Are you having another?

My little girl is turning three this year. How is this possible? How have three years passed so quickly? I love this little girl more than I knew I could love anyone or anything. As we come up to three years of parenting, we are of course getting the never ending question. "Are you having another?"

Today in Microfashion...

The short answer is: we have no idea.

The long answer is: we have thought about it and gone back and forth about whether we should or not and haven't been able to decide. If I'm being truly honest, I would say I would love to have another child for Alexia's sake. My relationship with my sister is something that I hope Alexia will someday get to experience. There is nothing like having someone who can fully appreciate the idiosyncrasies of your parents, the memories of your childhood, and the jokes that you created back when you were a kid. My heart breaks to think that Alexia may never have that.

Directing traffic at the local baseball game

On the other hand, we have gotten into a groove with Alexia. The first 2 years of her life were really hard for us. She was the perfect little baby with a great attitude and she was very adaptable, but LoLo and I had a hard time defining our roles as parents and finding ourselves on the same page as to what it meant to each of us to be a parent. We fought over who slept more, who washed more dishes, who cooked more food, who changed more diapers, and basically everything. LoLo worked every other weekend which left me alone with her a lot and I started to feel overwhelmed. I felt like I had lost my sense of who I was as a person outside of being Alexia's mom. I traveled a lot and it was difficult for LoLo who suddenly had to take care of a tiny human alone while I seemingly was living it up in other countries (for the record, I really wasn't... my work is not easy when I am abroad and it was especially not easy when I was pumping and traveling everywhere!). We found ourselves thinking of Alexia's needs first, our own needs second, and the other's needs barely at all. I wasn't taking care of LoLo and he wasn't taking care of me.

Me and LoLo on a much needed trip to Miami

LoLo has since gotten a new job that is more fulfilling to him and is much more manageable for our family. He has weekends and holidays off and I no longer feel that burden of being solely responsible for Alexia on the two days off I have after working a long week. We've worked really hard together to start thinking of how to take care of each other so that we could better take care of Alexia. LoLo has recognized my need for sleep and alone time and I have recognized his need to have his video game time. He's gotten so good at anticipating when I might need a little something extra. Just a few weeks ago, LoLo knew I was going to be leading a really intense training for two straight days. The night of the first day of training, I came home to dinner ready and him handing me a drink as soon as I walked in the door. Two years ago, that never would have happened.

With my crazy work schedule and all of the travel I do, it just seems more realistic to have only one. Imagining LoLo having to handle two small children while I am far away, seems like such a challenge. Tonight though, I read an article about how you end up settling into your new routine with two children the same way you settled into a routine with one child. I have no doubt that we could do it, but do we want to? Should we? Who knows. We change our minds every day and maybe at some point we will finally make up our minds. In the meantime though, we are enjoying our time with Alexia and focusing on being the best parents we can to her.

Mom, Alone

When I found out I was pregnant, I swore to myself that I wouldn't change. I swore that I would be the same ole Erin, just with a baby. I know, I know, you've probably heard that story before. You've heard every first time mother who says that she's going to be the only mother in the world who is the same person after she has the baby as she was before.

Last week, LoLo took Alexia to New York for five days so I spent five long days and four long nights alone in our house (well, except for my little buddy, Bronx). In the days leading up to their trip, I was nervous. Not so much about them, but about myself.

See, after 20 months of being a mother, I couldn't remember who I was for the 31 years that I wasn't one. I truly couldn't remember who I was before early wake-ups and feeding someone else and schedules and adorable little girl clothes and Curious George (or Gigi as Alexia calls him).

The first day, Saturday, my mom and I went to Boston to a Red Sox game. Not only was it a great way to keep my mind off missing LoLo and Alexia, it was a great way to be reminded of something I've always loved.

The next day,  I slept late, took myself to lunch and went to the supermarket and got some of my favorite foods including fancy cheese that I would never buy otherwise. I spent time with my parents and grandparents and actually ate a meal at family dinner without interruptions or breaking my food into tiny pieces for someone else to nibble on.

By Tuesday night, although I was completely ready to see my little family, I was starting to remember who I was. I remembered that I don't cook and had cheese and crackers for dinner (and it was glorious!). I remembered that I love getting under a comfy blanket and yelling at the TV during Jeopardy (something I hadn't done since I was pregnant). I even remembered that I love eating ice cream.

