June 11th, 2007: Erasmus Medical Center, GYN

Because it couldn't be 100% confirmed at IJsselland that the twins are fraternal, we need to go to the big (and my god, do I mean big - this place is like a city in & of itself) hospital where another GYN will determine if the twins are fraternal or identical. There's a two-day growth difference between the babes, which is worrisome if they are identical. An identical twin pregnancy turns out to be fraught with danger, especially at my age. I had no idea that so many things could go wrong. Of course, I've been Googling everything I can find to read - including some really horrific stuff that I've managed to scare myself silly with. Every night at bedtime, I lay my hands on my belly and think good thoughts to the babies. I swear I can feel something in return, a sort of awareness. I know it sounds cracked, but I really do feel something ... till the day before this appointment. So now I've been putting myself through terrors that something went wrong....

This hospital is everything I don't like about hospitals. It's huge. It's totally impersonal. There are creepy people everywhere, no doubt spreading awful germs all over the place. Oh, I hate hospitals. We finally get our card and are pointed in the right direction of the part of this sprawling edifice that we need to be in. We're a little early, but the wait is short and we're soon in the office of a small, gray-haired, very brusque doctor. Nicky is with us again, and manages to melt some of the frost off her. I cannot understand her - she has some accent, combined with her very short way of speaking. I feel like an imbecile. She scolds us for not announcing we have twins - this is not in the file, this is not regular, this should not be done this way. I feel frustrated because the other hospital made the appointment and it would seem their job to convey this information.

We head over to the exam table where she yanks at my clothing and pours the gel all over the place (including my clothes). She can't make the babies out clearly. I start to panic again. She won't talk to us about what she sees or doesn't see. We don't know why she's acting this way and I begin to worry in earnest. She says she's going off for another doctor to have her to take a look. I can't even glance at Niek and Nicky, I'm too scared. The other doctor comes in very quickly and takes over the controls. She pushes the handset hard into my belly, after first criticizing the other doctor's methods, and voila, there are the twins. I can see heartbeats. But the whole purpose of this seems only to be to measure the septum, which divides them, and to ensure they have individual placentas. The other doctor does this and leaves without saying much of anything. Our doctor scuttles over to the desk area and starts setting up another appointment after advising us on the risks associated with my age. We explain we want only the nuchal tranparency test, which poses no risk at all. "But that's inconclusive with twins! You'll want another test to be sure!" I start to feel like I need to argue, but then I realize that I don't have to go to any appointments I don't want. We schedule the NT scan and leave, with me muttering that I don't want to go back to this hospital any more than absolutely necessary.