Two years ago, we got a major surprise and boarded an emotional rollercoaster.
Not only was I pregnant again, less than a year after having Madison. We'd only known that for a week or so and were still getting used to the idea of having two under two.
No, that wasn't the biggest surprise we received before my daughter's first birthday.
When I saw my gynaecologist in early July to confirm the positive test, she knew that I was sketchy on dates, and after her exam she thought I might be further along than initially calculated. She decided I'd get an ultrasound the next day, so we could work with an accurate date. I was horribly sick and exhausted, and was thrilled to know that I might have less first trimester time left than I'd originally guessed
Adam was away for work. When I called him to let him know that I'd be having an ultrasound earlier than we thought, he offered to try and cut his trip short. But after we talked for a while, we decided that was silly. My friend was coming to watch Madison, and this was just the dating ultrasound. He was at a new job, and although it would be possible to reschedule his meetings and change his flight, I told him to stay.
Now, we'd gotten bad news at ultrasounds before. Before Madison, I had a missed miscarriage that was discovered via ultrasound late in the first trimester. I knew that bad news was a possibility. We hadn't shared the news with anyone yet and were waiting for the due date, so I didn't have anyone to accompany me and hold my hand in case things weren't ok. But again, we weren't worried. We figured it was a "whatever will be, will be" situation. We were actually pretty proud of our attitude. We had plans to talk that night.