Me: Dad, are you going to be in your office tomorrow? Clare and I will stop up after my doctor's appointment.
Dad: Why are you going to the doctor? A check up?
Dad: To find out if you're pregnant?
Dad: I shouldn't have asked you that. But you had a positive pregnancy test?
Yes, I did have a positive pregnancy test. I know from past experience, though, that this means nothing. So I made an appointment with my doctor for an early ultrasound. I was nervous. Not as nervous as right before I first found out I was pregnant with Clare. That day, sitting in the waiting room, I was the most nervous I've been in my life. This time, though was different. I glanced at Clare in the rearview mirror on my way to the appointment, smiling away in her car seat, and I knew that no matter what happened, all would be right with the world. Even if I never had another baby, I had my Clare and that was all that mattered.
We arrived at the clinic, and my doctor was thrilled to see Clare. She had delivered her, after all. "It's a mini Emily!" She exclaimed, going on to tell me all about her granddaughter. I tried to relax. To be patient. But I wanted her to get going. I wanted to know, one way or another, what I would be dealing with. Finally, she began. And there it was. The tiny flickering of life on the monitor. An impossibly small heart, beating away inside my body. A baby.
I felt relieved. And nauseous. Not excited, though, not really. I need to wait until the next six weeks are over to feel like we are out of danger.
And then I can begin looking forward to October, when our lives will change forever. Again.