On Wednesday of last week, I dropped Dad off to work and took the children to the OB for a baby check-up. I think I may have caught a nasty something up there because the days afterward, I was sneezing forever into countless tissues. On Saturday, I came down with a mild fever and slept all day. Taylor must have caught it from me, and she slept all day on Sunday. And Ty must have caught it, too, as he started feeling warm on Sunday evening. This morning: Taylor is doing just fine; I have a headache from not positioning myself correctly to sleep; and Ty is still feeling yucky with cough.
I’ve been pumping them with Vitamin C and fruit juice. Dad’s been giving them honey to soothe their throats – and because it has antibacterial properties. We also have a tincture of infection fighter that I’ve been sneaking into their juice. Kyle claims to be sick, too, so we give him honey because it tastes good.
Play Dough
A couple of weeks ago, I made some play dough the children from the scratch ingredients in the kitchen. We all sat down at The Greenleaf School and practiced making sculptures. The younger two were great at making pancakes. I tried making a flower pot, but after Taylor’s elbow smashed my creation, I pursued making people.
Ty made a detailed scene of three people on a couch and a coffee table with three cups of coffee. I don’t know why he chose three coffee-lovers, but they were watching the guitarist and the pianist that I had made. Later, Ty brought out one of his toy dinosaurs and attempted to copy it. He was fairly successful. With a bit more practice, he could be a great play dough sculptor.
Baby News
And last but certainly not least… While at the OB’s on Wednesday, the doctor was checking the baby’s heartbeat. She checked it again. She made a quizzical face. She checked it again.
“Yes?” I asked.
“I don’t want to give you any scares that you don’t need,” she replied.
Oh, right. Thanks for scaring me. Now what? I thought.
“Have you noticed that you’re bigger with this one?” she asked.
“Yes, but I figure that I wasn’t in the greatest shape before getting pregnant, and this is my fourth, so it’s probably just all gonna hang out.”
“Go down to sonogram. Have them look at you.”
So I went, with three children under six in tow, to get a sonogram down the hall. Thoughts were racing through my mind, What was wrong with the heartbeat? Was it not strong enough? It sounded fine to me! Maybe I’m further along than I thought.
I laid down, and the technician put her transmitter/receiver thing on my belly. I was watching a television monitor on the wall that was showing me what she saw on her computer monitor. The children were perfectly still and quiet. On the monitor, I saw a glimpse of two circles and lots of gray. I thought nothing of it; I don’t know how to read a sonogram. The tech took the transmitter/receiver off of my belly quickly and gasped, stared at me with wide eyes.
“Are all these yours?” she asked, as if I had seventeen children tagging along.
“Yea…” And I didn’t have to think any harder. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “If we’re going to have twins, we’re definitely going to need a bigger car. And some help. Should I tell my husband?”
“Of course! Just don’t tell him when he’s standing up. And DON’T tell him when he’s driving! Let’s see… separate sacs, so they’re fraternal. Let’s see if we can get a male/female check….”
“La la la la la,” I sang as I covered my ears.
“Okay, you don’t want to know.”
So, Baby A is the farthest one down, on my lower right side. And Baby B is up above my belly button on the left side.
*********
We picked Dad up from work and talked to some coworkers. I didn’t tell him then. I didn’t tell him while he drove us home – afraid we’d never make it! He asked to see the pictures of the sonogram, but didn’t seem to notice the two heads. We had only half and hour between coming home and my leaving to go to work, so I didn’t tell him then. That evening, after work, we had plans to watch our weekly television show together, so I couldn’t tell him then. I spent all night wide awake, wondering about how and when to tell him. The next morning, while we both were still in bed, waking up, I figure I could give him the news… because I was given the news while I was laying down, and *I* didn’t hit the floor.
At first, he was in denial. (”The tech told you this?”) Then he mentioned that this would complicate the delivery. Of course, but I had already asked the doctor if I could deliver naturally, and she said that it all depends on the position of the babies. I’m not sure where I went that morning, but when I came back, Dad had done loads of nutritional research for mothers who are expecting multiples. He had made a green and yellow salad for me, told me which foods I needed to eat, which vitamins were the most important, and to stay hydrated. I love that man.
And we’re definitely going to need a bigger car.
