Everyone can remember the exact moment when they found out they were pregnant. Don’t get me wrong, that moment was exhilarating and exciting (probably not as much for Ryan because I was so excited that I texted him during a work meeting). But that’s not the moment that comes to my mind when I think of my pregnancy. Instead, I can vividly recall when the nurse doing my ultrasound nonchalantly said, “Oh, you have two babies in there.” I’m sorry, what? How can there be two babies, and how can you be so calm about this, lady?
I was baffled. Up until this point, this is what we knew: our baby (what I thought was one baby) was the size of a blueberry according to the pregnancy app I immediately downloaded after receiving a positive pregnancy test, and morning sickness found me, set up shop, and made my life (and appetite) miserable…so much so that Ryan joked that there might be twins in there. I told him no chance, that was crazy, pregnant women all around the world experience morning sickness. Although, inside, I kept thinking, “oh my god, I’m literally on the verge of dying, what is happening, is this a baby or some sort of demon that invaded my body?”
Oh, and we also had just bought a new car for our growing family. Despite both of our dads’ advice to “just get the suburban, you’ll need all that room!”, we opted for a Ford Explorer. I justified this decision to Ryan by pointing out that 1. we were only having one baby (joke was on us!), we didn’t need all that room and 2. a suburban probably wouldn’t even fit in our garage.
Wow, was I wrong…and WOW, Ryan was RIGHT.
We left the doctor’s office that morning with a long roll of ultrasound pictures showing two black areas labeled “A” and “B.” Ironically our parents’ had the same reactions–our moms were in disbelief and were convinced we were joking at first, and our dads told us we should have gotten the suburban (we do have a suburban now). We sent our siblings the picture of the ultrasound over text and they all responded with various forms of, “What does this mean?” Two blueberries, folks! Two blueberries!
We started telling the rest of our family and friends right at 10 weeks. Basically, we couldn’t wait any longer because I was already showing. I don’t think it took long for my close colleagues to figure something was up–I looked like a walking zombie (in pants where the button was begging to be undone), sipping on Ginger Ale and eating dry cereal all morning and then enjoyed Chick-Fil-A, McDonalds, or the best equivalent from our cafeteria for lunch with a Coke.
I am convinced fast food (especially Chick-Fil-A) and Coke got me through pregnancy. To make life easier, Ryan memorized my order. My doctor told me I could have one cup of something caffeinated a day, so I would look forward to that Coke every. single. day. Luckily I was so sick during my first trimester that I had no desire for coffee. Later on, I had to really choose which caffeinated beverage I wanted…I weighed my options as if I was trying to figure out some nuclear code. I don’t regret it at all.
I knew people were catching on that I was probably pregnant, but I knew they would never guess the entire story. My favorite part of telling our family and friends that I was pregnant was their reaction when we mentioned, “oh by the way, there’s two in there!”
Ryan and I have always thought of our life together as an adventure. Up until this point, “adventure” referred to travel…we landed on a glacier in Alaska, got engaged in Cuba, and swam with sharks in the South Pacific during our honeymoon. Here we were, a mere 9 months later, embarking on the biggest adventure of our lives, and we would need more than just a passport for this one.