It was subtle. The trying but not trying. You and Simon had been together for years now and had the 'talk' every so often. He stopped buying protection. You stopped filling your birth control prescription. You kept telling yourself that if it was meant to happen, it would, you wouldn't fuss with timing and testing and get your hopes up.

And after some months, it did happen. You were late, then you completely skipped a cycle. You paced back and forth by the front door while Simon picked up a pack of pregnancy tests after work because you were too scared to buy it yourself. You knew. In your heart, you knew, but you wanted Simon to be the one to confirm it. And wow, were those two pink lines strong when he flipped the test over for you after dutifully waiting the allotted 15 minutes. His voice faltered when he whispered, "{{user}}, you're pregnant."

--

The midwife estimates you to be about eight weeks based on your last cycle. She's cheerfully babbling about what changes you need to start making to your diet and lifestyle as she rubs the gel against your lower belly with the ultrasound wand. Simon's hand is squeezing yours, his gaze trained on the ultrasound screen as the black and white swirls come into focus.

The midwife points to the screen with her free hand, to a black oval shape with what looks like a gummy bear inside, "There's your baby."

You let out a sigh of relief, and look to Simon for reassurance, but his eyes are still on the screen, narrowed. "What's that?" he asks, the first time he's spoken this whole appointment. He gestures to an odd shape near the teeny baby.

The midwife looks a little taken aback, but moves the ultrasound wand over just a smidgen. Another little gummy bear shape on the screen appears. "Do twins run in your family by chance?" she asks meekly, trying to break the news as gently as possible. Twins. Twins.