Goodbye, Nugget

My dog died tonight. I'm not even sure where to begin, or exactly what to say. I'm still pretty shocked and devastated. As you all know, we found out in early April that she was suffering from congestive heart failure. I knew her time was limited...but somehow I thought we had more time. They stabilized her on medication, and all seemed to be going well. On May 24, I noticed that Nugget's breathing was a bit more labored and she was coughing a tad. I took her in to the vet, and he confirmed that fluid was backing up in her lungs again. At that point, I knew that if we could not maintain her for even 6 weeks on medication, her time was likely limited.

The vet increased her Lasix and sent her home. Over the next days, she seemed much better. She was coughing less frequently, and her breathing seemed to ease up a bit. I brought her in for a re-check the following Wednesday, and the vet decided to keep her on the higher dose of Lasix until this week. She was due for a re-check again this week, but I had noticed her breathing was a bit more labored again and she was waking up in the morning with a cough. I was fairly certain that they would not be reducing her medication as hoped, and I wondered if she would need an even higher dose of medication or a trip back to the cardiologist.

I took Nugget to the vet around 1:30 today. He noted that she had a slight fever, and suggested that he keep her overnight (at his house) and monitor her. He felt that she likely had an infection and he wanted to keep track of her and put her on antibiotics and monitor her breathing and coughing. I gave him a whole list of information about my dog...how she steals food, that she is deaf, and I warned him about all the trouble she was likely to cause him. After giving him my laundry list, I reluctantly agreed to leave her and headed back home without my dog. I called up around 3:30 to confirm that she still had a fever. The doctor spoke to me and said he really thought she had a mild infection and he thought from her breathing and lack of coughing that she was stable and fine. Elliot went to pick her up right around 5:00 pm.

I was thrilled to have Nugget home again, but as she sat here, I became convinced she was not doing well. Her breathing seemed very labored, and I definitely thought it almost sounded like a rattle. She sounded as awful as she did that night I brought her to the emergency hospital. Around 6:30 or so, I told Elliot that I thought I should bring Nugget to the hospital. He thought I should give the antibiotics more time to work. We debated a bit, and then I decided that I'd feed her dinner early and give her pills a bit early and see if that improved her breathing.

I went to give her the chewable pill...and she refused it. I immediately knew she was quite sick. I got the rest of her pills and put them in her mouth - she refused to swallow them, and then she threw up. At this point, Elliot confessed to giving her some fatty meat from his lamb ribs, and I was so angry. I managed to get the meds in her, but she still refused to eat. Micah was being really cranky and making a ton of noise and agitating the dog, so I asked Elliot to take him out for a bit so that I could try and calm Nugget back down again.

Nugget just seemed lethargic and restless at the same time. She wouldn't sit still, but I kept thinking she was unsteady and seemed off. I called Elliot and told him I was going to the hospital, and he asked me to wait until he and Micah returned. They came back around 7:15 or so. Elliot was convinced that Nugget was doing better and I should wait a bit and see if she was feeling better after vomiting. I noticed that Nugget was not running from Micah, and she just sort of stayed in one place. I agreed to wait until Elliot put Micah to bed before I left for the hospital.

Elliot took Micah upstairs a few minutes after 8. Nugget had moved to the foot of the steps and sort of sprawled out, and Micah had been rolling around and kissing and hugging her just before bed. I kept thinking Nugget was giving me these "help me mommy" looks all night, and I was worried that she was not eating dinner and not trying to run from Micah. I planned on leaving immediately, but Elliot asked that I wait so he could send us off. I think I waited because I knew that it might be his only chance to say goodbye.

He came down around 8:15 or 8:20, and I had Nugget on a leash. She wouldn't walk herself outside, and I knew it was not a good sign. I picked her up, and she vomited again...but this time, there was some watered down blood. I just knew that the night wasn't going to end well. Elliot quickly grabbed a cloth diaper for me to take with us, and I carried Nugget to the car. I placed her on the seat next to me, and she didn't even try to move into a more comfortable position - she just stayed exactly as I placed her. I started the drive to the vet, and about 2 blocks into the drive, she vomited again - she didn't even try to move out of the vomit. I was watching the dog when I suddenly realized I'd veered across 3 lanes of traffic and nearly killed us both. I then stayed focused on the road and kept one hand on Nugget. She was very still and breathing very shallow and heavily. She was making choking sounds and she spit up a few more times. I just knew she would never make it to the hospital.