I don't know anyone who hasn't been changed by motherhood. And I'll be the first to admit that I was totally naive to think I would just be "Erin with a baby." But although being Alexia's mom is my most important and most prominent role right now, it was nice to be reminded that I was a person before I had her and that person hasn't been lost. Sometimes that seems to get buried under the millions of kisses and pictures of my little girl and meals and baths and hugs and bedtimes and wake-ups and tears and dirty diapers. But those five days reminded me that it's important to let that side of me out every once in a while...because that person I was before I was Alexia's mom wasn't so bad.

Aaaaaaand an Alexia pic for good measure.

My Dirty Laundry

I never thought I'd be writing a post about my literal dirty laundry, but here goes.

As much as I appear to have my life together at work and in other aspects of my life, I struggle with staying organized and having a clean home. There are times when I dread having people over because I know that even having them stop by means hours of cleaning that has to be done first so that I can feel comfortable showing them our home.

For the past year or so, I've had a pile of clothes mounting in the corner of our bedroom. Within the pile were bags of clean clothes, a large plastic container filled with shoes, mostly clean clothes, and a laundry basket full of clean clothes from (get ready to be shocked) two weeks after Alexia was born. Yes, I said a laundry basket full of clean clothes from approximately 13 months ago.

This mess has been a weight on me. Instead of our bedroom being a calming place to rest, it was a constant reminder of just how inadequate I am. It became the monkey on my back and left me feeling like there was no point in tackling it because it was just too big. I remember two times when I was looking for something in the pile, throwing things left and right, and I felt like the pile was closing in on me and I started feeling really anxious.

Once, my sister was taking pictures of me and Alexia in my bedroom. She ended up blurring the background so that the mess wasn't as noticeable. We laughed about it, but I felt awful, not to mention embarrassed.

The pile and Alexia in their infancy

I attacked the pile last weekend. I went through it fiercely. For eight hours, I sorted everything into small piles to hang, throw in the laundry, or donate. I came out with 4 (!!) bags of clothes to donate to Goodwill, 2 bags of garbage, and a really clean room.

But those aren't the only things I came out with. I came out with pride and a sense of accomplishment. I came out with a huge feeling of relief. A half hour after I was done, I had a couple of tears rolling down my face because the weight had finally been lifted.

The pile wasn't just a pile of clothes for me. It was something that took on a life of its own. It was overwhelming, it was painful, and it was persistent. Every time I looked at it, I heard it mocking me, telling me that I couldn't even manage to keep my room clean. I must be a horrible wife. I must be a horrible mom. 

As moms, and as humans in general, we all have things like this in our lives. A pile of clothes, a degree that remains unfinished, a project that lies half done, a choice we have to make. We can't let these things define us, but they are worth taking on if it means that there will be a sense of relief.

In my first year as a mom, I've struggled to find a good balance between spending time with Alexia, spending time with my family, taking care of LoLo, taking care of Bronx, taking care of the house, and somehow taking care of myself too. Over this year though, I've learned a lot about celebrating small victories. A clean bedroom, the moment Alexia puts her toys in the bucket when asked to clean up, LoLo thanking me for being a good wife. Those little victories are what life is all about.

The first year

August 17th marked one year of Alexia. 365 days of firsts, tears (both hers and mine), laughs, smiles, pictures, outfits, diapers, milk, and other joys. For her birthday, I bought her a picture book called "Forever" and wrote her a note inside of it. I will write her a letter here as well to mark her first year.

All pics by my sister

My dearest Alexia, 

There are so many memories from this first year. The first time I saw you and thought "That beautiful baby can't be mine!" The first couple of weeks when I dreaded feeding you because it hurt too much. Using a small syringe to get some milk into your tiny body. Falling asleep by mistake with you laying on my chest. Using a football hold to feed you because that was the only hold they taught me in the hospital. Flying on the plane with you when you were only 12 weeks old. You sleeping 20 hours a day and eating at least 12 times a day. The little bassinet that you used to sleep in next to our bed so that I could just lay you down after you ate at night. Missing you when you finally moved into your crib in your own room. The fact that you used to nap in your snowsuit.

It feels like within just the last month you've grown so much and I just wasn't prepared. A week and a half before your birthday, you started really walking. You had taken a couple of steps before that, but on Wednesday, August 6th, you started consistently walking. You still stumble here and there and when you get tired, it's like you're drunk. You fall and crash into things and wobble like a drunk person.

