What was that jump rope song from way back in elementary school? I only remember the part that it keeps repeating until you mess up, “Boy, Girl, Twins, Triplets.” I remember always trying to mess up on the twins part. I guess I did that enough times because years later it’s happening.
When I found out that my belly was housing two humans, I realized that somewhere deep down I had felt that I was going to have twins. Don’t get me wrong, never in a million years would I have guessed it, but there were a few instances that had me thinking “twins” before our ultrasound.
First off, I was sicker than sick. On several occasions, I called my mom crying because I just wanted to feel normal again. I wanted to do something besides lay on the couch all day and throw up all the time. I had been reading up about morning sickness, and the things I was reading were saying that with multiples, women tend to be more sick because there are more hormones. I asked my mom on numerous occasions if she thought maybe I was having twins. She never for one second entertained the idea of twins because “they were just so uncommon.” Twins also doesn’t run in our family so it was an off the wall idea. I always came back to the twins thing though. I must have joked about it being twins more than a handful of times, I mean, how in the world could I be this sick?
Another gut feeling I had was the midwife vs. OB. For my whole adult life, I knew I was going to use a midwife, but when I went in, I felt so wrong about it. Currently, there are no midwife clinics in Vancouver (there might be some in Portland) that will deliver twins, so I would have ended up with an OB anyhow. I’m so happy I had that gut feeling because it was my choice instead of by default that I would use an OB. I’m not a particularly stubborn person, but when it comes to my body I like to make my own choices.
Then the kicker. This one wasn’t a gut feeling, but was God telling me, “Chelsa, you’re having twins.” When I was a younger I ALWAYS wanted to get a double yolk egg. It was a minor obsession of mine. I would always want to crack the eggs because I knew that if I cracked enough, I would have to eventually get a double yolker. Alas, I never got a double yolk egg. My brother and sisters would somehow get them, but those dang double yolks always eluded me. This was until one morning I was making eggs, I was about 7 or 8 weeks along. I cracked an egg, single yolk. I cracked another egg and BAM! I finally got my sought after double yolk egg. I snapped a picture and sent it to Nick saying, “2 eggs and 3 yolks! Whaaaat?” He replied, “I wonder if this is a sign LOL.”
Some may call this a coincidence, but in my heart I know it was the Big Guy upstairs giving me a heads up.