solid.
We had spent nearly two years trying to have a baby.
So when I finally saw two pink lines on a pregnancy test, I sat on the bathroom floor and cried.
Adam came running because he thought something was wrong.
Instead, I held up the test.
For one long second, he stared at it.
Then he dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around me.
“We did it,” he whispered.
I remember those words because for years afterward, I wondered how the man who had said them with tears in his eyes could become the man who left.
At eighteen weeks, we went in for an ultrasound.
The technician suddenly became very quiet.
She moved the wand across my stomach again.
Then again.
Finally, she smiled.
“Well,” she said, “I think you two should prepare yourselves.”
I immediately thought something was wrong.
“What is it?” I asked.
She
