Armed with the knowledge that Lumpy wasn’t a tumour, I knew what I had to do. It was time to call my parents.

If you know my mother you know she worries. I don’t think she would mind me telling the world this because it’s just fact. The sky is blue, mom worries. The grass is green, mom worries. Unicorns aren’t real (sorry) and my mother worries. About big things. About small things. About things that aren’t even things. And certainly… she’s going to worry about this mother fucking thing.

For the next two weeks my husband and I held our collective breaths. I had my initial doctor’s appointment on Wednesday, January 6, 2021. After her “hmm… that’s odd” my ultrasound was scheduled for the following Friday, January 15.

I’m one of those people who knows things. About me. About you. It just comes naturally and has for as long as I can remember. I get where you’re coming from and why — although, admittedly, I’ve honed the skill over the last 10 years.