You love to pretend you're on the phone. You take my phone or Grampa's phone or the baby monitor and put it on your shoulder and say "hiiiiiii". You love to wave to anyone and everyone. In the morning, you love to wave to Bronx in his cage.

I love the moment when you first see me in the morning when I go into your room to get you. Your face lights up and you get so happy. How can I be in a bad mood when your smiling face greets me?
 You are smiley and happy and love to laugh. Even when you don't feel good you are laughing and smiling and playing. You love to sing and dance. When we play mambo music, you dance almost immediately. It's clear you've got a lot of Latin blood running through your veins.

Right now you have your two bottom teeth and your two top teeth are coming in. It's been a rough time getting those two top teeth and we had a very hard weekend when we went to Vermont for the family reunion. You stayed up almost all night and then you cried almost the whole way home, to the point where I started to get really scared because you were hyperventilating.We did, however, get some amazing family photos at Aunt Theresa's beautiful lake house.

You bring so much joy to everyone who knows you. People are constantly stopping me and telling me what a beautiful baby you are and how well behaved you are. During your baptism, when the priest said your name, you waved to him and had the whole church laughing. Then, when we got up on the altar for the actual ceremony, you were pointing and waving at everyone. You have such a sweet personality and such a magnetic smile.

I can't wait to see the little person you become. It's already pretty clear that you are full of personality and that you're pretty stubborn. You are so smart and you love books. Your dad and I are constantly surprised by how much you know and how quickly you learn.

We love you, baby girl. You are our light when everything else is dark. You are the smile in the crowd. You are my favorite person. You have my favorite face. One year later, I still can't believe you're ours.

Love you forever my girl,

Your mama

All the things I don't want to forget

About 3 months ago, I had to make a trip to San Diego for work. On the flight home, I felt the urge to write a blog post about all of the things I didn't want to forget about life with Alexia at 7.5 months. Well, I wrote the post, but I never transferred it to blogger.

So, here it is. All of the things I don't want to forget about 7.5 month old Alexia. Now that she's 10.5 months.

There are so many things I don’t want to forget about these first 7.5 months of Alexia’s life. The way her sleepy little head rests on my shoulder with her chubby little cheek against mine when she wakes up in the middle of the night to eat. The way her little hands grab at my shirt when I’m feeding her as if she wants it pulled down for some privacy. The way she looks at me when she first wakes up with that huge smile. The way she blows raspberries in the morning when she wakes up in her crib and I hear it over the monitor. The way she completely cracks up when we throw a ball to the dogs and they jump up to catch it. The way she gets so excited for her oatmeal. The way she sips water from a cup that LoLo holds to her lips.

Alexia, 7 months

 It’s funny because seven and a half months seems like such a short amount of time, but there are already things from her first few weeks and months that I totally forget. I forget what it was like to hold that tiny little body on my shoulder while I burped her because now her feet touch my legs when I hold her like that. I forget what it was like to put her down and have her not move from where she is. I forget what it was like to be in a complete haze of sleeplessness and new love. I forget what it was like to have a baby who slept 20 hours a day and who had to nap every 1.5 hours or else she’d get overtired.

Alexia, 8 months at the Children's Museum in Chicago

But what I am loving right now is watching her become this little person with a bright, sunny personality. I know I always say this, but she is such a good baby. She really is just so sweet. Sometimes I wonder how LoLo and I got this lucky. We are both moody people who can have really crappy attitudes, yet here we are with the sweetest little girl who adapts to every situation and smiles and laughs and just generally brings joy to everyone she encounters. To me, it feels like she was meant for us. She makes me a better person because I can’t help but be happy around her.

Worry

Being a mom is hard.... And not just in the I never sleep, someone relies on me to live kind of way. In the I am now bound to a life of worry and second guessing kind of way. There are tiny moments where I forget I'm a mom. And when I say tiny, I mean tiny. Most times when I "forget", there's a tiny baby sock on the floor or on the couch or on the ottoman (seriously...I find baby socks everywhere!!) to remind me.

The other night as I came up to bed, I saw the clothes Alexia had worn that day on our bed and I immediately thought about how much I love her. And how I can't believe we are keeping her forever. Almost ten months in and I still can't believe she's ours to keep.

