midwife so although I felt slightly uncomfortable when she had trouble finding the heart rate on the Doppler, or when she dismissed my concerns about movement, I went with it because my only other alternative was seeing a doctor. Her appointments were an hour long and she spent time with us answering our questions and trying to make us comfortable about what was ahead.

At 19 weeks, it was time for our second ultrasound-the greatest of all ultrasounds: gender time! We had to go to a lab to get the ultrasound since the midwife only had a limited sonogram machine. We arrived 20 minutes early hoping they wouldn’t be busy and luck was on our side. We got in right away and immediately after getting gooey-silence. My heart sank. I knew.  I looked at my husband immediately and by his completely blank stare, I realized he was still in the dark. The ultrasound tech couldn’t have been a day over 20 and I knew by the horror in her face that our baby was not alive. She had us go into another room where the on call doctor was waiting for us with glistened eyes. He was a big man that is probably related in some way to Santa Claus. Even though he gave us the worst news of our lives, I felt oddly comforted by him. He opened his arms and immediately hugged us and told us he was so sorry, but our son had died of unknown causes.  Our grief overcame us.

In the next few days, we learned that the baby and placenta were too big and that we would have to be admitted to the hospital and deliver him. That I believe was the worst of the whole situation. It had never entered my mind that I would have to give birth. We entered the maternity hospital and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to describe the thickness in the air that night.  It was like an 80’s movie dream sequence. After 15 hours of labor, I had a son: Micah. The doctor later told us that he had severe chromosomal abnormalities and it was a miracle that he lasted as long as he did in utero.  We stayed in the hospital  for one more day and then left empty handed.

The following 3 months were the darkest days I had ever seen. I somehow knew in my heart that God had not forgotten us or felt abandoned, but was still so overcome with grief that I cried and cried. And cried.  I learned to knit during those days and honestly believe my new hobby saved me from going overboard. After about 3 months, I started to heal. I got out of the house and found a workout buddy. I connected with friends to get me out of my funk.  And then about 3 more months later, I began the “Am I ready for this again?” phase.

Although I was still uncertain about the medical world, I decided against meeting with a midwife this time. I did feel ignored and if I were with a traditional doctor, I would have found out much sooner about Micah’s condition, so I opted to meet with a OB/GYN about possibly trying again. I met with him in January 2009 and told him that my husband and I are thinking about trying again. He warned me that it takes the average couple 6-9 months to conceive and not to be discouraged if it didn’t happen right away.  He listened to my concerns and I felt very comforted by his approach.

At the end of January, Tim lost his second job.  Tim and I looked at each other and both agreed, “What were we thinking?!! We’re way too paycheck to paycheck to think about having a baby! We should wait another six months or so.”  I met with my gynecologist and he wrote me a script for birth control. Phew. That was close….

My work situation was pretty awesome-I was able to work from home and work whatever hours I wanted. The last couple months were slowing down as the economy was also. I was working 50-60 hours and hardly making what I use to.  And then, on February 27^th my boss called at 9am on the dot to let me know they were cutting a significant portion of the company so that they could try to stay afloat and since I was working from home, I would be a part of that cut.  My husband was still at work and I didn’t want him to take off since now more than ever we would need him to make hours, so I started thinking about every possible solution and scenario…and then it hit me. My period?! It was due today…but we had used protection. We’d be ok. Well, except for Valentine ’s Day, but what are the chances of that….a quick trip to CVS helped me discover in about 3 seconds that I was

PREGNANT. Again with the fancy pee sticks.

Back to the gynecologist (this guy had seen me 3 times in a two week period. So embarrassing.  )

Before I even got to see him, the nurse took a pregnancy test for me. Negative. Another one. Negative.  A third.  Negative.  WHAT? How could this be? I rushed out of the room hardly able to breathe. I had already miscarried? In like 3 days? How could this be? My doctor described it as a chemical pregnancy, (basically a really early miscarriage) but he recommended that I go get some blood drawn just to make sure. It took two days to get the results back. A very long two days. There is a hormone called HCG that detects whether your pregnant or not. An average pregnancy test detects these levels at 50. My number came back 49. “Strange.” My doctor ordered another test. 72. “Let’s do one more test.” 422!-“You’re pregnant!”

We saw our little baby at 3 weeks- and again at 6 weeks-and then we hit 10 weeks.  A heartbeat. Something I never thought I’d see! “Ok doc. Seems like this is going to work out. Sure there’s only one in there?” Very manner-of- factly “Yes. Of course there’s only —wait hrmph. What’s tha-Yep you’re right there is another heartbeat.” Tim: “Ha ha. Funny doc.” “No joke.” Zooms out. “There are definitely TWO babies in there.”

I didn’t say a word-In fact, I am pretty sure I stopped breathing, but I do specifically remember Tim’s reaction.  He was half slouched in his chair and then  popped  up faster than Mighty Mouse and got about two inches from the computer screen, grabbed my hand and uttered, “Woah.”And repeated similar one word exclamations until we left.

The doctor sent us to the lobby to make our next appointment. The scheduler was in the middle of writing our next appointment when I finally blurted out in question form, “I’M HAVING TWO BABIES?! Two. Not one, but two.”

I am sitting at 36 weeks pregnant and am completely in the clear to have these identical boys (Gavin and Logan) any day now. I have decided that my journey is far too amazing to go undocumented…not to mention that I have been unemployed for 36 weeks and may be a tad stir crazy J.  Unless the boys decide to come out earlier, my OB has told me that Thursday, October 22, 2009 is going to be their birthday. I am so excited and grateful that I have been fortunate to have these precious babies and hope to share their life with all my friends and family.