The hospital is about 3-4 miles away. We were about 1 mile or so into the drive when Nugget started to get quieter. The rattling sound stopped, and her breathing remained shallow but slowed. I started to cry because I knew she was dying. I kept telling her to hang in there and begged her not to die. I told her that I loved her. Her breathing continued to slow and there were long pauses between her breaths. She stopped blinking her eyes, and she twitched a few times. I then realized that the pauses between her breaths were just too long. And then I didn't feel any more breaths at all. At this point, I was a little more than halfway to the hospital. I stopped at a light, and I just knew she had died. I started to wail and sob uncontrollably. I could barely see in front of me. I took my hand off of Nugget and grabbed my cell phone to call Elliot. I couldn't even speak, I was just sobbing.

A few minutes later I arrived at the hospital. I was sobbing so loudly and I felt like I couldn't breathe. I walked around to the passenger side of the car and scooped Nugget up into my arms. I walked inside, wailing and sobbing. When they asked me what was wrong, I simply said "I think my dog just died." They took her from me and they took her in the back...and confirmed that Nugget died.

The rest is sort of a blur...talking about cremation or asking me if I wanted to bring her body back home. I asked if I could see her again and say goodbye. They brought her in to me, and she lay on the table, wrapped in a blanket. She was still warm and her fur was so soft. If I didn't know better, I could almost believe she was just sleeping. I kissed her goodbye and I stroked her fur for a few minutes. Someone came in to talk to me some more about my choices, and I'm not really sure what I said. Cremation is something I do not believe in (religious reasons), yet...I couldn't see how I would take her body home with me. I don't know where I would bury her (in our small backyard that we will be tearing apart soon for renovations, not to mention that I kind of hate the house and hope to sell it one day? At my parents' house? At my cousins' farm?) I kept imagining her rotting in the heat in the car overnight because I didn't know what to do with her. I couldn't exactly put her on the couch until morning, or carry her up to our bed, or keep her in the fridge until I figured out what to do either. And then I imagined Elliot with a shovel in the dark trying to dig out a grave. All of the options just seemed so awful to me - it was almost laughable. Part of me wanted to look into a pet cemetery...but I think the cost for maintaining a grave is a little crazy, too. I was just in such shock. I could have told them to hold on to her body until I decide, too, but I just didn't think it would get easier to decide later.

All I've been able to think about is that I really didn't take advantage of the time I had left with Nugget. I should have cuddled with her more, and paid more attention to her. I was content to just let her be - rest and sleep and not interact with her sometimes. Even tonight, when she kept looking at me with those sad eyes, I spent a lot of the night just watching her, letting her be by herself. I checked my computer, I made some phone calls, and I read books to Micah. I should have picked her up and held her, or curled up next to her on the floor to pet her. I hope she knew I was concerned and that she didn't feel alone.

The hardest part was walking away with her sitting there on that table, wrapped in the blanket. I just left my baby alone there. I felt horrible that, even though she died, her body was alone. It started to feel really morbid to stay with her and touch her, but I hated to just leave her like that. And yet, I did. My Nugget is gone, and right now, she is sitting alone at that animal hospital. And I'm sending her to be cremated, and that just seems horrible to me, too.

