The tests came, I took one upstairs right away telling Jenna that I was fetching washing and needed her to stay down here so I could carry the basket down without tripping over her. The excuse was true, but when I realised that it would leave me alone in the bathroom I took the tests up with me. Nothing. One control line but nothing else, after a minute. Since it said to leave for four minutes I came back down and called Emma for a chat about babysitting next week. It was a short chat, the phone said three minutes, so I went back up to stare at the test.
And there it was, a faint line. So I'm pregnant.
We waited until tonight to tell Jenna together and I can't believe how happy she was. That really brought it home, that it was real, a real baby that I could be delighted to hold. I can't wait to breastfeed a tiny again, to sling it (to get out the Diana!!) and to be a mother for the third time. Maybe another girl, getting out all the perfect little girl clothes I remember so fondly. Maybe a boy, a new experience again. By my best guess I should be due mid-October.
I still have a lot of worries. Chief amongst these is that Morgan might wean. I want to tandem nurse, would HATE the idea of her stopping so soon. I'm also worried about slinging two and sleeping with two. I can see more ways to work that though, more ways in which things will change in the short time eight months represents. More chance that Morgan will move towards being able to share me in those ways. But the idea of giving up comforting her with the milk my body provides and the skin to skin that goes with that, I can't even think about it.
Oh but a baby. A newborn and perfect baby, mine, ours.