For those of you following along at home, my sister’s 1-in-a-million natural triplet pregnancy has metamorphosed into something a little less rare — a twin expectancy. Twin A and Twin B are both big and strong, with perfect 156bpm heart rates. Thus far one is a jumper while the other is rather placid and restful, and with any luck of camera angles, gender may be determined in four to six weeks.

The third baby, who wasn’t as strong, nor developing as well as his siblings, has dissolved — noted on Becky’s medical chart as a dissolutioned fetus. (Mom, do I have that right?) I’ve been calling him “Lou” in my head for the last day or so. There’s a sadness and some grief, but so much joy for the twins, who are healthy and well, and for their Mom, who has such a better prognosis for long-term health and a full-term delivery, and for their Dad, who can calm his panic down a degree or two.

As my best friend wrote this morning, “like the finest of blessings, sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet.”