Here’s a slideshow of the boys first week.
They also went to the doctor for the first time. Both have a bit of jaundice and will need to keep sun bathing with mama in the mornings. Logan’s heart murmur is already gone and they are still the same weights and heights. We go on Thursday to check their weights and jaunice.
I had my 36 week OB appointment and got news from the doc that since baby Gavin was breech that we need to schedule my C-section. He told me it was highly unlikely for the baby to turn at this point, but if he did, I could have a vaginal birth. I was completely dreading the idea of a C-section, but knew that I didn’t have a choice and was putting my big girl pants on for my babies. So I went online and researched every which way to turn a breech baby: I did handstands in the pool, stood on my head for 10 minutes 3x a day, stuck a flashlight to the belly, put ice on the top of my upper right rib, took several long walks to get them moving, and even “meditated” them down. I asked everyone I knew and even people I didn’t know to pray for the big flip…
On Monday night we went to the hospital for our last Non-Stress Test. (A test where they monitor the babies’ heart rates.) I told the nurse, before I even got in the room, that I was so excited to find out what position baby Gavin was. I had heard hiccups in my lower hip area the night before and had a sneaking suspicion that he was upside down. She turned and said, “Not to be a kill joy, but twins do not flip around in the 37th week.” She gooed me up and there he was-thump thump thump-down exactly where I predicted. I did it-God did it-We did it! I was so happy.
I knew that if my little tyke could turn in less than a week, he could do it again, so I more or less demanded that they admit me and induce. She called my doctor to see what he thought and his response was, “Well I guess there’s no convincing her now.”
I was admitted and so stoked to get the process going, but learned that I wouldn’t be able to be induced that night because my doctor wanted to be around when they give the Pitocin. So now I had to wait a whole other day to get the process started. I sent Tim home to get all the stuff ready for our hospital stay. The nurse put me on fluids and was also put on continuous heart monitoring of the babies. They put these little round heart monitors on your belly around where the babies’ hearts are, and, my God, was that horrendous! I basically had to stay completely still the entire night to keep the monitors on the babies hearts. We had an awful nurse and, I’m sorry, I was measuring 12 months pregnant and had to move occasionally.
The next day we woke up and were told we had to get an official ultrasound done to verify that Gavin had turned. It felt like it took years, but after only a few more hours of waiting, we got the go ahead for induction time.
Everything was all setup at about 2pm. Because the Pitocin is famous for decreasing the babies’ heart rates, I was put back on the God forsaken heart monitors. I was told it was crucial that I try and stay as still as possible. I couldn’t sit up, adjust my position, or scratch my nose or else I would have a team of nurses trying to locate heart rates for, no exaggeration, at least an hour! That part was absolute hell!
My mom, Tim’s sister, and of course, Tim were all there as my cheerleaders. I felt pumped-ready to do this thing! The contractions came and went for a few hours and I kept comparing my contractions to my appendectomy. I remember specifically saying, “Oh I can totally handle this type of pain….” And I swear, as soon as that was off the lips, the real labor came with a vengeance. I’m not sure about the exact time, but the nurse checked me around then-4 cm! I had only been doing this for a small bit of time and 4cm was almost half way. I so had this.
The labor kept progressing and It went quickly from a 6 on my pain scale to “what the hell do numbers have to do with this?!? This junk hurts!” Tim’s sister was my very impromptu labor coach. She has never been interested in having her own children and all together isn’t very “kidsy,” but here she was breathing with me taking the contractions on as if they were her own. My mom was right beside me, telling me over and over that she wishes she could take the pain away. And poor, poor Tim. He just couldn’t help but cry for me. I never took Lamaze class because the hospital charged $100.00 for it, and I remember thinking how stupid I was to not shell over 100.00 for the most important breathing lessons of my life.
Somewhere in between my doctor came in and broke my water bag. Gag me! That was gross. He checked me- 4cm, but he did say that breaking the bag would most definitely get things rolling. Almost immediately after the bag was broken, the contractions came on hard and much, much longer. I’m pretty sure I was two minutes apart and at least a minute long. I started transitioning from the deep breaths to the he-he-hoo, hee-he-hoo. I wasn’t a noisy laborer, but when it came to the hoo’s I couldn’t help myself but to let out a large “hoooooo” noise. The entire room was breathing with me at this point and I’m almost positive they were all about to pass out from it as well.
