First, thanks to everyone for your thoughtful comments and suggestions over the last few posts. It became apparent that this new, sickly version of myself was normal, and I’ve wondered how you all have managed it. You guys must be superheroes!
Well, my “real” ultrasound isn’t until next week, but my doctor did want to do one before he left for vacation. It was early, a day shy of 6 weeks, but I knew we would find out something very important. And we did. There were 2 black blobs, 2 little circles, 2 “fetal poles”. Lord, at least right now I can honestly say – I’m having twins!!!
No wonder I feel like crap.
I was afraid to share this here at first because it is so early. What if we go to our ultrasound next week (I’ll be 7 and a half weeks) and one black blob is empty? It happens and I am trying to prepare myself for it. But I guess I’m just thinking, for the time being, there are two little mini-babies in there. My doctor, who tries not to get you pregnant with multiples, might be kicking himself. He was the one who recommended two to be put in, after all. I guarantee that if he thought they both were going to take, he never would’ve put them both in. But we wanted to anyway. We are a couple of happy individuals.
It has taken me a few days, as I am still working through the shock and denial of being pregnant at all, not to mention with twins, and I’m still not even close to imagining two babies in our house, but I can say that I’m finally excited. Really, really excited. Holy crap!!! When did this all happen? It’s just crazy-town. I can’t believe it.
I had always thought that to some extent, the degree of morning sickness you have is genetic. My mother barely had anything, so I was looking forward to feeling good most of the time. But the game all changes when there’s more than one being in there. So yeah, this around-the-clock nausea was no joke.
I jinxed myself, too. Not 10 minutes after my last post I went and threw up. And while my stomach felt better, I was a sweaty, weak mess. And that is no fun. Over the course of about five days, I lost about six pounds. I called the nurse and worried aloud what to do about the fact that I could not eat. Like, anything. Just couldn’t do it. And when I did force food, I actually felt worse. But I also didn’t want to land myself in the hospital. And the nurse said, “If you can’t eat, don’t. You’ll survive without food for a few days.” To keep myself out of the hospital, I needed to drink.
Fast forward to today. Zofran is a million-dollar miracle, worth every penny I spend on it, not covered by insurance. And by that I mean $55 for 10 pills, and I took 4 a day. But I went from being bed-ridden, sucking down ice chips and shaking uncontrollably, to finally being able to eat, though not much at a time. I will be able to go to work. I can deal with all day mild nausea. I just was able to drop my middle-of-the-night dose, because I feel great when I’m sleeping. So now it’s 3 pills a day. Hopefully, as time goes by, I’ll be off of it entirely. But until then, it has allowed me to function like a person again. A person who is pregnant with twins, at least for today.