I remember that on the day of my birthday when I was expecting the twins, pregnancy had decided to bestow upon me a great gift -- my boobs inflated to what had to be another cup size and started leaking, and quite profusely, might I add. Today I turned 27, and again, the pregnancy powers that be have decided to grace me with another gift -- I puked, and quite profusely, might I add. I was in my closet searching for something to wear to work when I began to feel the all-too familiar lurching sensation at the back of my throat and the nervous-feeling at the pit of my stomach. When my salivary glands started going into overdrive, I knew that I was just a few seconds away from spewing. I took four huge lunging steps to the toilet and promptly threw up the cup of water that I'd downed just a few minutes earlier. Puking on an empty stomach is no fun; I wouldn't be surprised if the dry heaving nearly cracked a rib.
Despite having the bubbleguts, I am quite happy that morning sickness has begun; it is another indication that the pregnancy is going well. Even before my face was out of the toilet I started grinning. After drinking a bit more water, I went to call Becky. It's my birthday, but it's also the second year to the day that she had her D&C which ended her pregnancy with Faith. Becky answered not with a "Hello?" but with a "Happy birthday, Kymmie!"
After a short conversation on how much we both missed Faith, I told Becky that I had just puked for the first time. Becky had endured severe hyperemisis gravidarum with each of her pregnancies, and just the thought of me on my knees puking had her gagging. I haven't thrown up anymore today, but I've had to snack almost contantly to keep the "drop what I'm doing and run for the toilet" feeling at bay.
My second pregnancy present was my first ultrasound, which I actually had earlier this week. Frank was very quiet on the way to the appointment, no doubt savoring his last few moments of sanity before he expected to hear that he was soon to be the father of five children instead of just four. I was also quiet, my tummy bubbling with both nausea and nervous anticipation of what the ultrasound would show. The idea of having twins again really wasn't on my mind, but I was preoccupied with praying that we saw at least one healthy beanie with a steady heartbeat. I was worried that it would all turn out to be a cruel joke of some sort, still feeling the paranoia from the chemical pregnancy I had with the surrogacy transfer and also thinking of Becky's miscarriage, since our lives eerily seem to run on parallel tracks.
The ultrasound tech, Angie, was happy to see me there expecting a baby instead of for a follicle check. As soon as she started the ultrasound, we saw one (and only one) healthy gestational sack and the tiniest little grain of white fuzz that was the baby. When she got the wand at the right angle, we could see the barely perceptible flicker of the baby's heartbeat.
Though we were relieved to see that we were only having one (okay maybe I was a little disappointed that there weren't two), two things slightly worried me about the results: the baby measured two days behind, and the heart rate was on the very low end of normal. Dr. Edwards assured me that pregnancy milestones is relative timing, and that sometimes it just takes a few extra days for a baby's heart rate to really perk up. Just to be on the safe side, he has scheduled me to come in for another ultrasound in three weeks to recheck the heart rate.
Dr. Edwards is always very reassuring, and Frank and I left the appointment feeling happy, though I had obvious maternal worries.
Overall, Frank and I are feeling overjoyed that as of now, everything is going okay with our one Kirby. I trust in Dr. Edwards, and if he were overly concerned I'm sure that he would have told me. I'm just excited that this one little baby (which I hope is a girl) is here -- even if she is at this very moment telling me to head to the bathroom and assume the proper face-down position. "Happy birthday, Mom!" :)
Kym and Kirby