I have never really believed in a "heaven" - I like the thought, but it just isn't part of my belief system. Tonight, I hope I'm really wrong about that, and I hope that Nugget has found my Grammy up in a heaven somewhere - I know how much my Grammy loved her, and they would take great care of each other. So, I hope Nugget is happily snuggled in Grammy's lap, maybe stealing food from the snack bowl. But...I just miss her, and wish I had more time with her. I always thought she'd live to a ripe old age. I wanted Micah to spend more time with her, and I wanted her to continue to be our family hoover. I wanted Nugget to meet Twoey, and I wanted Twoey to develop a love for dogs because of Nugget's presence in the house. But, most of all, I wanted to keep my first baby with me as long as I could. Nugget has been with me for 12 years...from law school graduation, through my first legal job, through unemployment and starting my business, through bad relationships, through a good relationship, through marriage and through a baby. For many years, she was THE reason I got up in the morning and got myself out of bed. She is the first thing I think about when I wake up in the middle of the night, and she has been my focus for so long. I just feel like there is this big, gaping hole in my heart...and my life.

Another Reason I Loving Having Midwives

My midwives just called me today. When I tested posted for Group B Strep, I asked Angel (the midwife I was seeing) whether I could do oral antibiotics prior to labor instead of IV antibiotics. I told her I knew it was against conventional medical advice, but that I was fairly certain I would be turning down IV antibiotics at labor due to my phobia, and taking the oral antibiotics couldn't hurt and might be a good compromise. Last time, with Micah, I was on the oral antibiotics (due to the chronic Group B Strep UTIs) and turned down the IV antibiotics. Everything turned out fine. I even had a negative Group B Strep swab just prior to labor, which helped me feel that I was making a safe choice. The risk of transmission is actually fairly low in the absence of a fever, active infection, and labor shorter than 18 hours, so I feel comfortable with my choice. I was in labor with Micah for 6 hours, and we expect this labor will go quickly this time, too. Honestly, with a short labor, they may not even be able to get in an IV and deliver the antibiotics to me at the hospital before the baby is born. They also recommend 2-3 doses prior to the birth of the baby for full effectiveness, and that requires at least 8-10 hours.

Angel said she needed to discuss things with Chris and Sharon, the other midwives who treated me last time. Well, she called back this morning, and they are calling in the antibiotics! I have to sign a form indicating that I have been advised to take IV antibiotics and I am declining, but they are "working with me" in my refusal to take the recommended course of action. This was a wink, wink, nod, nod situation - they have to recommend what the AMA standard is, but they are doing their best to support my decision without endorsing it. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate that!

Naturally, I've done my research. There are a number of studies indicating that oral antibiotics, when taken prior to labor and maintained until delivery, are just as effective (and perhaps more so) than IV antibiotics. There are also studies indicating that if the antibiotics are stopped, they are not effective at all. They key is no lapse in the antibiotics allowing time for the Group B Strep to re-grow. There are also studies that indicate IV antibiotics for women with short labors fail to reduce the risk of transmission of the Group B strep because there is insufficient time to for the medicine to work before the baby passes through the birth canal. So, in my opinion, this really is the smartest option for me. That is a HUGE relief for me!! Can I get some credit for being rational in my crazy phobia?

Too much going on

I haven't been up for posting much lately - I have so much swirling around in my head, and I don't exactly know where to begin. I think I'm just a bit overwhelmed with all that is going on right now. I think I'm feeling a bit out of control...as my mom says, when man plans, G-d laughs. I think G-d is having quite a good chuckle at my expense this week.

Ironically, I spent most of this pregnancy expecting (and worrying about) pre-term labor. I'm officially 37 weeks pregnant right now, and we are "out of the woods" so to speak. Now, I think my biggest fear is that this baby will stay put forever and I'll be overdue! I've been doing everything I can to clean the house and be prepared. We finally dug all the junk out of our bedroom and the house is about as in-order as it will be. I arranged for child care for Micah when I go into labor, we've got our birth plan in place and I've got our schedule all written out.

Unfortunately, yesterday a wrench was thrown into my plans...and a whole new worry fell on my plate. My mom was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance yesterday afternoon, and they still do not know what is wrong. She was nauseated and sick and it just wouldn't stop. It came on suddenly - I was on the phone with her only an hour or two before making plans with her to come join us for dinner. I was extremely worried because it is not like my mom to call an ambulance - I knew she must have been horribly sick to go in an ambulance.

