Backstory: Part 3

We waited the 12 days.
I was extra careful with what I ate (whatever I wanted plus fruit),
what I lifted (fork to mouth),
what I did (taught and slept),
what I drank (agua and milk and juice).

And I was extra cautious about every little twinge that I felt.
I was just waiting to miscarry.
Expecting it at any second
but praying with my whole heart that it wouldn't happen.

Thankfully, I had no signs.
No symptoms.
Except the normal pregnancy symptoms,
which I accepted with a thankful heart.

Our next appointment was May 24.
(Which also happened to be my last day of school--
a day full of emotions to begin with.)

We met at the clinic
and waited.
Forever.
and ever.
Amen.
Forever.

And maybe that was a good thing.
Because my feelings of annoyance were starting to take over
my feelings of nervousness.
Until D told me he was nervous.

Dr. T (Dr. G was out of town) came in,
along with a resident that had been there when we couldn't find Nugget's heartbeat.
I was sure that was a sign.
A bad one.

They turned down the lights,
I closed my eyes,
and held my breath.
I refused to look at the screen.
(I know exactly what to look for to see the heartbeat
and I refused to see that still screen again).

He moved the magic wand around and then said,
"You have one healthy embryo."
I was relieved.
One down,
one to go.

Gummy Bear Baby.

And then he said words that I never thought I would hear,
"And you have another healthy baby in here.
Both look great."

What?
My heart about beat out of my chest.
And every expletive I knew was about to burst out of my mouth.
But, he was right.
After doing extensive measuring and listening,
we found out that both of them- both precious little millimeters of wonder-
were doing well.
In fact, they were both measuring ahead of schedule.

Tic-Tac Baby surrounded my miraculous Jesus womb.

Now.
I don't know what the heck happened.
It could be that since little one was squished in that comma-shaped sac,
that Dr. G. couldn't get a good measurement.

Or, it's more likely,
that I just have a womb of miraculous wonders.
My womb can bring things back to life.
Kind of like the tomb of Jesus.
I may, in fact, have a womb of Jesus.

(But, I'm pretty sure not.)