Do you know what an alliteration is? I do, except I can never remember that it's call an alliteration. Like I am always needing to make sure it's not an onomatopoeia. I can't keep'em straight!

But an example of an alliteration might be baby bump. Or baby boy bump. Or baby boy Brewer. Or even baby boy Brewer bump, which I took pictures of just before Thanksgiving!

My co-worker Mo and her husband Ryan are expecting their first baby toward the end of the month (hopefully closer to Christmas than New Year's). They wanted some pictures to remember their pregnancy but they wanted to keep them simple and low key. So I stopped by their house one afternoon and snapped a couple of photos - some of my favorite amateur photos to date!



I love the warm cozy feel of the fire and the sweaters and that fake fur thing. I can't wait to get that little baby on that fake fur thing and take a million pictures! It was also fun to watch Mo and Ryan. They are clearly madly in love and over the moon about their baby. I tried explaining this to Stephen with tears in my eyes. I got a blank and bewildered stare from him in return. I just really love babies!!!! Like really. And this little baby is going to be beautiful.

A few weeks ago I had the pleasure of taking maternity photos for a former coworker. She and her husband were visiting from Portland - the city where all women go to get knocked up - and asked if I would be so willing as to capture their baby bump. Of course I jumped at the opportunity. Pictures and babies! Well, kind of babies but you get it.

I've selected a few of my favorites to share here. This is actually a bit of a sneak peek for Carrie and Matt who returned to Portland the day after the shoot. I think the photos turned out quite lovely, although I may be a bit biased!



My favorite is the second from the bottom. I love that picture. I stole the pose from Pinterest (where else). Any other favorites? Tell me.

So on with the story of my pregnancy.

After we decided not to continue a partnership with our first practitioner, the shirtless poet, I called the Oregon Health and Science University because it has a midwifery program. I had wanted a natural birth and the idea of natural birth in a hospital setting appealed to me.

Except I couldn't ever figure out how to make an appointment with the midwifery program specifically and I just ended up seeing someone in the Center for Women's Health. But whatever, it was cool. I figured I'd eventually get myself a midwife.

On the day of our appointment, Stephen and I drove up the twisty road to OHSU. Have you ever been there? It's quite beautiful. All of Portland is, really.

Once there, I was totally unprepared for my second ultrasound. A transvaginal ultrasound! Not at all like in the movies. Who even knew that crazy thing existed? I didn't! And thanks to the way Henry's little pointy head was lodged in my pelvis, the transvaginal ultrasound would eventually become my new best friend - but I am getting ahead of myself.

Even though I was unprepared for the ultrasound, I was excited to see my little baby and so I was just going with it. We were looking at the fuzzy screen, Stephen was holding my hand, I was readying myself for the happy tears. And then the doctor said, Oh.

Oh. What's that? It looks like two sacs. Two sacs? Excuse me. I need to get the on-floor doctor.

Then she turned the fuzzy screen away from us and left the room. And yep. That's how we found out we were having twins, although not for another five minutes or so.

And believe me, those were some of the scariest five minutes of my life. Was there a mutant baby in me? Had I drank too many vodka tonics before I knew? Was it going to die? What was wrong with my baby?! Twins didn't even cross my mind.

When both doctors finally returned, the on-floor doctor quickly recognized that I was carrying twins.

Surprise! Two-for-one unexpected pregnancy special!

And then Stephen kept saying shit and laughing even though I tired to hush his cursing.

Lucky for us we had the right kind of twins. Two sacs, not touching, and two placentas. We were good to go and so they sent us on down the twisty road with some pamphlets and four pictures of Baby A and Baby B.

Here I am in August 2005 at about 10 weeks and then again in September at about 14 weeks. My expression in the first photo is deceiving. I was excited to be expecting twins. That fist trimester just really kicked my ass - I'll get to that next week.



So my parents of twins, how did you find out you were expecting two? Was it traumatic? Was it exciting? Was it a shock? Was it many things? I went through so many emotions. Shock. Disbelieve. Fear. Amazement. Gratitude. You name I probably felt it. Was it the same for you?

I was going to write something about breastfeeding but I changed my mind after reading this post by Sharon at NYC Taught Me. Don't worry - I'll get to breastfeeding in a few weeks. In the mean time, today is about growing babies!

Or maybe it's more about pregnancy. I don't really feel like discussing twins this week, although I have been making some observations about how children learn to read. But I am not in a comparison mood. Or even a twin mood.

What's on my mind is pregnancy and how much it sucked. It's no secret that I was not a fan of pregnancy. I agree that growing a baby is a pretty awesome experience but it was no easy feat in my case, especially with two in there. So I think I might spend a few weeks sharing stories from my pregnancy and doing so in chronological order.

But they won't all be about how pregnancy sucked or how traumatic it was for me as a high risk case. That's what they called me - high risk. I think this first story is actually kind of funny and it makes to smile to think about how young and naive Stephen and I were at 25.

~

When Stephen and I moved to Portland we were pretty much broke. Young and broke in the Big City. It was as romantic as it sounds. Just like in the movies. Really.

So after I missed my period and that little stick confirmed there was, in fact, a bun in my oven, I called Planned Parenthood to find a doctor offering services on a sliding scale. As luck would have it, there was a naturopathic doctor just down the street from our apartment!

On the evening of our appointment, Stephen and I arrived to find an empty and locked office. As we were standing around in the parking lot, wondering if we had the wrong location, a shirtless fellow on a bike screeched to stop beside us. And yep, he was the doctor.

He led us into the office, put on a shirt, and unsuccessfully tried to wipe away his sweaty BO stink. His practice was in an old home he had converted into an office. He asked me to pee in a cup, which he then placed, unmarked and without a lid, next to the kitchen sink, between some dirty dishes and a few empty beer bottles. It was very legitimate.

Next, he escorted us to the exam room were he unsuccessfully performed my first of many ultrasounds. Although he couldn't locate a heartbeat, he assured us that those at-home tests were pretty accurate. It was just too early in the process to attempt an ultrasound.

Of course, we made small talk throughout the entire visit and once the doctor learned that Stephen had just received a masters in creative writing, it no longer seemed to matter that we were there to confirm my pregnancy. Instead, the doctor just wanted to talk about his own attempts at creative writing and his recently self-published book of poems. He seriously spent 20 minutes talking to just Stephen about poetry - we were there for no more than 30.

Back in the reception area, he estimated that we conceived on the Fourth of July. He made an elaborate show with his whole body about the beauty of making a child under a sea of fireworks. Except we were scaling building tops in Southeast Portland with friends on the 4th. And we came home a little more than tipsy. No babies were made that night. Idiot.

He asked me to sway my arms back and forth in the air to further demonstrate the beauty of conception or some crap like that. And then he charged us fifty bucks, which was his full appointment price! A-hole!

The next morning I called the Oregon Health and Science University, which is where we eventually learned that we were expecting twins. But that's a whole other traumatic story. So I guess stay tuned for next week.

Four weeks pregnant in Oregon and looking good!

Does anyone else have a funny doctor story? Share it!