When she arrived at the hospital, they were concerned about a virus or an infection initially, so I've been unable to go visit her (she was actually placed in isolation). Since yesterday, they seem to have ruled out any infections, but they do not know exactly what is wrong. One theory is a drug interaction...she started a new medication a few weeks ago, and it might be causing all of this sickness. The only other theory on the table right now seems to be a problem called gastroparesis. I've looked into this online (and called a few doctor friends) and this does NOT appear to be good news. It is incurable, and the long-term prognosis is pretty scary. Most of the medications and options are only "temporary" fixes. I'm worried and scared because I *need* my mom to be around a very long time, and I want her to continue to enjoy a full and quality life.

So, on top of all the worries about my mom and her long-term well-being, I am having an immediate selfish reaction, too. I want my mom to be there with me when I give birth. She was such a huge help during labor last time, and I want her to be there right away to meet her newest granddaughter - and right now, she can't be there. I just know that I will go into labor when she is out of commission, and I'm a bit worried about doing all of this without her (and I also don't want her to miss out, either, because I know she wants to be a part of it all). I know that I will have Elliot there, but it really was a 2-person effort (okay, 3 counting the midwife) to get me through the last time. I also feel better knowing that after I deliver, my mom will be there with my Dad in the evenings to feed Micah and put him to bed.

Now I'm torn - I'm physically ready to have this baby, but I kind of want her to hang in a bit longer in the hope that my mom can recover and be there. Today was my 37 week appointment. I am over 70% effaced and 1-2 cm dilated. The baby has dropped (she did not say what station, but the baby is much lower and engaged). My belly is now measuring at 34 weeks (down 1 cm from last week). I've been spotting like crazy all day and having contractions. It kind of hurts for me to stand because of all the pressure. I also received some bad news at the appointment - I tested positive for Group B Strep :(. That means they would like to recommend that I take IV antibiotics during labor. I'm very torn - the studies about the benefits of IV antibiotics are mixed. It is the standard recommendation, and part of me knows that it would be better for the baby to take the antibiotics. But...I just don't know that I can do the IV because of my phobia. We are talking to the midwives to see if they will prescribe a course of oral antibiotics for me to start taking now. It is not the recommended course, but I would feel like it was a fair compromise. I tend to have short labors - the greatest risk for spreading infection is longer labor, and I barely had 6 hours from when my water broke to when Micah was born the last time around. Something else for me to worry about, right?

I'm still worried about how to deal with 2 children, and our child care situation for next year, and how we can balance all that is going on with our home renovations. We are supposed to be putting my condo on the market this week - I sure hope it sells quickly and that we are able to break ground quickly, move without incident, and get a 3 bedroom place before Twoey outgrows our bedroom. I'm having a hard time seeing how everything is going to fall into place.

I also have to take the dog back to the vet tomorrow. Her heart condition has been deteriorating. We increased her dosage of lasix in the hope that the congestion in her lungs would improve. While I've noticed some improvement, she has been waking in the mornings with a cough and she has been breathing heavily. I do not think the vet is going to be able to reduce her medication as we had hoped, and I see another visit to the cardiologist in our future. I wish I knew when we could fit all of this into our crazy life.

I guess on a more upbeat note, I thought I'd share a few stories about Micah. His new favorite pasttime is to put cereal (or fruit) on his eyes. He just takes the food and mushes it in there, and then he laughs! I've been working on teaching him some new "phrases." I've been teaching him to respond "me" (and point to himself) when I ask him "Who is cute?" He seems to get the concept...but our exchange goes more like this...."Micah, who is cute?" "Neee." Yes, Micah says "nee" instead of "me." I've noticed some other signs of growth - he actually lets me wipe his nose without any complaints anymore! In fact, he'll show me he needs his nose wiped, or I can say "Micah, come here and let mommy wipe your nose" and he'll walk right over and let me do what I need to do. I've also been amazed by the way he handles a sippy cup - he'll spin it around until he finds the right angle (right side up). I love watching him twirl the cup around in a circle until he find the perfect position! Another funny story...Elliot was dressing Micah the other morning. I had given him the clothes and walked into the kitchen to clean up after breakfast. I glanced over at the two of them...and had to point out to Elliot that I usually prefer to take the pajamas OFF before dressing him! We had a good laugh over that. Finally, our latest challenge has been tempertantrums. Micah is definitely entering the terrible twos. We are finding meal time particularly difficult. He will throw a fit and chuck his food on the floor. I cannot decide if he throws a fit because we let him get too hungry, or if it is because he has very specific wants and we just keep guessing wrong. Either way, it has made meal time a bit of a challenge. Sometimes, it is as simple as giving him the WHOLE pancake instead of cutting it up. Other times, we have to just give up and give him fruit. I hope things get easier.

