At my last ultrasound, about two weeks before the girls were born, they were estimated to weigh 5 pounds, 4 ounces each. So when I gave birth at 36-1/2 weeks I was shocked when the doctor called out their weights at 4 pounds, 12 ounces and 4 pounds, 13 ounces. Unless they went on the motherlode of all fetus diets, the prenatal estimates of their weights were off. (Being my fetuses, the diet theory is not all that far-fetched. "What??? We're going to be BORN and have PHOTOS TAKEN? Keep that placenta the hell away from me!")
A few minutes later the nurse comforted me by announcing that each of their APGAR scores were 8. "Eight out of ten?" I asked. "You're saying my babies are only an EIGHT OUT OF TEN?"
"Oh, nobody ever gets a 10..." the nurse assured me, backing up a little.
I was a little drugged and must have thought the APGAR was some kind of hospital-sponsored beauty pageant and the judges were on crack. Because even in their ultrasound photos, my girls were a 10. "Don't they look like they have Angelina's lips?" I asked my husband as I gazed at one of their photos. (I actually said this. I'm not saying I'm proud of it...)
"They? I can only see one of their faces in this photo," my husband replied.
"THEY ARE IDENTICAL DUMB ASS."
I should probably mention here that I am not the type of person who went around showing the ultrasound photos except to family and close friends. (Okay, and a few strangers here and there on the street, and now to all 10 people who read my blog.) I always found it a bit creepy when people showed me their fetuses. What do you say? "Well, glad to see he has a nose! Not having a nose is tough on children these days..."
I would look at my ultrasound photos for hours, amazed that I was getting exactly what I wanted. Identical twin girls. Could I be any luckier? I actually tried not to draw too much attention to the fact this is what I wanted more than anything in the world, afraid the universe would take notice and take it away because I didn't deserve it. "THAT ASSHOLE IS GETTING EXACTLY WHAT SHE WANTS??? NEVER!" I still think that sometimes, when I read or hear about others who weren't as fortunate, giving birth to babies who didn't survive or babies not born at all. People for whom babies born at nearly 5 pounds with an 8 on the APGAR scale -- beauty pageant score or not -- would have been the best news in the world. And it makes you wonder, why me? So when my girls are whiny or crying or just plain high maintenance, I just try to be thankful they are here, period.
BTW, I am keenly aware that all mothers think their children are beautiful. It must be nature's way of making sure we don't abandon our young. I'm also aware my kids may look like this, but I'm too blinded by love to notice. If so, don't burst my bubble.