Multiples or Singleton?

Once upon a time we did In Vitro and transferred 3 embryos. Oh wait, I already told you that long drawn out story. Well, after we got pregnant, they told us that around 7 weeks we could find out how many embryos had actually implanted. We could be having triplets for all we knew. We moved out to New Jersey when I was just about 4 1/2 weeks along so I got online and found some random doctor under my insurance list to go to. I made the appointment for an ultrasound on the day I would be exactly 7 weeks. When I was about 6 weeks and 5 days, Trey decided he didn't want to wait the extra two days so I called our doctor to see if we could come in that day. I called over and over and every time got a machine saying they were closed. It was a Tuesday so I didn't really believe the machine. Being impatient as we are, we drove over to the doctor's office to call their bluff. They were, indeed, closed. Dangit.

So we drove back to our apartment and I got online to check the insurance list for more potential doctors. I called the first one but they said we couldn't come in until the next day because our insurance would have to be verified. Click. I called the next one and the receptionist said we could come in right away, no insurance needed, just pay upfront. You know if you can get in to see a doctor that day they probably aren't your best option, but we were too anxious to care.

We pulled up to the South Jersey Women's Center and went through the first set of doors. Weird, we had to be buzzed in through the next set. Oh well, the place smells gross and not at all doctor-like but I go up to the front window and pay for the ultrasound. The receptionist hands me a cup to pee in. "Is there a cabinet to put it in once I'm done?" "No, just walk it back out and give it to me, " she says. Gross. Lucky for me there's no one else in the waiting room. Nobody wants to see someone else holding a cup of fresh, warm pee. I do my thing, hand her the cup, and sit down, waiting to be called back.

As Trey and I are sitting in the waiting room, we're looking around and noticing this isn't a normal doctor's office. There are posters all over with Obama's face on them, promoting change. There are pro-abortion decals on the receptionist's window and "free to choose" stickers all over the place. Have I been sheltered living in Utah for 8 years? Is this a normal doctor's office?

The nurse calls my name and we both get up to walk back together. The nurse stops Trey and says, "Sorry sir, you're not allowed back here." Oh okay, maybe they'll come get him when they're ready? She takes me to another empty waiting room and I start texting Trey..."What is this crazy place? I am alone back here, go ask the receptionist if you can come back..."

Meanwhile, Trey has made conversation with a random man in the waiting room, asking him questions like, "So is that your wife back there? Are you guys finding out what you're having?" Normal questions potential dads might ask each other in a normal waiting room. He gets my text and goes up to the front desk.

He asks the lady, "Don't I get to be back there with my wife?"
"No sir, I'm sorry."
"But in the movies, the guy is standing next to his wife and they get to see their baby on the screen for the first time together, right? So why can't I go back"
"Sir, due to the nature of what we do here, we have to respect the privacy of the women back there and so that's why men are not allowed back."
Trey notices the decals on the window and sees a piece of paper taped to the wall which is in memory of some doctor who was murdered, who was still doing 3rd trimester abortions.
"Wait," Trey says, "Is this an abortion place?" loud enough for the 4-5 people in the waiting room to hear him.
"Yes sir."
Oh dear, Trey takes his seat.

I've now been called back to my room and am completely second guessing this whole thing. I have the darkest, sickest feeling in my gut. I don't remember a smile on any of the faces I'd seen. The doctor and nurse come in, completely expressionless. The doctor is rude; he can't understand why I wouldn't be using my IVF dr. for this ultrasound. Clearly sir, the insurance list didn't make a side note to tell me what this place really was. Can you just do the ultrasound and let me go? So he does the ultrasound. I have to ask him how many are in there and he just says, "One. You're about 6-7 weeks. Good luck." And out they both go. Wow, I think I dressed in 15 seconds and was out just as quickly as they were.

I walked out to Trey and held up one finger to him. We both smiled and got the H-E-double hockey sticks outta there.

So creepy. Glad I'm still pregnant.