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Oh, we’re ALL going in?

Pending US picture from the guys – J has the photo and needs to scan it in and send it to me.  That poor US tech…  she was lucky though, we could’ve played with her head a lot more!  So, I’m sitting outside the hospital because I’m freezing (like always) and it is warmer outside than inside.  The guys show up right at 7:45 and we head in.  We’re sitting in the waiting room discussing whatever while I’m actually nervous that we see beating hearts and health at this US.  Not feeling really pregnant most of the time leaves room for the mind to wander regularly and I’m not foreign to things not going well.

We get called in and the tech kinda laughs and says “Oh, we’re all going in?”  Yes, yes, the security escorts (As J called the two of them) go with me everywhere.  (Really though, J, I have a sneaky feeling that throwing out insults about the wrong-doers clothing not matching and how they shouldn’t be wearing white socks with black shoes won’t be nearly as much of a deterrent as you both might think. My preference for a gay security detail might run more along the lines of lesbians.)  Anyway, I and my two guys went back into the US room.  She asks for my LMP (why does this always blindside me?  Why do I forget so easily that the rest of the world doesn’t think in terms of IVF terms?)  I said I had no idea and that it didn’t matter because the transfer was on X date and the retrieval was on Y date and blah blah blah.  She starts to get it was IVF and asks if we’re just here to date the pregnancy.  Um, if we know the day the sperm and egg met, I’m thinking we don’t need dating services.  I said we really just wanted to verify how many there were and she looked at me funny.  Then she said we’d be too early to see much.  Interestingly, later in the US when we were having a hard time seeing a heartbeat I said (to comfort the guys) that barely 6 weeks along was early to see that for sure on the US and she said no – no – 6 weeks you really should be seeing a heartbeat.  Um, thanks.  I was trying to be nice but whatever.  Apparently we’re far enough along that we really should see a heart beat but NOT far enough along to see how many.  She also plugged in the dates and claimed us to be 6 weeks and 6 days along so clearly, even the medical world can’t keep track of the timing and dates and everything accurately.

Then I got to mount the table.  This was actually done very unceramoniously, but maybe I’ve just done it so many times I’m not impressed by the towel to keep my waistband dry or the warm (OMG that is HOT) gel that was dumped on my belly.  The machine was turned on and there were two little babies growing in two little gestational sacs.  We got baby A’s heart right away but baby B was harder to pin down so out came the dildo-cam and I got to go disrobe from the waist down.  At least I wasn’t wearing my heals.  For some reason coming into a room with a sheet wrapped around my nude ass and high heals strapped to my feet make me feel like swanky music should be playing.  It was all worth it though because there was Baby B’s heart beating away.

My blog here had noted a few days ago ( I think it is still there) that the baby is now the size of a grain of rice.  I mentioned that at the US and J, I’d never say a mean word in my LIFE J, said “Long grain and short grain.”  OMG, I almost fell off the table.  (That would’ve been bad due to the whole sheet over my naked butt thing.)  Poor P.  He’s not quite as tall as he would like to be and because we know that it bugs him, we can’t help ourselves but pick on him for it.  Well, *I* can’t.  Usually J does.  I couldn’t believe he said that.  Anyway, continuing the theme, the babies were measured and A was longer so baby A is now baby J and baby B is now baby P.   I tried telling the US tech to go back to the first baby after measuring the second and say “Oh, look, there’s another one here!”  She wouldn’t do it.  Boring.

When the guys went out just after I disrobed for the transvaginal US, the tech asked me if I was doing a surrogacy.  She was so excited when I said yes.  She said she had always thought of doing it but just never did.  She was all “Good for you!” and such, but I did catch that when she asked later how I was doing she said “How ya holding up there mom?”  Not that she was incorrect, I AM a mom… just not THE mom here.  Oh well, habits, I’m sure.  The guys said that I should’ve told her that I just wasn’t sure who the father was so I invited them both.  I’ve now decided that if it comes up again I’m just going to say it was a really wild threesome and now we don’t know who the parents are. 

So there we are.  TWO.  Baby J and baby P.  Now I’m accepting in-utero name suggestions.


2 Responses

  1. Congratulations! Two… How exciting!

  2. Two,… WOW! That’s cool. Hopefully you’ll still think 2 is cool when you’re in the 3rd trimester… I like the “long grain and short grain” comment, that’s pretty funny.

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