It was two months since your discharge from hospital with just a few cuts and scrapes that would heal in their own time and the doctor was right about that, and because there was nothing that they could see to stop you and Richard from engaging in sexual activity, your third night home was spent on the fold-out sofabed in the guest room on the ground floor as you were finding it a bit difficult to climb the stairs unless Richard carried you, which he most happily did piggy-back style, because the last thing he wanted was to see further injuries.
Lately you had been feeling a little bit 'off', but you put it down to the stress of starting at a new school where you were both a teacher's aide and an administrative assistant, meaning that if you weren't needed in a classroom you were in the main office. But Richard was persistent in his goal of getting you to see the doctor to find out for sure what was going on because he in all honesty didn't really like seeing you that way and neither did your new co-workers. all of who treated you a lot better than the last.
You gave in to Richard's persistent requests that you go and see your doctor who took a couple of routine tubes of your blood to find out what was going on, believing it to be a greater deal more reliable when the outcome is concerned than urine samples. It was going to take at least 48 hours to send the samples off to the pathology clinic in the next county then it would have to be analysed, a report on the results made out for your doctor then sent back, during which time it was like walking on eggshells for you.
"There is nothing to be gained from predicting the worst Y/N" Richard said as he held you in his arms on the sofa with the television muted during the commercials the night before the results were due to come back, but he knew why you would be thinking that after what had gone on with your paternal aunt Christi, by the time she did something about it with her doctors, it had been considered by specialists as being too late to treat the cancer that had formed in her lungs and was spreading as she waited for the results to return.
It turned out that, ever the eternal optimist, Richard was right in his telling you that nothing was to be gained from predicting the worst at a time like that. Your doctor held the door to her consulting room open as you walked through, closing it behind you as she returned to her desk, an old style desk of oak, "The test results have come back and Y/N they say that you are pregnant". You were stunned into momentary silence at those words, remembering how soon after you were discharged from hospital, you and Richard had forgotten to use any protection.
Leaving the clinic, you sat in your car and let the news sink in: you were pregnant with the child of your boyfriend/fiance of eighteen months. It was a good thing your parents were both modern thinkers otherwise your father would force Richard to marry you before the baby was born to avoid a child being born outside of marriage. But before you could tell the two of them, you had to tell Richard, who was at home with Brody and a trainer, who was teaching Richard, who'd teach you, ways to keep Brody's mouthing under control as his teeth emerged.
The trainer was just leaving as you returned home and you found the dog trainer to be a man in his 60's, retired from the army and doing something more productive with his time at least in his eyes anyway. "Y/N" Richard said as you walked through the front door, Brody at your feet in seconds, yipping and running back and forward, causing you to laugh as you kneeled down to his level, patting and scratching his head and ears, your eyes never once leaving Richard's as he quietly asked what the results of the tests the doctor had ordered were.
"I did get the test results today Richard" you said as he helped you to your feet, keeping his arms around you, "What were the results honey; was it serious like you thought" he asked as his pale blue eyes remained completely fixed on yours, trying to find the answer without you speaking, "Well I guess it all depends on your definition of serious" you said as you took a deliberate pause before continuing, "Daddy". At that word Richard looked down at you as a smile broke out on his face, "Y/N" he stammered, "Are you" as you nodded in reply.
A few days or so later Richard, who was between seasons of his new show that was proving to be a bit of a runaway hit, was by your side as you went in for your first ultrasound which was for the purpose of determining how far along you were. To say the gel was cool wasn't even close; it was freezing cold as the doctor moved the transducer around your stomach to get the first picture of the baby, "Well I'd say about nine weeks" was her ultimate conclusion as Richard kept hold of your hand, smiling the entire time.
You headed to your parents' home straight from the prenatal clinic and as expected the two of them were every bit as happy as the two of you were about it, and not once did your dad bring up the subject of being married before the baby arrived, though it seemed as though his father (Richard's) was going to be another battle entirely, and one Richard said he would deal with on his own, the last thing on Earth he wanted was for you to be so stressed out by the impending battle that you ended up possibly losing the baby.
But Richard got the surprise of his life when his father said that "Richard and Y/N will marry when they want to" to his mother who was the one who had brought up the subject of the baby being born outside marriage, clearly still stuck in a time when something like that was not looked upon too favourably by anyone. Richard's mother was the same, saying that time had changed and children outside of marriage were far more accepted now than what they had been back in her mother-in-law's time, giving support where it was needed most rather than old-fashioned criticism.
