“So you mean, that’s one baby but viewed from three different angles?”
That was in response to the ultrasonographer showing me three sonograms one after another and telling me “There’s one baby … there’s another baby … and there’s another baby”. Gosh, to this day my response to her makes me doubt whether my medical credentials are correct. Before she showed us all three babies on one screen together, I just couldn’t fathom that we had managed to magic up triplets!
To think that just five minutes ago, I was laying on that couch, convinced that I had miscarried our baby, almost waiting with bated breath, trying to read the silence whilst the ultrasonographer was looking at the screen in different angles, desperately wanting her to just say there was a heartbeat so I could stop my brain from assuming the worst and so I could take a breath and just breathe…
The rest of the appointment was a blur. I was in such a daze I didn’t even think to ask how many placentas and amniotic sacs there were (see why I doubt that medical degree?!).
That day was bliss. It was as though we were floating, no… soaring, in a wonderful bubble and nothing could touch us. In my mind, those three babies were girls. I could see our three girls already… sitting on our sofa, with messy curly hair, in gorgeous onesies, propped up with cushions around them. Ricky was already looking into how to get three isofix seats into a car, always Mr Practical! Mum and Dad were elated that they wouldn’t be quibbling over who holds the baby (typical!)!! At no point that day did we feel that this wouldn’t be possible.
That bubble we were soaring in, burst. Abruptly. It was pointed out to us that carrying triplets came with a number of risks – to our babies and me. Reality hit and the thought that we may have to reduce the pregnancy made me feel sick inside.
This was confirmed at a Fetal Medicine appointment. We had DCTA (dichorionic triamniotic) triplets… which means – 3 babies, 2 placentas, 3 sacs. Two of our babies were sharing a placenta (so would be identical twins), and one baby had their own placenta. We were told that the make up of the pregnancy was high risk and that it was likely I would either miscarry or have an extremely premature delivery. It was advised that we should consider reducing the pregnancy to either twins or a single baby, for their health and for mine. We were completely broken – how could anyone expect us to choose which baby/babies to “save”. I know to some people a fetus is just a collection of cells, but to us they were babies. Every time they scanned me, we saw our babies (T1, T2 and T3 as they were fondly referred to), on top of one another, moving around, nudging one another, almost as though they were in bunk beds. They even looked like babies … they had tiny little arms, and legs. I wanted them all, and I was going to fight to try and keep them all.