I still can't decide if I should write about this, what I should write about this, how I feel about this, how I should feel about this. But here it is. Magnus was a twin. Was. big WAS.
Not for long. Maybe 5weeks. But still.
Because I'd had the miscarriage, I called and made an appointment right away when I found out I was pregnant. They saw me at 5 weeks. Did and ultrasound and saw two little blobbies. I asked if it could be twins and they said yes. Could be. But not necessarily.
So I came back at 7 weeks. Because they were hoping to see a heartbeat then. They did. It was Magnus's. By then there were dark spots on my ultrasound too though. They didn't like that. Doctors weren't sure what it meant. Could be another miscarriage in waiting. Could've been lots of things. So I waited another 2 weeks to go in for another ultrasound. At 9 weeks they were hoping they'd be able to tell but said it was possible they wouldn't. I counted dayshoursminutesseconds. It was loooooonnnggg.
When I went in at 9 weeks, they said the spots were the same so not to worry and Magnus would be fine. But then he was just a little bloppie. The ultrasound picture of him was bigger than him.
Fast forward 31 weeks and a live birth later. And there were those dark spots live and in placenta. And they seemed to indicate multiples. At least one other baby was there.
Which means there's another little lost one. And I feel mixed emotions. Like I should shut up about it because I got this awesome healthy baby, who, every time I put my head to his chest, has this amazing heart beat that rushes along full speed ahead.
But also, like I lost another one. Seriously? Rewind 35 weeks- I was sure there were twins. Scared about it too. Because twins come out earlier. Because almost all mountain babies are put on oxygen and trying to pull two babies around on oxygen sounded scary. Plus, TWINS! Two of everything. Two car seats, double stroller, twice the diapers, twice the breast feeding, twice the bedtimes. But rewind 35 weeks and a large part of me wanted to have those twins. I could do it, right?
But I was spared that. Or something. Part of me thought it was lucky that I wouldn't have to care for twins. And felt bad about it. But part of me feels the loss of another baby. As Lora might say, another ghost baby. Maybe my first baby needed the company. But my heart didn't. Didn't need the company or the confusion.