We have had a few incidents with "aggressive behavior" from Micah. Apparently, he bit another child at daycare on Friday. I think some of his behavior has a lot to do with his lack of language - he gets frustrated and does not know how to express it. I am working on his language and trying to teach him appropriate behaviors. I hope that we can get through this phase soon. If anyone has any suggestions, I'm happy to listen! I'm also a bit concerned about some of these behaviors because of our family history with ADD. I think later this summer I am going to take Micah to get evaluated. I do not think we'll get any type of diagnosis at such a young age, but I'm hoping maybe the doctor can give me some good techniques for managing his behavior and pointing him in a better direction.

Okay - I guess that is all I've got right now. Keep your fingers crossed that everything falls into place and works out better than I have planned. Also, a little good news about my mom tomorrow would be great, too.

Crazy Day

Wow...I'm exhausted. Micah woke up on the late side yesterday, and we did a mad dash to get hi to his art class before daycare...only to find out they canceled the class and forgot to tell us. We dropped him at daycare and came home. We got a bit of work done, but then we ran out to go to my condo to work on getting it ready for sale next week. We spent about an hour cleaning things out, then went to my my midwife appointment. The baby was doing well - I'm still 1 cm dilated and 50% effaced (or so). I was hoping for some more progress, but no such luck! I think she will be staying put for a little while longer. My belly was measuring around 35 weeks (I never got bigger than that with Micah). They did my group B strep test...let's hope it comes back negative!

After the appointment, we came home. I finished putting a few things away, got a bit more work done, and then the architect and the builder came by. We talked about the new bid, finalized a few other pieces of information - and now we wait for a formal written bid (hopefully to come in on Monday). If the bid comes back as promised, we are all set to move forward and get these renovations on the road! Right after our meeting, Elliot ran out to pick Micah up from daycare. He did not nap at all yesterday, so cranky does not even begin to describe Micah's mood last night. He was really difficult all through dinner, and we finally gave in and just put Sesame Street on for an hour before taking him upstairs for a bath and bedtime.

Micah woke a bit on the early side this morning (just before 8). He was still pretty cranky through breakfast, unfortunately. The babysitter, Christin, arrived at 9:00, and she helped keep him calm and get him dressed. My father showed up around 9:45 - it was the first day of the new semester of his Kidville classes, and unfortunately, I screwed up and scheduled an ultrasound during class. I wanted to go with Micah and Christin to show her the ropes, but I just couldn't be in two places at once. My father volunteered to come down and go in with them so she would not have to do it on her own. Apparently, they had a great time - my father left the first class for a bit to run errands, but he was a huge help getting them down there and all settled into class.

While they were in class, Elliot and I went for the ultrasound. Twoey looked great...she is still head down. She was measuring at about 35 weeks (same as Micah at this point). They guestimated her weight at around 5 lbs 15 ozs (which I think is a bit smaller than they predicted for Micah at this point). I think she is going to be small like Micah. They confirmed a whole lot of hair again, too, so I think we are going to have another baby with crazy hair! She passed her biophysical profile with flying covers, scoring a perfect 8/8.

