A tale of two ultrasounds

There are few things in life that can immediately and irrevocably change your life plans, and finding out you're going to be a parent probably tops the list. I'll never forget the moment that Meg and I got the positive pregnancy test and jointly realized (in this order and approximately 0.3 milliseconds apart):
1) We're having a BABY! Wheeeee!
2) Holy shit, we're having a baby

3) LET'S GO BUY ADORABLE ONESIES

4) We need to get our acts together

We made our pilgrimage to the book store and got the pregnancy books, and, sticking to tradition, Megan has read about 17 books while I've skimmed through the pages of one (Pssssh, I'm a medical professional, how tricky can these things be?)

The first ultrasound (8 weeks)

We wanted to be cautious in the opening weeks and not blast it out on Facebook just in case we had the misfortune of not carrying our little miracle to term. We decided that after our first ultrasound at 8 weeks, if we saw the heartbeat and everything looked good, we could start to expand our excitement from private to public. There was an incredible anxiety to seeing our little one for the first time and making sure everything was okay. They say that hearing the heartbeat for the first time is when you really start to make a place in your life for the little guy- it really sinks in and you start to adapt your life plan around adding someone new to the family.

Imagine our surprise when there were two little heartbeats... TWO little miracles in there. The doctor conducting the ultrasound nonchalantly announced that we would be having twins. Despite weeks of me joking with Megan that she was probably going to drop quadruplets and observing that from her symptoms she was getting REALLY pregnant REALLY fast, it was still the shock of a lifetime. Our reactions were interesting; I burst into happy/nervous/hysterical laughter, and Megan burst into happy/nervous/overwhelmed tears.

We were shocked. There were no fertility drugs, a very scant history of twins on Megan's side and none on my side. Our cozy family of two was going to expand into a mini-van-necessary family of four in a matter of months.

Cue the cinematic montage of us adapting to this huge change:
- Picking out second names for boys and girls in case we got two of each
- Meg checking out an additional 7 books from the library
- Diligent research on the best brand of double-strollers
- Me quietly shelving any hopes of owning a sports car within the next 2 decades
- Giving her belly 2 kisses goodnight instead of 1
- Can we fit TWO cribs in the nursery? Can we fit TWO of EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE?
- Looking at our finances, organizational abilities, strengths and weaknesses, and deciding that while twins wouldn't be our first choice, we love both these little multi-cellular sacs of goo anyway and WE CAN DO THIS. we think we can do this

We were hoping hoping hoping for a boy and a girl but would've been ecstatic even if it was 2 boys, 2 girls, or 1 human child and 1 puppy (it's a MIRACLE, remember?). There are some odd prides in being pregnant with twins:
- Man, are we FERTILE
- Try to keep up with the Reamsnyders now! Booya!
- We can buy ADORABLE sets of outfits (Halloween: Ketchup and Mustard! OSU games: Football jersey and cheerleader outfit! Give them ALL to me!)

However, amid the excitement, there was great fear. Besides the overwhelming changes to the life plan, there was increased danger. The likelihood of needing a C-section increases to 60% with multiples. Multiples immediately put Megan onto the "High-risk" pathway for prenatal care and check-ups.   The little squishy guy on the right was measuring smaller than the little squishy guy on the left. The doctor told us to be cautious and to come back in two weeks for another ultrasound. Our day of joy in confidently shouting the news from the rooftops would have to wait.

The second ultrasound (10 weeks)
For 2 weeks, we prepared anxiously for confirmation of our 2 little champs' viability. The first ultrasound was just a snapshot in time, but the second would give us insight into their progression and trajectory. We hoped for the best but tried to mentally prepare for the worst. Our visions of a family of four could shrink to three, or the absolute worst fear- no additions at all. The day before and the morning of the appointment were intentionally full of attention-consuming activities, but the tension was still apparent. Finally, it was time to go to the doctor's office and see what there was to see.

If you've never seen an ultrasound in person before, I can assure you that it is NOT intuitively grasped.  There's basically a whole lot of black and white blurs and it's very hard to perceive size or depths. That being said, I could tell more from watching the doctor's movements than from the screen itself; a definite and confident pause on one white blur (is that a little ARM I see wiggling?), and then an uncomfortable search for a second white blur. After what seemed like an eternity but couldn't have really been more then 10 seconds, the doctor announced that she could only see one baby, but that it was a very healthy-looking baby. It is hard to describe the conflicting, but equally powerful, emotions that rocked me with this latest revelation. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. We had mentally prepared for the possibility of a vanishing twin but you don't really know how it will make you feel until the news hits you. In fact, this happened a few days ago and I still don't know exactly how to feel.
The sadness in losing one was in stark contrast to the joy at seeing the healthy one. And this little guy put on a show as if to convince us that it indeed was going to become a permanent fixture in our lives;  

 If there was ever any doubt that this was indeed the child of Jake Reamsnyder:
1) Look at that head! That's a classic giant-Reamsnyder dome
2) This thing had attitude and most of all it had MOVES. It was gyrating and wiggling in the ways that only Drunk-at-A-Wedding-Jake can showcase 
3) Upon seeing this little guy (now dubbed Baby Wiggles) alive and well, we unconditionally and irreconcilably fell in love with it. 

 So we shall be a family of three. We are still struggling to wade through the tides and waves of the conflicting emotions. I had made space in my heart for two and now I guess I'll just have to love one twice as much. The hardest thing is that one is just GONE while the other is doing so well. The body just reabsorbs it while maintaining the other pregnancy. Ever since reaching real adulthood in the last few years, if I knew that at age 25, I'd be living comfortably with a beautiful wife and a baby on the way, I would have said "That sounds like life is going according to the perfect plan." But, all it takes is a 5-minute ultrasound of seeing two little heartbeats, and you throw away years of the best-laid plans; you want that whole new plan more than anything you've ever wanted. For just two weeks I went all-in on my big family and it is hard to snap back, even if I'm really just going back to the old, originally-ideal plan.

 The pictures from the first ultrasound and our memories are the only evidence of what might have been.
 When thinking rationally, I accept that something must not have been right with the second one and that it is for the best. When thinking rationally, I accept that having just one will be easier and safer for all. When thinking rationally, I accept that we have all indications of a beautiful baby on the way and that is news to be cherished and treasured. But I struggle to think rationally, and I struggle to accept.

Writing this is somewhat cathartic as I have had tremendous difficulty expressing myself when talking to people over the last few days. How can I express the relief and joy at seeing one healthy baby, while not glossing over the sadness and guilt I feel over the second? How can I be excited about the blessing we have without dishonoring the one we don't? I know that over time the raw anguish will subside and be replaced with the richness and wonder, the fullness of life that will come with raising Baby Wiggles.

My mom, in her pseudo-Catholic-Buddhist spirituality, comforts us and tells us that maybe we just weren't meant to meet this little soul at this time but that she's sure we will meet it eventually. She was telling us about the miscarriage she had a little bit before she had my oldest brother Lee, and while the sadness and grief is still evident while she tells us of something that happened over 3 decades ago, I am comforted by her conviction that it was meant to be. If the miscarriage hadn't happened, the timing would have all been off, and me and my siblings would not be as we are. If that were so, there would be no Jake and Megan, and there would be no Baby Wiggles right now. I take some comfort in the fact that if our situation was different, we might be depriving somebody 20 years down the road of meeting our second or third child as their soulmate.
 Fate is a precarious, damned fickle thing. I hope fate knows what it is doing.