It’s funny how we can remember specifics from our lives that hold meaning in some way, no matter how miniscule. Yet I find it difficult to remember what I wore yesterday or what I had for breakfast this morning. Our minds are programmed to only retain those memories that we hold dear to us, even when we don’t realize how much sentiment they will carry till much later in life. I remember my Dad giving me piggyback rides down the stairs every morning till I almost broke his back. I remember the first and last time I ever used the ‘F’ word to my Mother; I never ran so fast in my life. But those are really small things in comparison to hearing that the one baby incubating inside my belly was actually two babies…
The ultrasound technician and I chatted casually as she gooped up my belly with that cold, sticky gel that always gets on my pants. Ironically the conversation shifted to the technician’s brother who lived in the U.S.A who just had triplets. As we talked, and she ran the doppler over my 19-week hump, I watched her eyes flit back and forth over the ultrasound screen. Slowly our conversation came to a lull. As I asked questions, she didn’t respond as quickly as before. I watched her as she stared at the screen intently, not glancing at me once. Then she asked me, “Is your husband in the waiting room?”
I quickly answered, “Yes,” then looked right in her eyes.
She look at me and asked, “Is he in a hurry?”
All the while I am thinking who cares about if he is in a hurry. Then it clicked; there must be something wrong.
As though sensing my anxiety, she quickly rose from her swivel chair and headed to the door, saying, “I’m just going to go get him.”
And so I stayed there flat on my back, staring at the ceiling. A minute later the technician walked in with my husband in toe. He and I exchanged worrisome looks, as he came around to my left side and waited. The technician sat back down on her stool and clicked a button on the keyboard, then slowly started to explain her peculiar behavior.
“So, the reason I ask if you’re in a hurry is because this is going to take longer. I have to do ultrasounds for two.”
I looked at Rene, then back at the technician and asked a whopper of a stupid question. “Two what?”
She smiled and said, “Two babies. You’re having twins.” Then she turned the screen to face us and pointed at each little baby, nestled perfectly inside its own sac.
It was a good thing I was lying down.