Updated: August 13, 2015
Originally Published: July 25, 2013
Nearly four years have passed since that unforgettable day, yet the memory feels incredibly fresh. The room was dimly lit as I reclined, the technician slathering a warm gel across my belly. I cringed, disliking that sensation intensely. “Do you perhaps have any of that gel that’s not warmed up?” I asked playfully, hoping for a less uncomfortable experience.
“What? Oh, I don’t think so; most people prefer it warm,” she replied.
“Yuck, not me. It feels like, you know, something gross.”
“Wow, I’ve never heard that before,” she chuckled.
“Yeah, I get that a lot,” I replied, trying to lighten the mood.
“Shall we begin?”
“Yes, let’s.”
As she maneuvered the plastic wand across my abdomen, sound waves were sent through me, capturing images in real-time. The technician took measurements and emitted thoughtful “hmmms.”
“What’s that ‘hmm’ for?” I asked, curiosity piqued.
“Is this your first sonogram?”
“No, I had several when I was pregnant with my first,” I said, blissfully unaware of the gravity of her tone.
“No, I mean, is this your first one for this pregnancy? Do you know anything yet?”
“Oh, right, this is the first one. Nope, we don’t know anything—just that I’m definitely pregnant, ha ha!” I laughed, oblivious to the real news she was about to deliver.
“Okay, so what do you see here?” she prompted.
“Look! There’s the baby! That’s the head, the arm, and the legs,” I gestured toward the monitor, my husband peering closely from my side.
“Great,” she said, moving the wand to the other side of my belly. “And what do you see now?”
“Um, the baby turned over?” I ventured, noticing the profile had shifted.
“Nooooo.”
[Long, dramatic pause.]
“Two babies.”
“WHAT?” I exclaimed, sitting up abruptly, wide-eyed and stunned.
“I’m just the messenger,” she said, holding her hands up defensively.
“WHAT?” I repeated, still grappling with the revelation.
“Two babies.”
“WHAT?” The question felt necessary, as if it could somehow change the reality before me. “HOW? WHAT?”
“Well, let’s see…” she said, gently guiding me back to a reclined position and pointing out the evidence: two umbilical cords, two placentas, and two amniotic sacs. There they were—four arms, four legs, and two heads.
Shock coursed through me. My mind raced with overwhelming thoughts. We only wanted to give our daughter a sibling—not two! Three kids? That felt like chaos. I grew up with two sisters, and never once did our teams feel even. A family of five? “Party of Five” wasn’t exactly a favorite of mine. Our house has only three bedrooms! Too small for twins! Twins. OMG, I’m going to have to manage TWO crying babies at once!
She explained that the twins were likely fraternal. “Two eggs,” she said.
“Two eggs?” I echoed. “So this is my fault?”
“What?” she replied, confused. “There’s no fault here. Just two babies.”
“Yeah, I got that part. But how? No twins in either family.” I gestured to my husband, still silently processing behind me.
Looking back at the screen, she said, “Let’s see, it says you are 35. As women age, their bodies tend to release more viable eggs.”
“Like rats off a sinking ship?”
“Um, yeah, you could say that,” she chuckled awkwardly.
I somehow made it through the rest of the exam, feeling dazed as she measured all the necessary parts. I walked out, still in shock. I called my sister, saying, “You are NEVER going to believe what just happened.”
Four years later, and the surprise still lingers.
For more insights into pregnancy and home insemination, check out this excellent resource on pregnancy and explore the various options at Make a Mom. And if you’re curious about other experiences, take a look at our blog post on intracervical insemination.
Summary:
This article recounts a woman’s unexpected journey to discovering she was having twins during a routine sonogram. The shock and disbelief she experienced, coupled with humorous anecdotes about pregnancy, reflect the complexity of emotions that accompany such news. With helpful links to resources on pregnancy and home insemination, readers can find support and information.