Another amazing pic my sister took

I would be lying if I said I don't think about life before the baby. Not because she is a bad baby or because I don't love her, because neither of those things are true, but because the things I worried about before Alexia seem so trivial now. I have developed a minor anxious feeling (I definitely wouldn't call it anxiety right now) because I worry about my little girl. Apparently this is what parenthood really is. Worrying about this tiny person who keeps growing and facing new challenges and presenting me with new challenges. I worry if I'm feeding her the right things, if I'm stimulating her mind enough, if I'm reading enough books to her, if she should be walking, if she should be writing novels by now and earning her PhD.

I would categorize myself as a pretty laid back mom. I like to expose Alexia to lots of new situations and people so that she is comfortable. She has already been to at least five baseball games in her short lifetime. She's already flown four times. She's been to a zoo and a children's museum and parties and dinners and on walks around town. I'm not overly worried about dirt and germs.

via

 But still, I find myself worrying about the night that she'll get the flu and be up all night. I worry that my heart will break, wishing it could be me that was sick instead of her. I worry that some boy (or girl) will break her heart someday and I won't be able to help. I worry that she won't feel beautiful or smart or loved.

One more time

 These are the things I worry about. The things that for me, make being a mom tough. The things that won't get any easier with time and that I will always worry about. Sometimes I think back to those days before I had her and think of the silly things I worried about. They weren't silly then, but this new little life has made me realize what's actually worth worrying about.

The last day

I've been meaning to write and I've got posts already drafted, but tonight something happened that I felt I just had to blog about. And Dad, this one might be TMI. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Tonight I cried because tomorrow will be the last time I pump at work. (well, until we have our next kid... so the last time for a reallllly long time.) Like, legitimate tears came out of my eyes and down my face. About pumping. About something I've complained about for the past 8 months. About something I've dreaded doing every three hours during work and sometimes at home. About something I stressed over for months (do I have enough milk for when I go away? can I go away and find time to pump during the conference? will there be a private bathroom in the airport? when I find that private bathroom will people leave me alone long enough to actually pump?). The struggle is real, y'all.

At first, I ran to the sun room to tell Danny that tomorrow would be the last time I pump! Then it turned into tomorrow will be the....last...time...I...p....(sniffle)ump....

When I first started crying I was kind of laughing, saying, "can you believe I'm crying about pumping?" But then after about 30 seconds, I realized it was real.

I wasn't crying because I wouldn't get to be hooked up to a machine (one that failed me 3 times nonetheless) three times a day. It's not about the machine. It's about the fact that three times a day, I got to stop and really think about my little girl even though she wasn't there with me. Three times a day I got to do something just for her, something I knew would help her grow. Three times a day I got to think about just how incredible my body was for being able to nourish her little body.

On top of that, I got to create a really special bond with some other mothers who just seemed to get it. They understood what it meant to be in that tiny room without windows three times a day, sometimes for 40 minutes at a time, no matter what else was going on at work. They knew what it felt like to be late for meetings or to miss parts of meetings or to drop everything and run downstairs because even when you're at work, your baby is your number one priority. They understood how significant being down even one ounce a day was. They understood how hard it was for me to stock up enough milk to feed my baby for an entire week while I was at a conference. They understood what it meant to miss your baby on those Monday mornings when you just had an amazing weekend of cuddling and complete bliss.

I'm sad that I won't have that daily check in with my mom friends. Having that support has meant so much to me as a new mom. I know the support won't go away, but it obviously won't be the same.

Today as I was getting ready to leave the lactation room, there was a new mom who I had never seen in there before. She asked me a few questions and I happily answered, but I also gave her something that some of the other moms there had given me months ago: it gets easier. Leaving your baby at daycare gets easier, pumping gets easier, finding a balance gets easier, figuring out who you are as a mom gets easier. It all gets easier.

So while I didn't really enjoy the actual act of pumping, I'm glad for what it has given me. New friends, a special bond with my daughter, and a sense of accomplishment for making it almost 8 complete months at work (and traveling) while breastfeeding.

Becoming Human

This morning as I watched my baby girl play with her little ladybug toy, I couldn't help but notice how much she has changed since she was born. On Monday, she will be 6 months old. The time has just flown, but when I think back to August, it seems like it was such a long time ago. It seems like that was a different baby I held back then while I struggled to feed her and functioned off of several 3 hour chunks of sleep a day.

She wasn't really Alexia yet. And she probably isn't really Alexia now.

