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then the baby on screen lifted a tiny arm.
    ‘It’s lifting an arm! It’s got an arm and fingers!’ shouted Adam excitedly. ‘Did you count them alright? Has he got ten fingers?’
    ‘No,’ said the sonographer.  
    ‘No? Is there a problem?’ said Adam.
    ‘Your baby has eight fingers and two thumbs,’ she grinned.
    ‘Oh my god, a baby, our baby , ’ I said in wonderment.
    ‘That baby is really inside her, right now?’ said Adam. In our shock we were coming across as two utter plonkers, but the sonographer was very kind and nodded.
    ‘Hello,’ said Adam running his finger along the tiny hand on the screen. ‘He’s so tiny, how big is he?’ The sonographer moved the scanner around my stomach.
    ‘I can’t see if your baby is a he or a she, but it’s about the size of a Mars bar.’  
    ‘What size?’ I said seriously.
    ‘A Mars bar,’ she repeated.
    ‘Is that normal? It being as big as a Mars bar?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘A king-size Mars? A normal Mars, a fun size? What’s normal?’
    ‘A normal Mars bar,’ grinned the sonographer.
    ‘It’s just I drink, drank a lot,’ I said. ‘Well, that was my diagnosis.’
    ‘What have you been diagnosed with?’
    ‘I haven’t been to a doctor. We added up our units on the BBC website and we found out we’re binge drinkers.’
    ‘Which is surprisingly little,’ said Adam. ‘And she stopped drinking completely when she found out she was pregnant a month ago.’
    ‘Your baby is healthy,’ smiled the sonographer. Adam and I stared at the screen, the minutes ticked by and we just stared, open-mouthed. There was a soft whirring sound as she printed off some pictures. She went on to say that I was actually twelve weeks pregnant, and my due date would be August 8th.
    ‘August the eighth, have we got anything on that day?’ said Adam quite seriously.
    ‘No, I think it’s free,’ I said still in a daze. ‘You’re sure it’s not a crossed signal from another scanning machine?’  
    ‘No, it’s your baby,’ said the sonographer. I’m surprised she didn’t suggest a visit from social services. How could these two morons bring up a child?  
    We were both crying, tears running down our cheeks. Adam grinned and leaned across and kissed me. I knew then we were going to have this baby.
    The sonographer gently wiped off my stomach with some paper towel.
    ‘You’re past the first trimester now… and out of the most dangerous bit of your pregnancy. You might like to consider telling people,’ she said and handed me printouts of the ultrasound.

      It was a different world when we came out of the hospital. The sun was shining, we were both smiling from ear to ear, and I suddenly felt this warm maternal feeling kicking in. I am pregnant; I’m going to have a baby, our baby.  
    ‘We have to tell people!’ I said.
    ‘Tomorrow,’ said Adam. ‘Let’s keep this between you and me for one night. Our secret.’  
    We came home and talked and talked, about if it was going to be a boy or a girl, what it would look like, and which room would be the nursery. He pulled out the ultra sound picture and leant down and kissed my stomach.
    ‘I can’t believe there’s a baby in here!’ he said.  
    ‘The second I saw it everything changed,’ I said. We felt this incredible bond of love and warmth and excitement.  
    ‘Of course now we have to unpack,’ said Adam looking round at the boxes in the living room.  
    ‘Let’s do it in the morning,’ I said.

    Thursday 26th January

    We invited Rosencrantz over this evening. I wanted to tell him face to face that at the age of twenty-two he will shortly have a baby brother or sister. He was the person I was most looking forward to telling, and I was excited all day in anticipation.
    Adam ordered pizza and we took the plastic off another chair and lit a fire. When Rosencrantz arrived he looked handsome, but a bit thin. He was wearing big timberland boots, jeans, and a checked shirt. His dark hair was now