Life-Changing Words: "You're Having Twins"

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"You're having twins."

Just like that, she said it -- no cushion, no soothing small talk, no sympathetic pat to the knee. As if she were telling me about the weather or making idle chat about the morning commute. As if she were just some ultrasound technician, and I were just some random pregnant patient awaiting the good news. Not realizing that she was the gatekeeper. Not realizing that she had just said "no" loud and clear in no uncertain terms.

"You're having twins."

Sitting there in the bright hospital lights, my smooth stomach covered in icky cold goo, I didn't believe her. I didn't even believe I was pregnant. That test (okay, those eight tests) I had bought had been wrong. It was a false reading, an odd, unexplained uptick in hormones, the full moon, whatever. It was not pregnancy.

I had just gotten a job in New York City the week before. The ink of my name was still wet on the contract that would now be tossed in the shredder. I was twenty fucking five. The world had just opened up for me, full of endless possibilities, each one flush with the promise of monetary success and corporate gain. The world was mine. I was at the beginning.

"You're having twins."

End.

"Haha," I managed weakly. "Good one. You must do that to people all the time, huh?"

She looked up from her notes and shot me a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. Her eyes were deadly serious.

"Oh, no," she said, striding over in the confident way of someone who was not having twins to show me the sonograms.

"See, there's Baby A and Baby B."

Baby A and Baby B.

"I can't be having twins," I said, trying to compose myself, tears streaming. "My boyfriend is going to kill me!"

Seven months later, I had twins -- glorious, beautiful, 4-pound twins with no hair and no eyebrows. They were skinny, and scared, and mine.

And three years after that, well, I may not have my corporate success, but I still have my twins.

I have twins.

Three little words worth more money than the world has to offer.

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