I think somewhere around 1 am, I got checked again…freakin’ frackin’ 4 cm! I had to get up to go to the bathroom just to clear my head and while doing so, I overheard my mom talking to the nurse about my progression or lack thereof. She said that I was on the clock and a cesarean was looking like the next step. I came back, had the worst contraction, and finally said ‘I give’ and asked for the epidural. Tim immediately did what I coached him to do and tried to get me to change my mind, but soon realized that I wasn’t just panicking.
The anesthesiologist came in swabbed my back and started pressing on my back to feel where the spine was and the next thing I knew, the catheter was in place. I have heard one horror story after another about epidurals and how painful they were, but for me I seriously didn’t even feel a single prick. It took about 10 minutes and then—sweet, sweet relief.
I watched the contraction monitor in awe that all those spikes were happening and I was completely unaware. The nurse came in and checked me after about 10 minutes. She looked up at me completely bewildered and called another nurse in the room to check. The second nurse confirmed her suspicions and gave me the news-9 cm!! Typically epidurals slow down labor, but I really think in my case my body just wasn’t allowing itself to relax and as soon as that happened, I hit 9 cm, baby!
By 1:30ish, it was push time and I gave it my all, but the nurse said without saying it that I was a crappy pusher J I held off for a while more; something they call “laboring down.” And then somewhere around 3am I started to really progress. One of the nurses told me to get mad at the contraction and those were the words I needed to hear. I remember staring at the corner of the light bulb, knowing that I looked ridiculous making the angry face I had on, but at that point I couldn’t hear or see anything else besides the corner of that bulb and boom-before I knew it the baby was crowning.
Because I was having twins, I had to deliver the babies in the OR. Baby Gavin still had high chances of flipping around after Logan made his exit and that would mean C-section. The nurses covered me up with sheets and off we went. The weirdest thing happened on our way to the OR. We passed the nurses’ station and one of my nurses shouted out, “we’re about to have twins here tonight.” And no joke-they stopped me and the nurses asked if I knew if they were identical or fraternal. I politely said identical but my head was saying, “Are you kidding me with this? I have a head in between my legs and you’re stopping me now!?
When we got in the OR, I was amazed at how much it reminded me of what I picture the inside of a UFO to look like. It was super bright plus it had these two ginormous spot lights and I kept looking around for the probe. The nurses were so nice and kept me distracted by telling me what every little gadget and gismo did in there while we waited for my doctor. It only took him about 10 minutes to appear, but it felt like an eternity.
The doc came in, asked the nurses if it was time to push, and immediately we started. I think he was annoyed that I insisted on a vaginal birth, because the entire time he never said even one word to Tim and I. We pushed six times and at 4:22am we had our son, Logan Elliot Nordin. He came out nice and pink and crying like no other. The nurses then did an ultrasound to see where Gavin was positioned and lo and behold he was still head down. Pushing him was a piece of cake. Gavin James arrived at 4:27am and again was pink and crying! The doc delivered the placenta, stitched me up a bit and finally gave us a lackluster “Congratulations.”
We had done it-we were parents and nothing in the whole world could feel better than that moment! We made it back to the recovery room and the photo op began. Logan was still being checked out, so I began my first nurse with Gavin. He was a pro! As soon as Logan got the clear, he also ate his little heart out.
After a few hours in the recovery area, we were brought up to the mother/baby wing. One of the biggest pieces of advice I got pre-motherhood was to sleep when they slept and that’s exactly what I did. We spent the next 3 days in the hospital. There was no NICU time and relatively no problems. Logan has a touch of jaundice and also has a heart murmur that apparently goes away with most children. Their weights are on the smaller side, but with all the milk I’ve been giving, I expect them to chunk up nice and fast.
We’ve been home for two days now. Sleep is a miracle, and I can’t get through a diaper change without getting pee’d on, but I can’t say enough how absolutely fortwinate I am to have such beautiful, beautiful babies. Our lives are never going to be the same again and that couldn’t be more thrilling.
On Tuesday, the boys go in for their first pediatrician appointment and that will also be circumcision day. Ouch. I hope to keep everyone updated with lots of baby pics and stories along the way. For now, here are some more pictures from our time in the hospital.
We got a late surprise tonight…Stephanie stepped into the other room and while she was out, her cousin Megan made an unannounced visit all the way from Tampa. Stephanie already knew cousin Brittany might drop by again tonight, but she was so surprised when she came back into the room and Megan was there. The girls just ate our boys up: taking pictures and cuddling them all night. We had a great night and Megan promised to come back again tomorrow to continue the love fest.
