Apparently One is Enough
I met Denise* at the mall. Embarrassing, but true. The kids were six months old and we'd go to the one place I could walk without bugs flying in my hair. I'd whip Thing One and Thing Two around kiosks selling cheap sunglasses and annoying children's toys. Lost about ten pounds. Never did buy one of those mugs with the kids' faces on it, though, but I talked up the guy who flew helicopters into unsuspecting shoppers. Ari was from Israel and needed a green card. Sue me.
Denise had girls a month younger than my boys. When we found each other, a playgroup grew. That playgroup is another blog entry altogether; however, out of all the "how we got our twins" stories, Denise's was the most interesting.
SIDE NOTE: Husband and I got our twins somewhere between the first and tenth day of conception. Coulda been the morning we rode rollercoasters in western Massachusetts or maybe as I walked through the Common one day coming home from work. God thought, "Let's have some fun" and zinged me. See? Not that interesting.
Denise and Carl* were different. They had fraternal twins, as opposed to identical, and how they came about involved a bit of a tale. You see, some people spend their twenties experimenting with drugs or getting humpty-humps out of their system. Carl battled testicular cancer. Such warfare left him wiser and happier than most. It also left him with one testicle and, unfortunately, sterile for life.
Before chemo, Carl set aside healthy sperm for future children. After going into remission, he and Denise spent years enduring IVF before successfully conceiving their girls.
Fast forward six years and suddenly Denise is facing her own health issues. Problems so bothersome, doctors finally suggested a full hysterectomy. Surgery was to take place today. Denise was sorta looking forward to a clean bill of health afterward. Last Thursday, after her pre-op, she called from a foggy, far-away place as if in shock.
"I can't have the surgery," she said.
Denise sounded disappointed and a little scared.
"Why? What's wrong?" I asked.
"Well," she struggled. "My blah-blah-blah numbers are too high..."
"I'm not a doctor, Denise! What does that mean? Does it mean you're okay or does it mean you're too sick to operate or does that mean..."
"It means I'm pregnant."
I stood up and screamed. And I'm not even a screamer. Ask my husband.
"Mazel Tov!"
"Yeah," she said, giggling. "Fourteen weeks along."
"Fourteen weeks!? How does a grown woman not know she's carrying a fourteen week-er?"
I know. I'm heartwarming.
"I thought I was getting fat. Another girl, too. Just one this time."
"Bless your heart," I said. "Bless Carl, too. A house full of women. What about your health?"
"The doctors said I'll be fine. Surgery can wait another six months or so."
"Well, good for Superman with his one little guy down there! So much for 'sterile for life.'"
"They said miracles sometimes happen, we just never thought..."
"Where's Carl now?"
"Quite proud of himself. Doing a victory lap through the neighborhood and yelling, 'My boys are back!'"
*Names have been changed to protect the perpetually embarrassed.
4 Comments:
A thing I recently learned: Girl sperm are stronger and more resilient than boy sperm and survive longer, thus after both their ordeal(s), it makes sense that they have a girl on the way. It's also why when you conceive later in your cycle rather than early, it's more likely to be a girl because the boy sperm die off and don't live as long, and...more girls are born than boys, I think. Useless tidbits, but hey, I'm just sayin....
Ah, she's in good company. Ruth Bader Ginsberg enjoyed the same impossible pregnancy surprise.
PT - you slay me. I do believe you know more than God.
;-)
Hello .. I want everyone to know that although we are all very shocked & surprised, the entire family is thrilled and looking forward to our new "miracle baby"!!
Carl's Mom
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