no easy words

For several weeks, Niek and I have noticed that the twin on my left, the active one we'd dubbed the 'acrobat' in my sidebar, had not been moving the same way. Actually, there didn't seem to be any movement. When I told the hospital, they sort of poo-poohed me, saying that it was very unlikely to feel any movement so early in a pregnancy. Finally, I couldn't stand the uncertainty any longer and went in for an unscheduled ultrasound last week - my GYN is still on vacation, so I had to go up to the delivery wing in the hospital and wait. And wait. But it all seemed worthwhile when the midwife who did the ultrasound assured me that everything was absolutely 'perfect.' She repeated what we'd already been told, about movement being unreliable under 20 weeks. Apparently most of the medical profession seems to believe that pregnant ladies simply have a lot of gas.

I'd had fears of going into the gender ultrasound with the whole family only to find out that something was wrong. It was like a daytime nightmare or something. But with the hospital's assurance that the babies couldn't be better, Niek and I went ahead with the ultrasound with all the kids present. It was meant to be the first of many 'welcome to the family' parties.

But the moment the technician put the sensor on my belly, we could see that the first twin was dead. Thankfully, we had a very gentle and sympathetic technician, who was able to perform the necessary measurements in a respectful and caring way. Twin A, as she or he had been known, had stopped growing between 14 and 15 weeks. The ultrasound at the hospital only days before remains a mystery - it is clear that the baby had died weeks previously.

Twin B, who we have been feeling more & more often, and who is the first of all my children to be a morning baby (rather than a night owl), was growing on schedule and even slightly ahead of schedule. The heartbeat was strong and regular, and no problems could be spotted during this exam. The technician called my hospital and argued an appointment for us - whomever she was talking to wanted to put us off till after the weekend! - and we dazedly made our way home.

Today we went to the hospital to have a full medical work-up. Twin A's measurements were confirmed at approximately 15 weeks. There is no indication of why he or she died - everything seems absolutely perfect. The situation is eerily like what we went through last year when we lost Pepper, who was also absolutely perfect.

After checking all that could be checked, the exam moved on to the surviving twin. All measurements check out perfectly for 19 weeks. If not spot-on, the baby is slightly (but not abnormally) large for the age. And they measured everything! The motor cortex of the brain, the blood flow through the umbilical cord, the heart chambers and valves, the blood flow through the main arteries ... we were pretty amazed at what they can see and measure! There is absolutely no indication of a defect or abnormality. The technicians were remarkably sensitive and caring. I'm sorry I didn't catch their names - I have the feeling that I just sort of fade in and out of normal conversations and stuff right now - but they were really wonderful.

After that, we waited for a talk with the on-call GYN. That was rather less: the woman's very brusque manner had Niek and I wondering - is it part of some misguided medical training? We noticed the same behavior & mannerisms when we lost the baby last year, though we were at a different hospital. In short, the pregnancy will now continue as a singleton pregnancy which sort of places it at lower risk, but not really since we don't know why one twin died. There's no way of knowing if whatever happened to the one will happen to the other. When my GYN returns from holiday next week, we'll also meet with her.

I'm having some issues not only dealing with the staggering grief ... I don't believe I'd have made it through yesterday without Niek's constant support ... but also with anger. I go through these waves of fury. Furious with a doctor who left me for over 7 weeks with the comment that 'nothing much happens during the next couple of months'; furious with the midwife who totally and unforgiveably botched the ultrasound last week and left us to find out in the most unfortunate manner possible, turning a family celebration into shock, sadness, and confusion; furious at the medical profession which dismisses the genuine feelings of a pregnant woman because they're the doctors and they know better (who's going to know my body better - me, who's lived in it nearly 40 years, or a doctor who has spoken to me once or twice?). And then there's an anger that just doesn't have anywhere to go.

For the past two days, I've been sort of staggering from one minute to the next. Seriously, if it weren't for Niek, I'd be totally lost. And my kids. My heavens, they are some serious little lifelines. And we do have a healthy - for now, at least - little boy who needs us all to focus on the postitives, to will him through the next 20 weeks so he can get kisses from his brothers and sister and feel the arms of the mom and dad who have hoped and cried and dreamed of his arrival.