My sister is getting married in August to the boy next door (literally). The engaged couple has been together forever and I am so happy that they are finally able to be living in the same city and planning out a future together.
Being the Maid of Honor, I hate the word Matron, I get to plan the bridal shower. Planning is usually my forte – see blog name, but planning from 12 hours away and only arriving a day in advance isn’t easy.
The Friday of Labor Day weekend, Alex and I learned the devastating outcome of this first pregnancy.
After our 20 week ultrasound our doctor casually told us that in a couple of weeks we were scheduled to get another ultrasound to get more pictures of the heart. At this time I asked if the doctor wanted more pictures because something looked wrong with the heart or if the photos weren’t detailed enough – the nurse replied stating the latter.
After being reassured, Alex and I posted on Facebook the gender of our baby and started getting even more excited about our firstborn. I began the process of registering for gifts, Alex and I signed up for baby classes at the hospital, and we even started planning out the décor of the nursery. Three weeks later our dreams would be crushed.