But watching her this morning, I realized that every day, I am watching her become human. Her little personality is forming. Her excitement is obvious now. We can tell when she likes something (oatmeal is very high on that list) and we can tell when she really doesn't (carrots are very high on that one).

So serious...

She's this tiny little person discovering the world and I get to watch. I get to experience the pride she feels when she realizes that her little feet hitting those keys on her piano are what is causing the sound. I get to watch while she stares at herself in her tiny little mirror and smiles at the cute baby she sees.

And someday, I'll be the one she calls Mama and the one she says I love you to and of course the one she fights with and the one she's embarrassed by.

As Alexia gets bigger and stronger and becomes her own little person, I am watching in awe. She's reaching for what she wants. She's starting to really be able to roll around and move. Tonight for the first time, LoLo and I saw Alexia get upset when we took something away from her.

Last week I was talking to my friends at work about how time is such a crazy concept. As an adult, a week seems like such an insignificant amount of time but for a baby, it can mean the difference between having to be propped up and being able to sit up by yourself.

I'm learning to slow down a little bit and take life one week at a time. As Alexia grows more and more, I just want to take my time to experience all of the little changes that are happening before those changes pass me by.

I thought pregnancy was an amazing thing because of the little life growing inside me, but honestly, I'm more in awe of the little life growing outside of me.

The Grinch's Heart is Officially Melting

If you don't remember, I've grown to kind of dislike Christmas. Nothing tragic happened to me as a child, but as I've gotten older, Christmas has been equated with stress and having no money and trying to find the perfect thing for people who have everything and high pitched music that seems to be worse than Chinese water torture.

Last year at this time, I was preparing for another Christmas that would stress me out and probably still hadn't finished all of my shopping yet because I always wait until the last minute. I had even written a whole post about being a Grinch. I had no idea that on December 30, 2012, my life would completely change.

That's a lie. I had a small idea.

See, last year at Christmas, I slept all week. I slept all night, I slept most of the day. I snored (which I never do!). I had crazy heartburn. I kept taking really deep breaths but feeling like I couldn't catch my breath. I knew something was different.

And something was very different indeed. I was pregnant!

So this year, a whole miraculous year later, while I watch my beautiful four month old baby girl sleep with this angelic little look on her face, Christmas has a whole new meaning. It reminds me of the happiness as well as the trepidation I felt last year around this time. It reminds me of how thankful I am to be a mother this year and how lucky I am to have this little girl. Not everyone gets a Christmas present like the one I got last year.

How could you be a Grinch with this little elf??

 LoLo loves Christmas and this year as he put up his tree, he kept saying, "This is for my little girl." He played Christmas music in the living room with only the light of the tree lighting the room. And it got to me. It started melting my little Grinchy heart. I may or may not have cried a little bit while rocking my little girl to sleep one night as the Christmas music played. I know I sound like a broken record, but this baby is so special to me and I know that this time of year will always be different now. This will always be the time of year that I learned my whole life would change forever.

Mom, working

As you can imagine, life lately has been consumed by my little girl. I finally feel like I am starting to get to know her and to know what she needs. This little baby is so good. And I'm not just saying that because I'm her mother. When we're around people who have just met her, they always ask us if she's always this well behaved. My answer: yes, for the most part. She is has her moments, but overall, she is such a good baby.

She sleeps through the night. She rarely cries (only if she's hungry or tired). She smiles nearly all day. I can't tell you how happy I am. Alexia is the sweetest little girl.

Now can I be real for a few minutes?

About 5 weeks ago, I went back to work. The first day was tough. I dropped Alexia off at her new daycare (which we love by the way) and got back in my car. I let myself cry for 5 minutes on the way to work and then forced myself to stop. I knew that if I let myself cry any longer than that, I would be crying all day.

But once I got back to my desk, sitting in front of my computer, catching up on everything, chatting with my co-workers, a piece of me that had been lost for 9 weeks returned. I felt more comfortable than I had in a while. I knew what I was doing. I was good at what I was doing. I felt confident.

I felt like myself again. I've always known how much I love my work. I love what I get to do every day. I really missed work while I was on maternity leave.

I know some moms would feel guilty for feeling the way I feel. We've all been told at some point or another that we are letting someone else raise our child while we work. And while that is partially true, my daughter knows who I am. She smiles when she sees me. When I get home from work every night, I spend that precious time with her cuddling and laughing and playing. On weekends we spend time staring at each other and I give her way too many kisses (that's totally not possible) and tell her how much I love her.