Surprise!
Immediately the debate began...which one is cuter?
Even though Brittany was here yesterday, she still demanded face time...and who could blame her?
Megan and Logan
Megan and Gavin
I think he likes you...
Gotta get ready for the picture
Picture Perfect! Sisters with Brothers
Of course the girls wanted their own pictures (See their facebooks for additional angles)
We had a GREAT Night!
Today has been a truly great day! After a very long and tiresome night, Stephanie and I were able to get a good two hour nap this morning! “Hallelujah!” The boys are doing great. They passed their hearing tests, got their birth certificates, and have just been SO peaceful all day. FYI: Logan and Gavin’s birth announcements will be in the Naples Daily News on Sunday November 1st. We had a couple more visitors: Grandma Henderson came by and let me go home for about three hours to take a shower and get the car seats from the house. “THANK YOU SO MUCH, MOM! I REALLY REALLY APPRECIATED IT.” Evan and Sarah Burd, our friends that are pregnant with triplets, stopped by and got a sneak peak at the glorious miracles in their future. Jim and Sarah Klages and Aunt Babbette made appearances too. We will hopefully all be discharged tomorrow sometime and get to start our brand new lives with these two glorious gifts of God.
Day 2 Very Peaceful
Evan and Sara Burd stop by to see the boys
Hey Everybody,
This is Tim (daddy) filling in for my beautiful and wonderfully courageous wife: NEWS FLASH! THE TWINS HAVE ARRIVED!!! On Wednesday October 21,2009 at 4:22 AM, Logan Elliot was born (6lbs 1oz, 19 in long) followed by his brother Gavin James at 4:27 AM (5lbs 1oz, 18 in long). I will leave the miraculous birth story to Stephanie, but I know you all want to see some pictures. So here you go.
Logan and Gavin...fresh into to the world
Logan Elliot
Gavin James
Daddy and Gavin
One AMAZING Momma!
Beautiful Baby Eyes
Hey Gavin, Did you meet this Daddy guy? He looks strong!
Hey Logan! I caught Aunt Jen...she promised presents in return of her finger!
Grandma Henderson saying hello
Grandpa Henderson checking these miracles out
Grandma Henderson already spoiling...
Aunt Jen loves you so much
First Bath
Memories of the womb
Little Angels
Look at that “Nordin Nose!”
“I’m ready for my close-up”
I went in last night for a non-stress test only to find out that Gavin did turn head down!!! Another Nordin family miracle. They decided to keep me monitored overnight and any moment now they are going to be wheeling to get one final ultrasound before they begin Pitocin. As soon as I have news, I’ll have Tim post for me. Meanwhile, enjoy these pics for your viewing pleasure 
Now to give the full skinny on the past 37 weeks.
After confirming that we were indeed actually pregnant, Tim and I faced some “life experience credits” that we needed to deal with in order to move forward. First of all, I had lost my job. I was working from home and the way my company could make that possible for bookkeeping was to keep me as an independent contractor. It was great at the time. I was able to write off several things and paid less in taxes, but because of this, I was left with no severance and no unemployment benefits when I was laid off. Tim was working at Target as a “whatever” job to help with extra money while he searched for a full time ministry job, but as the economic conditions worsened, so did the need for a full-time spunky young modern worship leader. Target held our health benefits which meant for Tim that his “whatever” job was now our bread and butter. We had about two weeks left of our 3 bedroom 2 bath single family home on the golf course, and then (thank GOD for them) we moved into the upstairs bedroom of my parents house. Our pride was on the floor, but we had a new life to work hard for. We were having a baby and that meant we had a future to work towards.
The next few weeks were a blur of nausea and sleepy days. I remember feeling thrilled to be puking, because in my mind it meant that the pregnancy was legit. I couldn’t wait to see my OB for our 10 week appointment. I knew what a big deal it was to establish a heartbeat, and of course that week we got to hear two heartbeats! The doctor told us that because we were having twins, the pregnancy was already put to the level of “high risk,” and that we needed to see some baby specialists to assess how “severe” (his words not mine) my situation was.
