TheBanyanTree: Life Stories 107

[Tobie Shapiro]

January 1, 20000000000000000000000000007


Dear Celebrants,

	We watched a movie last night.  Cold 
Comfort Farm.  It's a weird one.  But I enjoyed 
the British accents, all of them, and the one 
fellow who had to put on an American accent did 
so broadly and nasally and it came off almost 
authentic.  Feyna had gone to the city with her 
friends and wasn't going to be back until very 
late (or early).  Meyshe was still busy with his 
33 languages CD set.  He is saying hello, thank 
you and please in a lot of languages now.  It's 
hard to keep up with him.  I fell asleep at my 
book in bed and woke up at 2:45 to the sound of 
movement downstairs.  I just lay there though. 
It was Feyna and her friends returning from their 
celebrations.  This morning seems like any other 
morning except that I don't have to be anywhere 
and anywhere is closed anyway.

	Happy New Year.



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That's Easy

	When the ultrasound technician announced 
that she saw twins in me, and turned off the 
machine, it left me with no way to get a 
chorionic villus biopsy.  This was what the 
ultrasound was about, setting up for the 
procedure.  It is the only way to get an early 
reading of how the embryo is doing, genetically, 
a chromosome by chromosome accounting of the 
condition.  They would be able to tell if there 
were any genetic diseases or diagnose Down's 
Syndrome, and any number of congenital 
abnormalities that might dictate the elective 
cessation of the pregnancy.  If we waited for the 
amniocentesis, we would be twenty one weeks into 
the pregnancy, and wear and tear on my high risk 
condition would already have taken place. 
Starting over with another pregnancy would put me 
and the foetus at additional risk.  So the 
chorionic villus biopsy was really important.

	"We can't do the procedure for twins," 
said the technician.  "You'll have to wait for 
the amnio.  We can do that with twins."

	We both walked away from the experience a 
bit crest fallen.  What about modern medicine?  I 
was unwilling to let the topic go unquestioned, 
however, and called back to the clinic to ask 
about getting the early biopsy for twins.  It 
turned out, after careful interrogation that the 
chorionic villus biopsy could indeed be done for 
twins, but you just had to go to Philadelphia. 
So when the technician said that they couldn't do 
that for twins, she meant literally that they at 
that laboratory could not do the procedure.  She 
omitted that it could be done, but just not 
there.  An odd omission, I thought, and tried to 
decipher what ugly competition or internecine 
jealousies were in force.

	So we made plans to go to Philadelphia 
and follow this thing through.  We were 
encouraged by my gynecologist who thought it was 
important, even vital, to get this genetic 
information as early as possible.  I'd never been 
to Philadelphia.  It was a trip infused with both 
excitement and dread.  We would have to stay 
there for a couple of days, arriving the night 
before the biopsy and leaving the day after.  We 
made reservations in a decent hotel near the 
University clinic.

	On the way to Philadelphia, we had to 
transfer planes in Chicago.  Chicago is one of 
the world's busiest airports.  It was a swarm of 
activity, massive corridors coursing with streams 
of people going every direction.  What I required 
was a bathroom, nothing more elaborate.  We found 
a facility near an enormous intersection.  On my 
way in I noticed a man standing, waiting with two 
little boys.  They were not more than four and 
six.  The whole party was staring at the air, 
trying to amuse themselves, while Dad presided, 
adjusting collars, keeping the peace.  I pushed 
the door open.  Inside and off to the left of the 
entrance there was a baby changing area.  There 
was a woman standing at the counter with a girl 
of about eight beside her, helping.  In front of 
them, on the long counter, were three infants, 
their three little tushies exposed to the air, 
their six little legs wriggling wildly.  The 
woman had an assembly line working.  The daughter 
handed her mother one baby wipe after another, 
and she cleaned up the tuchases one after the 
other.  Then the girl delivered three fresh new 
diapers, one, two, three, and the mother handed 
the girl three soiled diapers, all rolled up into 
tight balls, which she tossed into the dirty 
diaper bin.  With one hand, Mom lifted two little 
legs at the ankles and slid the fresh diaper 
under the bottom, let the bottom down and moved 
on to the next: lift, slide, let down again. 
Lift, slide, let down again.  Now she had all 
three babies positioned over fresh clean diapers. 
She proceeded to fasten the diapers over the 
little bottoms one at a time.  After each was 
done, the daughter pulled on their pants and 
cinched them in.

	I was transfixed.  I'd given some thought 
to twins by this time, and to the fact that I had 
only two arms and there would be two whole 
babies.  One needed at least four arms to manage, 
and that was not going to be the case.  The 
enormity of the strategic difficulties had struck 
me and left me stunned.  While gaping at these 
triplets, it must have shown on my face.  I saw 
the mommy and the daughter staring at me in the 
mirror while they were finishing up.

	"Excuse me," I said, "I'm pregnant with 
twins, and I just couldn't help being interested 
in how this is all done."

	"Oh.  Twins," the woman said, "That's easy."


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Tobie Helene Shapiro
Berkeley, California   USA

tobie at shpilchas.net