It was about this time 12 months ago that we found out we were having twins. I had always secretly wanted twins. The first time I was pregnant. We were planning on two kids, so I thought it would be cool to get it over and done with. All in one go. You know, economies of scale and all that.
At about 8-9 weeks pregnant, I was off to the OB. Tim couldn’t make it. He’s a teacher and it’s a bit hard to discreetly arrange time off without people knowing. This was no different to being preggy the first time round. He got to scans and appointments when he could.
So off I went to the obstetrician. I was going to wait until after my 12 week scan to go, but my GP suggested that seeing how I was “old… er, at higher risk” that I should go sooner. I had Layne with me and we were heading straight from the doctors to swimming lessons.
All was normal. Said hi to the Obs, who I hadn’t seen since Layne was born. Just pop up on the couch. Trying to keep Layne occupied. Cold gel on my tummy. Oh, there’s two in there. UM, WHAT?
Tears. Tissues. Reassurance that this is a perfectly normal reaction to finding out you are having twins.
“Well, that will increase Tim’s chances of having a boy.”
“No, they’re identical.” Spoken in perfectly-matter-of-fact-pommy-accent.
Back to the chair for a bit of a chat. I had to share this with Tim. Straight away. While chatting about this with the OBs, I sent my husband a text message [language warning!]. I think he thought I was joking, but the frantic missed calls suggest maybe not.
I finally got out of the office and was able to speak to Tim on the phone. Still crying. And off to swimming lessons.