I’ve been meaning to come back and write another one of these for a while; there’s certainly been enough material. The most obvious topic is food. First time we did this, one of the most obvious symptoms of pregnancy before the miscarriage was that Christina tasted everything more vividly than ever before. It wasn’t just that, though: the flavors weren’t just intensified, but improved. In short, everything was absolutely delicious, and simply eating a nice meal became an occasion for rapture.

That symptom is back again this time, except it’s no longer an unmitigated good. Everything is more intense again, and food has definitely been on her mind; it’s no surprise these days when on three or four separate occasions per day, I’ll get a sequence of text messages rhapsodizing about a particular ingredient or flavor. The particular topic is almost always something new, and usually the things sound pretty good! The flipside is that every few days there’ll also be an aversion, some food the mere thought of which makes Christina nauseous. That’s no good, because she spends a lot of time nauseous these days; while she hasn’t yet actually vomited from morning sickness, she spends considerable time and energy suppressing that need.

Except for yesterday. Yesterday she didn’t feel any of those symptoms, which to me seemed a good thing. My sense of smell isn’t the sharpest at any time, and pregnancy elevates Christina’s to a superpower, which I usually hear about as sharp comments about my own odor. A reduction in these symptoms seemed like it was probably a good thing! Still, there was an undeniably worrisome aspect to it, given that the first indication of the previous miscarriage was the vanishing of symptoms.

Then, last night, she experienced some light spotting. Of course, the textbooks say that some light spotting in early pregnancy is no problem, and that it’s only something to bring to the doctor if it increases in intensity or lasts for more than 24 hours. On the other hand, we now had the vanishing of symptoms and some blood, precisely mirroring the process of the miscarriage last time. I did what I could to cheer Christina up, referencing the pregnancy books, spinning out a whole drawn-out analogy about how warships are well-equipped with pumps so that in the event of holing below the waterline they won’t necessarily sink even if they can’t be immediately repaired, but I’m not sure how effective any of that was. Keeping her morale up was important, but I couldn’t escape being kind of worried also. We’re a ways beyond the point at which the miscarriage occurred last time, but we’re not far enough past to consider ourselves out of the woods just yet.

Waking up this morning, my first comment to Christina was that I’d dreamt of her having triplets. Her response was that it’s a nice dream, but the chances are too low; the absolute chance of triplets is low enough already, and at any rate, this was sure to be a miscarriage.

As soon as the office opened, she called the ob/gyn’s office to get an opinion. Based on her symptoms, they told her that she was probably fine, but that if she wanted they could squeeze in a quick appointment for her; if she took it, they mainly expected it to be more about her mental health than the kid’s physical health. She decided to take it. We’d originally planned that the first ob/gyn visit would be a bit later, so that there would definitely be a heartbeat; after last time, we’re a bit wary of getting too excited, too soon. I certainly had no objection to changing the timeline, though; Christina was certain that it was another miscarriage, or that at the very best we had a 50% chance of a viable pregnancy at this point. On arrival, one of the first things the doctor said was that if this was another miscarriage, it would be time to begin diagnostic tests to figure out what was causing these failed pregnancies.

The ultrasound was the test, and it wasn’t a happy wait. Once it began, though, all the news was good! There’s the amniotic sac, easy to spot, and the fetus looking healthy. Excellent! There’s even some pulsing; not enough to describe as definitely a heartbeat, but a good indication of initial cardiac activity. Awesome! And for one more surprise: if he twisted the wand just right, peered into one particular corner, there’s… something. It’s smaller than the definite fetus, and harder to make out. Christina’s got a history of myomas, so that’s the simplest possibility. On the other hand, it doesn’t look like one. It’s too early to call, but it’s entirely possible that she is carrying twins!

You have to understand something about our family plans, here. I have two siblings; each of my parents has two siblings; three kids feels like a good, happy number to me. Christina was an only child, and her inclination is to have one child of our own, then stop. We’ve agreed for now to table the issue until after we’ve had one child, and then reopen the discussion once we have some idea of how being parents affects our lives. We’ve also agreed that having twins would be an excellent compromise, as the kids would get the companionship of having a sibling, but we’d only have to deal with the hassle of a single pregnancy.

It’s a facetious, almost ridiculous position, but there’s something to it. Being a twin marks a child forever as being special, unusual. While I’m certain that any kid of ours will be special and unusual, I’m told that every parent feels the same way; this would be something visible to the world. Plus, my sister is on her way to her fifth child right now, and Christina and I will never have that many, so having twins would be an excellent way to get a leg up in the “having an excellent, interesting family” competition we’ve got going on.

(My sister and I get along really well, and have since childhood, and we compete over everything. It’s fun! She is one of the major reasons I’m absolutely convinced that every child should get to have a sibling.)

The official diagnosis from the ob/gyn is that Christina is right now having a healthy pregnancy. They offered to write her a sick note for the rest of the day, but she turned it down; she’s back to work, and I’ll be doing the same as soon as I’m done writing this. They’ve scheduled another visit a little over a week from now, at which point it should be easy to see the heartbeat; hopefully they’ll be able to confirm the number of kids she’s carrying as well. In the meantime, they gave us a gift box, courtesy of the practice, as a “Congratulations! You’re going to have a kid!” present.

Everything feels good, right now. Christina’s healthy, the kid is healthy, the kids, plural, might be healthy. I’m trying not to get my hopes up too much yet, but their natural inclination right now is to soar like a bird of prey. I am so excited to know what comes next!