We made it home around 11:30. We scheduled Micah for back-to-back classes, so they did not come home until about 12:30. My father left and went about his day, and Christin fed Micah lunch. Our organizer, Leslie, showed up here around 12:00 - I immediately took her upstairs to help me finish digging out the bedroom. In the corner of the bedroom, I've had one last box that I never unpacked after we moved in, and a pile of a few other things. Since I gave up my office when we moved here, I don't really have a place to store all of my papers and business items. Unfortunately, they've been getting a bit unwieldy. We sorted the box, sorted all of my papers, divided everything up for filing, and threw out several bags of unnecessary junk. I now have a space in the room to put a small dresser for Twoey's clothing until we move into our bigger place. I feel SOOO much better to have unloaded a bit more (and Leslie also attacked Elliot's half of the room and unloaded a bunch of his junk, too). So, things are looking up - we've significantly de-cluttered, which will make packing up to move MUCH easier (and I don't have to feel like keeping the baby in our bedroom is a health hazard!).

Micah went down for his nap a little after 1:00 pm. While I was working with Leslie, Christin brought her friend Megan over (who previously babysat for us). Megan is thinking about changing her job, and might be interested in working for us as Micah and Twoey's nanny beginning in September!! I'm so excited - if this works out, it really will be a great solution for us. She is responsible, good with children, and she is willing to work for a very reasonable amount of money since she is only 20 and has never been a nanny before (although she has TONS of babysitting experience). She would like to be a party planner when she "grows up" and my father has a lot of party planning connections (he owns a stationery business and does a lot of work in that field). We think we can hire her and help get her some internships/other part-time work in the party planning industry. Our hope is that she'll work for us for two years full time (and maybe another year or so part-time), and that as our need decreases, we can slowly help her take off on the career of her dreams. Let's see if this works out!

At 3:00, Leslie left. I was amazed at how much we accomplished in three hours. My mom normally comes on Thursday nights for date night, but she has had a rough week at work (and an unexpected trip to the dentist), so I told her she could take the night for herself if she needed it. She apologized, but decided to head home after work. I'm just so lucky she gives us as much time as she does! Since Christin is desperate for more hours and to earn more money, I asked her if she would mind staying later tonight. She happily agreed! When Micah woke up from his nap, she asked if she could take him over to her mom's (Laura's) house. Laura babysits my friend Niki and Eric's kids on Thursdays (that is how I found Christin last year), and Micah loves playing with them and loves going to their house. I said it was fine, and off they went! They played in the baby pool, and played with trains. Christin called and asked if they could stay at Laura's house through dinner, and I said that was fine. When they took off, Elliot and I decided to head back to my condo to finish emptying it and do all the touch-up painting that needed to be done. By the way, I love those Mr. Clean Magic Erasers - they did a great job removing all kinds of scuffs and issues. We stayed there for about 2 1/2 hours, decided not to do anything more for date night, then made it back here before Micah's bedtime. We walked through the door, and Micah was sitting quietly, cuddling with Christin, and all dressed in his pajamas. We got to spend some time with him and put him to bed, so it was a nice evening. Christin took off after a VERY long day, but they both seemed to have a great time (and we managed to accomplish a lot today).

I can't believe we still have another day left this week! I'm looking forward to the long weekend. We are going out to dinner on Saturday night with all of my cousins. We are thinking of having a few people over on Monday afternoon/evening for a Memorial Day....gathering. Very small and low-key, but hopefully it will be fun. We want to keep it small and simple (I am not up for working too hard...and I want to be able to easily cancel if I go into labor).

So...happy Memorial Day Weekend!!

It's French Open Time!!

I am an avid tennis fan...and I'm so excited to be watching the French Open again! Personally, I'm in love with Rafael Nadal, and I truly despise Roger Federer. I'm so glad to see Rafa back in top form and ready to reclaim his title (that Federer won last year by default). I also still love watching Andy Roddick...but clay just isn't his surface. As for the women...I hate Justine Henin, and I'm definitely rooting for the Williams sisters.

This afternoon (after his nap), Micah came downstairs to hang out with me for a bit - he took one look at the tennis on the tv and broke out into a huge grin. He started pointed at the screen and clapping, and saying...."bah-ball." Yes, according to Micah, all balls, and all games played with a ball, are, by definition, basketball. Okay, we'll have to work on that part, but he did love watching tennis. He sat snuggled up with me and we watched Roddick play today. He screamed "Whoa" when they hit the ball, and "boom" when the ball hit the net. He clapped when they scored points, and he screamed with joy when the players got into nice long rallies. Yes, I think I'm grooming a tennis fan, much to his daddy's chagrin. His daddy was so worried that he removed Micah from the tennis and took him grocery shopping.

