September 22

Tuesday's appointment was something of a rollercoaster.

At our morning ultrasound, we found that both babies had reasonable overall growth, but baby B (our former donor) had an abdominal circumference below the 5th percentile, while his head has begun to make up a greater percentage of his overall weight. All his vital signs were good, but Dr. Miller recommended (in consultation with our primary doctor, Lynn Simpson) that we go to the triage nurse at the Labor and Delivery Unit to have a Non-Stress Test (NST). NSTs monitor the fetal heart rates and check for irregularities. Because we neglected to ask about the ramifications of 'failing' the NST, we were pretty anxious on our way to Labor and Delivery.

At triage, we waited for hours while more pressing cases (a C-section, a woman in labor, etc..) were seen before us. Finally, we were ushered in to an exam room, where two monitors were strapped to C's belly. Unfortunately, every time the twins moved, the monitors had to be moved and the test began again. After an hour, the test results were in: the twins looked "beautiful." Heart rates were "excellent".

We met with Dr. Simpson at the end of our day, and she told us that the results of NST were reassuring (we preferred "beautiful"). There was some discrepancy between Miller and Simpson's predictions of our delivery date. Miller suggested that it was highly unlikely that we'll get past 32 weeks, whereas Simpson held out hope for a later birth. If at all possible, we'd like to make it to 34 weeks, when pre-term complications are much less likely.

While I returned to work (after a 5 hour hospital morning), C went home and went about trying to find out the results of a fetal MRI that she'd undergone over a week ago. The doctor in charge of reading the MRI results had gone to Europe for a week and had, for whatever reason, not been able to give us the results immediately upon her return. With all the other stuff that's been going on, not knowing the MRI results had become just another focal point of nervousness. When C called and finally got the results, the exchange went something like this:

Nurse: Ok, so I'll read from the chart.
C: Great, thank you.
N: "Baby A MRI results are reassuring. Fetus shows no visible signs of neurological impairment. Baby B MRI results are reassuring. Fetus shows no visible signs of neurological impairment."
C: Oh, thank god.
N: And at the bottom it says...um...
C: It says what?
N: This doesn't make sense...
C: Sorry, would you mind reading what it says, please?
N: Um..."There is evidence of cerebral hemorrhaging."
C: What?
N: That can't be right...umm...I'm going to call the doctor and call you back. Ok?
C: Ok.

(five minutes later)

N:Hello?
C:Yes?
N: The doctor wanted to apologize. That was a typo at the end of the chart. It should have said "NO cerebral hemorrhaging."
C: Oh. Ok. Thank you.

That's the worst typo we've ever heard of.

That night, C took me to dinner at Marlow & Sons in Brooklyn. She had also bought me a painting from a local store. It was my birthday. We celebrated and it was great.

Much love to our family and friends, who keep us in good humor and good health. More (less eventful?) next week. Thank you so much.