A singleton after twins, is that still special?
Or to rephrase this question: Did I still feel I was carrying someone extraordinary when I only had one human being inside me after that stirring and action-packed twin pregnancy?
I asked myself this question – and was subsequently asked by several individuals – the moment the ultrasound report confirmed that there is only one creature inside me. I was hoping for another pair – or to stretch it further, I was silently wishing for triplets – because Jeff and I agreed early on that four is our magic numerical unit in terms of number of offsprings and I was only looking at two pregnancies.
No, Science was not involved in my twin pregnancy. It was just purely the work of nature, a miracle from the Heavens, an answered prayer and wish which I have made since I was a kid. The twin pregnancy – my first pregnancy – wasn’t planned.
I told Jeff I’m looking at making babies five years into the marriage. He didn’t agree. His argument: “I don’t want to be 65 and changing diapers”. As you may have read in my previous posts, my husband is 29 years older than me so we really don’t have the luxury of time to wait for five years before I get pregnant. But I was stubborn and stood my ground about not to get pregnant.
Not yet.
But God is a comedian. We were careful and sure that we’re not going to get pregnant that year but… a visit to the OBGYN revealed that I was carrying not just one but two mutants.
Jeff fainted.
The doctor’s assistant had to use a cardboard box as a fan to bring my husband back to his conscious state.
Being pregnant with Nick and Toni was an experience of a lifetime to say the least. The night of the doctor’s confirmation that I was carrying twins, I was restless. I can’t remember how many times I woke up and scream at Jeff’s ear that: “I’m pregnant. WITH TWINS!” My patient husband accommodated my overwhelmed self the entire morning and the day after that when we informed family and friends of the good news.
The second pregnancy was planned. Truth to be told, it was Jeff who wanted to get pregnant again. It’s not that I didn’t want to but I was still enjoying the 19-month-old versions of the twins then. But again, the age discussion cropped up and I prayed long and hard to Heavenly Father asking if it was the right time to get pregnant again.
I felt a certain kind of peaceful feeling in my heart after that prayer and went on to pray the nine-day novena to Saint Gerard Majella, patron saint to expecting mothers. I wasn’t even pregnant then. But since getting pregnant was our project before the year 2014 ended, I reckoned I should be spiritually and emotionally ready in the same way that I was mentally and physically up to the challenge of 40 long weeks of turning my body into a boarding house.
Before New Year 2015, our family of four then checked in at the China Hotel by Marriott in Guangzhou, our city of residence for a year. I brought along two pregnancy test kits. Jeff and I agreed that we will do the tests after the hors d’oeuvres at the executive lounge. I had two glasses of red wine.
Antoinette was still awake when we came back to the suite. She was just outside the toilet with her Dad when I peed on the sticks and waited five minutes for the lines to appear, giving us the verdict.
I went out of the toilet telling Jeff: “There are two lines. We’re pregnant!” Jeff’s smile was so sincere and genuine I couldn’t help but cry. Then came the question: “Do you think we’re having twins again?”
Unfortunately, the hospitals and clinics in China did not allow a transvaginal ultrasound until the second trimester. I did my own calculation and I was only about six or seven weeks in the family way. We decided to wait for the ultrasound until we fly to the Philippines on the last week of January, when we left the twins with my Mom so we can go on our annual couple trip.
I was on two Cebu Pacific flights with Antoinette (Guangzhou-Manila-Cebu) and I remember requesting for wheelchair assistance because I didn’t want to risk walking long distances with a toddler and a pregnant body. I’m terribly weak on my first trimester and losses my sense of balance. I didn’t want to risk tripping and falling down.
I learned about the singleton pregnancy on the fourth of February 2015. I called Jeff and he breathed a sigh of relief when I told him there’s only one zygote in my uterus. He said: “If you had twins again, we would have gone to the casino and gamble our savings!”
JJ – the baby in that singleton pregnancy – is very strong. He endured three weeks of being in a cruise ships exploring Singapore, Thailand, Vietnam, and Malaysia. He spent Chinese New Year in China where it was so freakishly quiet even the emergency room of three hospitals we visited (for Jeff’s ear infection after weeks of swimming in the cruise ship’s pools) were empty and staff less. He managed to held on to me after a heartbreaking experience of being a victim to robbers who stole my bag containing my passport when his Dad and I were spending a supposedly quiet night at a grill restaurant. He also spent long days and weeks of being away from his father and siblings when the twins were not allowed to enter China due to a visa issue. He kept me awake during those nights when I badly needed to focus on academic papers due for my graduate school studies.
And when our family decided to move to the US to give birth to him, JJ in my belly flew for 14 hours from Guangzhou to Los Angeles and joined our nomadic family in a 10-day road trip from California to Montana passing by Nevada, Utah, and Arizona.
In the US, JJ spent time in the classroom when I attended a blogging class for one whole month learning about ways on how to improve The Reading Ruffolos. Three weeks before he was scheduled to come out, a new semester of grad school started and JJ exchanged opinions and views on the three aspects of reading via the University of the Philippines Open University moodle site.
We saw five doctors in the course of the JJ pregnancy – and yes, that includes a perinatologist who made sure that JJ was healthy because I had gestational diabetes.
I waited for days for spontaneous labor to happen but by September 11, four days before the due date, nothing was happening. We were still hoping for developments though so I walked a lot, stayed under the warm shower for a while, and talked to JJ to come out. But he loved the comfort and warmth of my womb and refused to say “hello” to the world. As agreed with my OBGYNs, Dr. Jonas and Dr. Dehoop, I should check in at the maternity ward on the 14th of September to start induction.
Good Lord, nobody told me it will take that looong for the drugs to kick in. By night time, I was experiencing contractions, my very first time to feel them because I didn’t go into labor with the twins (they were premature babies born at 36 weeks old). I walked around the hallways, sat on the birthing ball, had one of the nurses give me a back massage, all to ease the pain. But none worked to make me feel at least a wee bit okay. By 10:00 p.m., I was screaming for an epidural.
It took 26 hours of labor, two hours of pushing, and around 40 minutes inside the operating room for a cesarian operation before we finally met Jeffrey Peter Lato Ruffolo Junior. He’s Jeffrey to his Dad, JJ to his siblings, and Pedro Burrito (along with several other names such as Pedro Beedoobeedoo and JJ Boo) to me.
He was born heavy and long. He was 8 lbs and 5 oz and was almost the height of two rulers. Unlike the twins where I had my Mom, siblings, and two nannies to help take care of my children, I was mostly alone – with support from Jeff of course – in taking care of JJ. It was hard and still is what with twin toddlers joining the mix.
A singleton after twins, is that still special?
Yes it is. JJ is a person of his own and I would never consider him second best because I had him after the hullabaloo of having twins. He is a happy baby, way wiser than his current age. He loves his Dad’s voice, he adores Nicholas showing him his toy cards, he is mesmerized by Antoinette’s stories and kisses, and he looks at me like I’m the most beautiful creature in this world.
JJ made our family extra crazy and he made this family extra special too.
He was named after his father, whom I love with all my heart.
He is my Pedro and like Peter, he is a rock, the rock who constantly smashes my selfish self and brings out the caring, nurturing, gentle person which I never thought existed.
I will always be grateful for his arrival, for making me realize that my heart can still love another human being. He taught me a lot about patience, time management, and tolerance.
