Nine months. It’s absolutely flown by.
I really, really love being pregnant, and as I count down the days until this little one arrives, I’m already starting to miss it. Even when my ankles are swelling and I’m getting kicked in the ribs and looking longingly at my husband’s glass of wine, I love this brief and amazing time in life. It is so fleeting, so beautiful and I am grateful that I’ve had the opportunity to make this journey not only once, but twice now.
Soon we’ll be a family of four, but for now, I’m perfectly happy with this little boy taking as long as he needs to join us. In the meantime, I’ll enjoy the brief and rare state of a cleared schedule, physical limitations and indulgent naps.
Unfortunately, in the midst of this joyful time, tragedy struck our family this week when a coyote scaled our backyard wall and killed our little dog Gatsby. He was with us for a decade and we loved his silky fur, playful spirit, and overly-ferocious barking. We know he died thinking he was defending his family and his home and we love him for it; we will miss him tremendously. It is hard to move onto the next phase of life without him.