This morning, the babysitter came to help take care of Micah. She arrived at 9:00 this morning, but could only stay until 1:00. She fed him breakfast and got him dressed, took him to play at the park, fed him lunch then put him down for a nap. During that time, I managed to pack my hospital bag, shovel out the bedroom from a bunch of junk, and make Elliot clean up his junk, too. It feels so much better to have made a dent in the mess. I also got a bunch of work done. I really like having the extra help around right now!

I'm still having pretty constant contractions. The more I do, the worse they get. I'm very interested to find out whether I've made any progress since last week...but I doubt it. We shall see - my appointment is at 1:45 tomorrow.

Yesterday, I took my dog to the vet - her breathing was very labored again, and her hacking cough had returned. I was fairly certain that fluid was backing up in her lungs again. The doctor examined her and agreed. The good news was that there was only *some* fluid in her lungs. He decided to double her dosage of Lasix for the next two weeks. If she does well, then he will try to reduce the dosage again and see if she will maintain that way. I am supposed to take her back for another re-check either Wednesday or Friday.

Micah has been talking up a storm lately. He is starting to put words together (like "Hi there"). He knows a bunch of body parts (head, foot, belly, tongue, mouth, nose, eyes). He is saying the word "more" now (he used to just sign it), and he definitely says "hi" and "bye-bye" all the time. He is recognizing animals more and more, and he knows a bunch of the sounds animals make - his favorites are "quack" and "moo." He loves to watch the birdies, and he is still a huge kissy-monster. He climbs all over the furniture and runs laps around the house.

I have to say, I am going to miss this time with Micah as my only child. I'm so excited to meet Twoey and get to know her, and I'm excited to see Micah become a big brother. But, at the same time, I sometimes wish I had more time with just Micah as my only focus. I love how we snuggle, and I love our time alone together in the mornings. I adore him - I truly think he is the cutest, sweetest thing that ever walked the earth, and I am just filled with love for him. I know I will love Twoey every bit as much as Micah, and I know there will be plenty of room in my life for both of them. But, this time with just Micah is special, and in a way, I know it will be a loss for both of us - it will never again be just the two of us, and I guess I'm sorry that I can't give more of this special time to him.

I saw this posted online this week, and it really struck me...I think it articulates many of my fears about expanding our family, and perhaps my hope for how it will be:

Walk along holding your 4-year-old hand, basking in the glow of our magical relationship. Suddenly I feel a kick from within, as if to remind me that our time alone is limited. And I wonder: how could I ever love another child as I love you?

Then he is born, and I watch you. I watch the pain you feel at having to share me as you’ve never shared me before.

I hear you telling me in your own way, “Please love only me.” And I hear myself telling you in mine, “I can’t,” knowing, in fact, that I never can again.

You cry. I cry with you. I almost see our new baby as an intruder on the precious relationship we once shared. A relationship we can never quite have again.

But then, barely noticing, I find myself attached to that new being, and feeling almost guilty. I’m afraid to let you see me enjoying him—as though I am betraying you.

But then I notice your resentment change, first to curiosity, then to protectiveness, finally to genuine affection.

More days pass, and we are settling into a new routine. The memory of days with just the two of us is fading fast.

But something else is replacing those wonderful times we shared, just we two. There are new times – only now, we are three. I watch the love between you grow, the way you look at each other, touch each other.

I watch how he adores you — as I have for so long. I see how excited you are by each of his new accomplishments. And I begin to realize that I haven’t taken something from you, I’ve given something to you. I notice that I am no longer afraid to share my love openly with both of you. I find that my love for each of you is as different as you are, but equally strong. And my question is finally answered, to my amazement. Yes, I can love another child as much as I love you—only differently.

And although I realize that you may have to share my time, I now know you’ll never share my love. There’s enough of that for both of you – you each have your own supply.

I love you—-both. And I thank you both for blessing my life.