When you think of the best and worst days of your life I am sure that many images and feelings jump to the surface. I have many best days (thank God there are more bests than worsts). But I also have a few worst days. There are two days that will stand out in my mind forever. The first is the day that I found out that my first pregnancy (that took several years and so many doctors appointments and procedures I lost count to achieve) ended in miscarriage. The second is the day of my 17 week ultrasound of the girls.
We went for "the big ultrasound"... the one where you find out what you are having. It was early, we knew that, but it was possible. They were going to screen for other things but we might know if we were having boys, girls, one of each... The excitement for us and the rest of the family was infectious. I had this amazing feeling that we were going to find out.
We (Brian and I) arrived early for out appointment. We went to our regular OB's office. They called us back and the fun began. There were our two perfect little babies... swimming, bouncing, waving. It was amazing. They were so beautiful. The ultrasound technician was busy taking measurements while we held back tears, completely in awe. She told us that she knew what we were having and asked if we wanted to know. We both immediately told her yes. She told us "you are having two of the same gender" and I thought for sure it was two boys. When she said it was two girls I was over the moon (not that we didn't want boys but the thought of two little twin girls was so exciting).
And that was the end of the elation. Suddenly time slowed down. The ultrasound technician, although I cannot remember her name I will never forget her face, began to look worried. She was taking the same measurements over and over and over. She wouldn't speak. She wouldn't answer questions. She left the room making an excuse that she was having trouble getting a measurement and the doctor would just want to be sure.
The rest of that day is a blur. The doctor came in and took a million measurements. She explained that something in Baby A's brain did not look "typical". They wanted us to go to the hospital for a higher level ultrasound immediately. For me immediately meant right that very second. For them it meant three days later. So we waited and waited and waited.
Ok, so I am going to go all Charles Dickens on you (did you know that DIckins essentially invented the idea of the "cliffhanger" with the publication of the Pickwick Paper) but the rest of the story will be coming shortly.