There are some moments in this story we feel deserve an entire
post. The ultrasound-revelation that we're having triplets is one such moment.
[Robin] "That morning I started
getting really nervous. When you’ve tried that long for a baby and had so many
setbacks, you can never really shake the feeling that someone will take it all
away from you at any minute. I think we were both equally anxious and excited
when we got to the ultrasound room at PREG.
Thankfully, the sweet new
nurse kindly explained to
me they would do a regular ultrasound first, but would probably not see
anything until we did one vaginally. She said all this so I wouldn’t worry,
which was greatly appreciated.
However, it wasn’t necessary
because the moment our doctor placed the wand on my belly we saw three,
separate dark circles. My first thought was I can’t believe my ovaries are that
large. My next thought, which I said aloud, was, “Is… Is that what I think it
is?” The doc said, rather matter-of-factly, it looked like three individual
sacs, with three individual heartbeats, and congratulations we were having
triplets.
At this point, we (me, the
doc, and the nurse), all slowly turned to look back at Jay who was staring at
the screen with a positively unreadable face. He later confessed that he almost passed out,
and I probably would have too if I wasn't lying down. At this point, I started
nervous laughing so hard that he couldn’t continue take pictures. The doctor
told us that each baby was measuring well and each had a strong heartbeat.
Great news!
The rest of the ultrasound
seemed to take forever because the doctor kept saying this wasn’t our plan for
you, and that he was sorry. I am sorry about putting this much pressure on your
body. Eventually the doc and the nurse left the room, and Jay and I spent a few
minutes laughing, crying, and holding each other.
After that sweet moment, I
immediately reverted back to worrying, especially after the doc had profusely
apologized. So of course I went home that day and read horrible things. If you
google triplet pregnancy (don't google triplet pregnancy) the first ten hits
are all about risk factors, birth defects, and the like. For example, there is
up to a 40% chance of vanishing twin syndrome where one or more babies will
miscarry while the others continue. The next couple of weeks I kept thinking we
would go in for an ultrasound and there would only be one baby or two. I found
out later that once you have established a strong heart beat this chance lowers
significantly, but that is what I get for reading things on the internet. I
guess that's all a part of being a mother. I'll never stop worrying."
"Today, a medical
doctor, via a magical wand on my wife's tummy, showed us not one, not two, but
three (huge) tiny dark circles. In a moment that felt longer than all the other
moments combined, and in a domino like fashion, the nurse, the doctor, and the
wife, all slow turned, mouths agape, and stared at me. The only way I can
explain that feeling was how I imagined Bill Cosby's character in Ghost Dad
felt. Was I really there? Did that just happen? Can everyone see me? Pudding
pops?
Being someone who is deeply
grounded in pop culture, I also thought that the screen, with the
aforementioned 3 dark circles, looked like the mask from Scream, as well as the radar screen from Independence Day. Someone tell Will Smith to give me one of those
cigars. The proverbial fat lady had sung.
Side note: I just realized
the aliens in InDay that attacked "earf" were probably just a small
percentage of an ancient and massive alien race, and once they heard what
happened will come back and destroy us all, especially now that Harry Connick
Jr. was dead. End of ADD road trip.
The doctor then played for us
the three (three!) greatest sounds I've ever heard – three (THREE!) perfect
sounding tiny heartbeats. I immediately wondered how in the world I was able to
hear them over my own. But heard them I did, loud and clear. And it was
beautiful.
With the screen zoomed in on Goldblum's
laptop, the doc labeled these three (3!) sacs A, B, and C, which I can only
assume is some cryptic doctor code for 1, 2, and 3 (¡tres!). Then, finally, the
medical team left us alone, soon followed by a flood of happy tears and a
loving embrace. I have a pretty good memory, so I can say this with confidence
– no other moment up to that point can compare to that one. It wasn't even
close."
At the first ultrasound they labeled
them Baby A, B, C, (in the order they would be born) and Jay swears that Baby B
is a little girl.
Our second ultrasound (at 7 weeks) was
at our OB’s office. Since we knew we needed fertility treatments when we moved
to Greenville, we went straight to a specialist and I never found a regular
OBGYN. PREG gave us a great referral to Piedmont OBGYN. They have doctors there
specializing in multiples and high risk pregnancy and they are located at the
hospital with the highest level NICU in the city, which is very important as
90% of multiples spend at least some time in the NICU. They told us that we
would have an ultrasound at all visits since it is really the only way to check
the babies’ heartbeat because a Doppler will detect a heartbeat, but there is
no way of knowing who it belongs to. We loved Dr. Moore and all of the nurses
there. Dr. Moore seemed serendipitous because the doctor who delivered my and
was my first GYN was also name Dr. Moore and because we are clearly having MORE
babies. This time Baby A’s heartbeat was 164, Baby B’s was 146, and Baby C’s
was 141. We had joked after the transfer that if we had a little runt we would
know it was that third embryo that wasn’t quite as developed, but there are all
measuring the same size and all have relatively similar heartbeats. The
technician said if she had to guess she would say two boys (B and C) and a
girl. Jay, of course, rejected that because that meant that baby B wasn’t a girl.
Baby A - Heartbeat 164
Baby A
Baby B - Heartbeat 146
Baby B
Baby C - Heartbeat 141
Baby C
The next week (at 8 weeks) we had another
ultrasound at PREG. I’ll tell you all about it in the graduating from PREG
post.
