It Takes Two to Make it Outta Sight

I sound just like my 2-year-old, or she sounds just like me.

"Hey, baby! Hey, baby!" she says, with her head to my stomach.

"Hey, Baby, hey, Baby," I say, almost inaudibly, my arms wrapped around myself.

I am 13 weeks pregnant, due on January 10th. The new baby is doing well: the appropriate size for its age, growing at a nice rate, apparently all the necessary parts in place, steady heartbeat. And the typical number of chromosomes in its cells.

I am the sort of person who needs to know as much as possible, to be as prepared as possible, to control as many variables as possible. I am the sort of woman who believes in the appropriateness of available prenatal testing for those who, like me, need or want to know.

Now I know, just like I knew last time, but earlier and differently, though with the same result:

I'm still pregnant, I'm still scared, but I'm also excited. I can't imagine what it will be like this time. It's a whole new world. Two children!