The scan was very exciting, and initially terrifying.
"Mrs Hobbo?" said the nurse who called me in from the waiting room. (I've shortened Pete's surname for the purposes of this blog. I didn't actually marry a man called Hobbo.)
"Yes," I said.
"Ah, hello. Now then, it says here you're having twins?"
The nurse looked back down at her clipboard. "Ah, ha ha, no, probably some kind of misunderstanding."
She led me into the doctor's room. "Ah, Mrs Hobbo," he said.
"Hello," I replied.
"Now then. I see you're having twins?"
"WHAT???" I said. "First I've heard of it. You tell me, DOCTOR."
"Ah, ha ha, no, probably some kind of paperwork error," said the doctor.
Really looking forward to going through the most dangerous, painful and important medical procedure of my life with these people at my side.
Anyway, it turns out there is in fact just the one baby in there. He or she (no, we don't know and yes, we're pretending not to care) is doing fine.
The doctor gave us a due date of 24th June. Though judging by the twins thing this baby could be born any time between Easter and the Olympics.