After that appointment, my emotions were tremendously mixed. I had a job interview the next week and now that I was high risk, would I be ok to work? Tim and I had just barely recovered from heartache of losing a baby, and now we had to see specialists to determine the severity of our situation?! My initial reaction was not of excitement. I was too wrapped up in the possible and in my head probable devastation that could lie ahead. Tim on the other hand, my ultimate optimist, knew that God was listening to our prayers and he couldn’t be more excited for our future babies.
We met with specialists a few days later. The first thing I noticed in the patient room was how dark it was. I always hate going into a doctor’s office knowing they’re going to probe and poke me and having to think about the lovely lighting features of fluorescent bulbs. This was the first doctor’s office I felt comfortable in. What I didn’t realize is that the reason they kept the lights low was because my babies were about to be launched on the big screen. The ultrasound machine they used was like nothing I had ever seen before. It was a beast-most certainly the Hummer of the ultrasound world. The tech gooed me up, stuck the magic baby picture stick on me and-boom-we got to see our little babies up there wiggling and kicking about. It was incredible-two babies! The ultrasound tech was a little dry but tried to explain everything she was looking for. The first thing she said was that the babies were in the same sac which meant that we were having identical twins. First thought: “Great now I’m going to have to tattoo the kids to be able to tell them apart.” She explained that fraternal twins will always have two sacs, but identical twins only have one to share. We also learned that fraternal twins result from two eggs being dropped at ovulation time and two sperms meeting with the eggs at conception. Identical twins however, result from one egg and one sperm randomly splitting into two about 4-5 days after conception. Mind blowing. She told us the that odds of having identical twins is about 3 in 1,000, whereas the birth rate for all twins is about 32.2 in 1,000. Wow this really is something special. The doc came and told us that because the twins share the same sac, they were put at a higher risk level and she wanted to see us again in about 4 weeks. She also addressed the work issue and flat out told me it was not a good idea to be getting a full time job at this point since about 50% of all twin pregnancies hit bedrest at some point. She encouraged me to find a temp agency and work here and there when I felt comfortable, but not to “count on it.”
The next few weeks, my mind was eased a bit. We had made it to the second trimester and finally felt right to tell all our extended friends and family our big news. This was cathartic for me. I felt like being able to speak freely about the pregnancy made it more real. Almost every single person that knew what had happened prior, recognized what a miracle it was for us to be having twins and that alone helped change my narrow view of the temporary into a vision of hope and future. I think it was about that time I really started to accept the pregnancy as real. And then…
We met with our specialists at 15 weeks. I of course had one thing on the brain-Gender! Gender! We got gooed up and the specialist explained that from now on she would be taking a biophysical profile-basically measuring the babies from head to toe to determine growth. Tim and I waited, not so patiently, provoking her to keep a lookout for pee pee parts. She quickly told us that the babies were too small to know what the gen-“Wait, wait…um yes we have a penis.” “Boooys?!” I exclaimed in a confused tone-I knew we were having girls, I just knew it! Tim looked over at me with eyes glazed over and let out a peaceful, “ah, boys.” We chatted each other up about names for the next several minutes while we waited for her to send the doctor in.
This time it was a different doctor. He was extremely nice and knew we had just got the gender news so he gave Tim a big pat and “Congratulations, son.” He went through the sizes of the babies and told us they were looking good. He told us what to expect from here on out with appointments and then the mood completely switched and he let out the horrifying news. I’m not sure the exact wording, but it all came out in doomsday for me. Basically the babies share the same blood supply/nutrients when they are sharing a sac and in about 10% of these types of pregnancies, one baby gets more blood supply/nutrients than the other (They call this twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome or TTTS). He explained that if untreated the baby with more will die because of oversupply and consequently the baby with less will also die because of lack of nutrients. He explained that the fluid levels weren’t low enough to warrant surgery (that in itself might also kill both babies), but that in most cases the fluid levels continue to drop and I would eventually have to drive over to Miami and meet with a fetal surgeon to try and correct the problem. Our big boy news was now completely trampled on by the “how could this freakin’ be?!” news. We now had to meet with the specialists every week to see if the situation worsened.
I called my mom and my closest friends and cried through the next few days. I was officially out of understanding how God could do this to us. We were flat on our backs, never so aware of his presence before, and now he would take away our hope again? I couldn’t go through another miscarriage. I wouldn’t.
