The Big Reveal

Everyone is duly informed now.  We had a great trip to upstate NY to tell James's parents -- but what a long drive.  We had to stop half-way there and buy me a pillow and blankie for the rest of the trip.  Once there, however, it was pure joy.  The future grandparents reacted exactly like we'd hoped they would.  James actually started the "talk" by saying, "We didn't come up her to visit."  James's mom's face dropped.  Why did we come?  Then he said we came to tell them they were going to be grandparents.  She jumped up from the table and I jumped up to hug her, but she had made a bee-line to her son, whose head she hugged and kissed.  Then I got my hug with her, then I hugged his dad who was still sitting in his chair at the table.  Next, I introduced the ultrasound pics as planned, and when I came to the "and this is both babies together" punchline, their faces fell in confusion, and then lit up again with even more joy.  James's dad grabbed my hand, which James said was the most emotion he'd ever shown in his whole life.  Pretty soon the phone calls were on to the rest of the family.  And I retreated to a nap, which I did every few hours for the rest of the weekend.  It was lovely.  The whole thing was lovely.  It has been a long time -- I don't even remember when the last time I was around so much happiness just bubbling up through laughter and smiles and excited talking. When we came home, I called my brother first, since he's my twin, and told him the news.  He was at work.  He first said he was jealous, and then started working out how this would screw up the dynamic with his soon-to-be daughter.  He said, "If you have two boys, then they'll gang up on their girl cousin.  If you have two girls, they'll all be best friends until they're teenagers, then they'll turn on each other..."  I don't remember the gloomy picture he painted for the one-of-each permutation.  He was joking, of course.  That's so David. From then I told my Dad, who happened to be driving through town that day, by showing him the ultrasound pictures.  "Do you know what you're looking at?" I asked him.  He didn't really.  "You're looking at two babies."  He broke into a sly smile and nodded.  It was really really subdued.  But when he learned that I'd told him before I told Mom, he pulled both elbows to him, fists clenched, and let out a "YESS!!!"  We spent a lot of time from then talking about when he discovered (the day David and I were born) that he and Mom were having twins.  Suffice it to say that it's a lot different now than it was in 1972.  He said they learned earlier in the day that it was going to be twins, and they had to scramble in the labor room to think of names for two babies.  We were 6 weeks premature, so they hadn't worked out names for one boy and one girl, let alone two of each in case we were single-sex. In the afternoon when Mom was off work, I invited her to come over to see the ultrasound.  I had told her that she couldn't see it until my in-laws saw it, in the interest of fairness.  I really thought she had an inkling that it was twins because I'd written my grandmother, the first week we were pregnant, before the ultrasound, saying we suspected twins based on the hCG numbers.  I'd told her it was top-secret (I only told her because I thought that she was going to die within the month... which she totally didn't).  So my cousin had called me several days later and told me that Mamaw was letting people read my "top secret" letter.  So of course that's when I started denying the twin "rumor" flat-out.  Lying to my family, you could say.   Well, I did a good job of dissimulating, because Mom was completely surprised.  She said that back at the very beginning Mamaw had said, "Kay's having twins, isn't she," and Mom had to "correct" her.  Ah, the senile old lady.  Ha!  So I sat Mom and my step-sister (who came with) on either side of me on the couch to see the ultrasound pictures.  I handed each one a picture and then pointed out, "See, here's the first baby and there's the second baby."  My mom's mouth fell open and she got silent.  She was confused.  When she figured it out, she said, "So you've known for two weeks and haven't told!?"  I told her no: I'd known the whole time!  She was stunned.  And thrilled.  She kept hugging me and calling me her little twin.  When she left, she must have told me "congratulations" about three separate times; it was just like she found out about the pregnancy all over again.  She said that now people couldn't make fun of me for being so sick.  "People are making fun of me?"  I asked.  Well, no, she said, but they really can't now. After I told the nuclear family, I posted on my blog (www.achievingconceiving.blogspot.com) and got calls right away.  My friend Lucy called and yelled into my ear: "I knew it!  I knew it!  I've been telling people you're having twins for weeks now, because you're so HUGE!"  Another friend called crying, saying she couldn't wait to see me in October, and she knew I'd be "ginormous."  That's a theme. And apparently I'm doing my part to perpetuate it. Yesterday I went to the OB and found that I haven't gained any weight at all in a month.  But I've definitely been getting rounder.  I guess I've been losing weight in my regular ("my") body and just gaining it elsewhere.  Life without a sweet tooth is a strange thing.  Of course it would have ramifications on me.  But why couldn't that have happened years ago? The babies are still doing well: heart rates yesterday were "140s to 150s" and "150s."  Sounded good to me.  And I made it to and from the OB without getting sick or crying, so that in itself was an achievement. I'm still exhausted and, though I occasionally have bouts of energy (imagine me typing all this a month ago.  Wouldn't have happened) I still need to lie down most of the time.  I was looking at a weekly pre-natal yoga class at the hospital, wondering if I could sign up for the weekday morning class.  The thing is, if I'm well enough to do an hour of yoga, I'd like to think I could actually go back to work and earn some money before I go down for good.  But at 14.5 weeks, I'm still a functional basket case.  I guess I'll do what I've been doing: just waiting and seeing, and in the meantime, lying in bed. So that reminds me.  Time to go lie down.   I'm sending out baby dust spores as fast as I can, pointing them all over the country, especially Texas. Love, Kay