Alexia needs a happy mama. I would not be a happy mama without my work. Staying at home is not something I'm good at. I was an awful housewife during funemployment. During my maternity leave, I realized I need some balance. I need to feel productive and I need to work my brain in ways that just aren't possible when I'm at home with a baby. Of course I realize how difficult it is to be a stay at home mom and how there is a different type of productivity that comes with that role, but I just couldn't do it. And I don't feel guilty about that.

Chasing Sleep

Hi everyone! We're still here! My girl is 9 weeks old (a little over 2 months for those normal people who don't think in weeks).

So much has happened in the past month and every day I think to myself, "Ohhh I need to blog about this!" And I want to blog, but it just never felt like I had time. I'm now relegated to blogging while pumping. Please don't try to imagine that. It's as bad as it sounds.

Alexia is doing great. She's such a sweet little baby. She has her bad days of course, but overall, she has been so good. I really am so happy and know that she is so special. I won't lie and say it's all been easy. There have been times when I've questioned whether I could handle having a baby. 

2 month picture taken by Auntie Em

One night last week, Alexia woke up only 3 hours after she had gone to bed. Before that, she had been having some long stretches of 5, 6, or sometimes even 7 hours of sleep. On this particular night, when she woke up after only 3 hours, I couldn't help but cry. I was exhausted. I thought we were making progress. In that moment, it felt like all of that progress was lost.

I cried because a part of me misses my old life where I slept and got to feel selfish and got to decide how my day would go and got to shower before 3pm. Then I cried because I felt guilty for feeling that way. How could I miss my old life when my new life has Alexia in it? How could I miss sleep knowing that my life is so much better now that she is here?

I had to give myself a break. Any sane person would have a tough time with this sleep schedule... actually this schedule in general. There is no schedule. You do what Alexia wants, when she wants it. The past 9 weeks are a blur of feedings, little sleep, sleep at weird hours, trying to figure this little person out, tears, unbelievable happiness, and so much love.

Another amazing picture taken by my sister

And that night when she looked at me, I remembered why this was all worth it. There will never be love that feels like the love I feel with her. That tiny face looks for me and stares at me and knows me. Someday when she's older, I will miss that feeling and I will forget the sleepless nights and the long days. But right now, while I'm in the thick of it, "chasing sleep" as I heard one mother say, it can be hard to see the big picture. It can be hard to give myself that break.

But through it all, there is so much love. So many cuddles. So many little kisses on those perfect little cheeks. And knowing that this little baby is ours brings me so much happiness.

Motherhood and pregnancy thoughts at 38 weeks

As a first time mom, I am going through this pregnancy completely in awe of what my body is doing. There is a tiny person moving inside of me. Taking my air. Taking my nutrients. And definitely taking my energy.

37 weeks

 As I experience all of these things, I can't help but think about all of the other women who have gone through this in the past. See, as a first time mom, I like to think I'm special. Look what my body can do! But then I stop and think about how pregnancy is such a universal experience. Women have gone through this without saying a word for years. Women in far off places have these same experiences, no matter where they are from. And often times, we don't hear about their experiences. Sometimes when I see women around me with babies, I wonder what their pregnancy was like. Did people get excited for them? Did they feel these same feelings as I do?

What did women do before they had message boards and chat rooms and internet sites about pregnancy? I mean, obviously I know that they spoke to each other and made bonds with other mothers around them. It's just so different though. I can get a question answered by other women around the country and around the world in less than a minute. I can reach out to other women when I'm feeling anxious or scared. I can write a blog post and have friends reach out to me with the sweetest advice and reassuring words. 

To be completely honest, sometimes I get sad that this is my only "first time" experiencing pregnancy. If LoLo and I have another baby, it won't be as big of a deal. People won't be so understanding towards me or so excited about my experience. Of course we'll be excited and will look forward to meeting another new baby, but it won't be the same.

I'm at 38 weeks along now and it feels so strange to me that I could have a baby any day. It seems so unreal. People ask if I'm excited and my honest answer is "I'm ready to not be pregnant anymore, but I'm not sure I'm ready to have a baby." Those two things are very different for me.

I can't believe our little family of 2 (3 if you count Bronxy!) is going to grow any day now. The days of just me and LoLo are almost over. Right now I feel sad about that... but I know that once I see that tiny little face, I'll forget it. And that day could be sooner than I think...