Tim, on the other hand, had never been so sure that this was a time to ask everyone we knew to pray for our situation and he told every single person he knew that they needed to pray for his wife and babies like never before. I’ll never forget while lying in bed one night, he told me, “None of this is in our control-God never promised to give us children. All we know is he promised to love and protect us, so if we get kids out of this, we will give God our praise, and if we don’t, we will also give God our praise.” My spiderman obsessed, video gamer lovin’, 26-year-old husband spoke way beyond his years and maturity that night. I think I got through the next month fixating on that conversation alone.
We went back to the specialist the next week to discover that the fluid levels had maintained. The boys were growing and thriving in there, so that was great news to us. The doctor said we could see them every 10 days since the situation wasn’t worsening.
Meanwhile, we had come up with names that week. Gavin and Logan. These weren’t family names or even had great significant meaning, but once we saw each name, we both knew that we could see our little boys…our Gavin and Logan.
This was also blackout week-a weird weird week. Your whole body goes out of whack when you’re preggo and I was no exception to that statement. I was taking a shower one afternoon and woke up 20 minutes later with bruised knees and a headache. I completely blacked out. Weird. A little scary, but I didn’t hit the belly so I felt safe. Then, like two days later I was going downstairs to get some water and I woke up at the bottom of the stairs! I didn’t feel any sort of belly pain, but had a few mild cramps and went in to see my OB. He gooed me up and we saw the boys dancing around in there. Phew. I avoided the stairs as much as possible after that week… although it’s a little hard when you live upstairs.
Back to the specialist. She checked the measurements and then checked them again. The fluid levels had doubled. Doubled?! The doctor came in and told us that this does happen sometimes and to be happy, but also be aware that it can fluctuate and has the possibility to go back down. He told us we could now come every 14 days and sent us on our way. Tim and I knew that this again was special. We knew that someone was listening and we were well taken care of.
The next few weeks were all about getting to week 24. Time crept by, but we knew that at 24 weeks the babies had a chance of surviving. I tried to keep myself busy by doing little knitting projects and working part time doing some assistant work for my parents. I watched endless hours of old Gilmore Girl episodes to keep the time ticking and then finally-we made it! We hit 24 weeks and went to the specialist around that time only to discover that the boys fluid levels were practically equal at this point and they were both growing like weeds!
We still met with the specialists every two weeks and looked forward to see how many ounces and inches the boys grew those few weeks. The levels never dipped down low again!
But the next few weeks were party planning weeks. Tim’s sister is like a professional partier (for real, I think that’s her actual title) and she really came up with a cool “garden party” theme for our babies shower. She got super cute invitations that she spent hours piecing together and had the napkins match the invitations to match the plates that matched the bowls that matched the cake that matched the…you get it. We had a huge turnout! All the women that had helped raise me were there. All my friends from church came and my huge extended family came for the fun too. We ended up getting everything we needed for the babies too! We had zilch in the bank account and no foreseeable extra coming in, so it meant so much that we got just enough to provide.
Somewhere around 30 weeks, my parents helped us find our own place. Our upstairs bedroom was hardly holding us and the dog, so it was time to find something close enough that would give us all a little space. We found a place right down the road from my parents that a guy has it listed for sale, but was also willing to rent to us for cheap in the meantime. It’s a manufactured home and has bubble gum pink carpets and flowery wallpaper, but its our own place! We have a nursery dedicated completely for the boys and even a 3rd bedroom for guests. The neighborhood is great-lots of walkers and the ages vary all over the place. I never thought I’d be in a position like this, but I have never ever appreciated having a roof-any type of roof- and have such a deeper understanding on what I really need versus what I want. We again have been provided for.
The OB told us this week also that our babies would be happy healthy babies with a few weeks in the NICU. We also read on the internet that babies who share a sac typically come sooner because they simply run out of room. Tim and I both just expected it to be any day now…and any day turned into any week now, and now here I am at 37 weeks with at least six pounders full of life and movement. I am going to scheduled to have a c-section this Thursday unless baby Gavin decides to flip out of his breech position and then I will be induced. (you can pray for that J)
I know I am so fortunate in this life. I have friends and family who love and support me and soon I will be ever so forTWINate to have these boys.
Now for your viewing pleasure, here is a slide show of my growth (ahh! How will I ever return?) Oh and its in reverse order—I did say I was new at this remember? 
And a video of the twins when they were just 13 weeks.
Oh and by the way, I promise that after this I will have a few quick lines on what’s new with the boys, some pics and video and then bada-boom you can click on to your next favorite site.
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 27th 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.