What Were We Thinking?!?!?!?!

Seriously, I cannot emphasize enough how ecstatically happy I am that we decided to 'kid.'

This little girl has brought so much joy into our lives that I sometimes feel like I am going to burst. I am well-aware that we are not the first parents to say this - and I'm certain that we won't be the last.

All of those reservations I had? The ones about finances, my already too-large chest, struggles with weight and selfishness in general? WAY out the fucking window. Now we, (both John and I) ask ourselves how we ever even hesitated. Hindsight's 20/20 kids.

That said, the hesitation really isn't all that surprising when you think about it. You simply don't know how you're going to feel until you dive in - and once you do, there's no turning back - which is why I think it is such a scary prospect... at least for some of us. There's always the chance you'll regret it. I've read a handful of stories about women who do, which is truly tragic. I can't even imagine what a horrible feeling that must be - and I feel for those women. What must it be like to feel as if you made a huge mistake - one you cannot undo?

Fortunately, neither of us can even begin to fathom that. Gypsy's smile - and now her infectious laugh... they're like crack. We cannot get enough.

I just can't imagine my life without her anymore. Life pre-Gypsy seems a bit empty now. Sharing my 39th birthday with her was the best gift ever. She's the best gift ever. I'm sorry I'm gushing - but I can't help it.

Can you blame me?

I mean Jesus. Look at this ridiculous face - with the squishiest, rosiest, cutest most kissable cheeks ever.

She is already inspiring me to be better... to do better on so many levels - as a wife, as a working mom - as someone who can hopefully guide her to lead an extraordinary life filled with her own joys and triumphs, tears and laughter, adventures and misadventures. I can't wait to see what this little one gets into.


Anna Banana

Oh, Anna. When you were diagnosed with Congestive Heart Failure, the world around me came to a standstill. How could this vivacious, carefree, happy little pup who was always a ray of sunshine have heart failure at only 7 years old? And what did it mean? How long would we have with you? Weeks? Months? Could we even hope for another year?

It was awful. I was hysterical on the walk home - a short jaunt from the vet's office to our apartment, but it felt like a million miles.

I had to stop crying. You didn't even know anything was the matter. All you had was a cough - a cough that just didn't go away. You didn't even seem to notice - and so we knew we had to get ourselves together and just continue to enjoy every single minute with you - even though we had no idea how many more you'd have. You were a fighter, even when things got really bad towards the end. You'd still wake up every single day acting just as excited about it being a whole new day as you did the day before - and you brought so much joy with you. You'd get exhausted after a few minutes of barking, running around, kissing Gypsy and just being you - but you loved those minutes, which it was why it was so impossibly hard for us to let you go.

You taught us how to live. "Be as the pup," we'd say, whenever we fell on hard times. Whenever things were looking dark, you would lift us up and we would model virtually everything after your joy and enthusiasm.

You were remarkable. You were the happiest, sweetest, most inspiring pup ever.

You brought renewed life to Otto, our other loving and sweet but very neurotic pup we'd had for a handful of years before you. I am still convinced that you kept him young beyond what would've been considered 'normal.'

We would walk you down the street, and people would smile just seeing your face. Many would laugh out loud. Your exuberance was infectious and we adored you.

When I found out I was pregnant, a mere five days later, Otto got sick. Super sick. After your diagnosis, we thought he might outlive you. His passing was a total surprise and was completely devastating - but we knew he lived a pretty good, long and love-filled, joy-filled life - in large part thanks to you.

And you kept living with such joy - despite having a serious heart condition and without your Otto. Ultimately, we forgot anything was even that wrong with you.

During my pregnancy you took care of me. You always sensed when I was stressed or tired or just needed some extra love. You helped me incubate Gypsy more or less, sleeping on my tummy every day. You seemed to really love that.

Your daddy didn't tell me, but my stay in the hospital when it was time for Gypsy to join us was a sign of things to come. You were stressed and you weren't doing well. We were a family divided when I was away for those 5 days. Daddy got sick too. He didn't tell me your heart condition was worsening because he was trying to protect me and your little people pup sister. When we came home, you were doing much better. Things were fairly normal - and you quickly took to our newest family member, showering her with kisses. We let you, despite fears of her immune system not being entirely ready to handle puppy love. We couldn't help it. How could we deprive you of that joy?

Nearly four months passed and you were a champ. You constantly showered Gypsy with love - and you made us so proud little Anna. It became clear over the past few weeks though - that the meds just weren't cutting it anymore. One-and-a-half years after your initial diagnosis, you were clearly struggling - but even still, your nature, (determined, happy and loving), didn't want to give in. You kept fighting, but your daddy and I knew we couldn't let you suffer. We knew it was time, so we decided to increase your meds and spoil you rotten for a week - giving you a massive onslaught of love, cuddles and the best food we could think of giving you, (filet mignon, bacon, ice cream and peanut butter). We tried to shower you with love - and we hope that you felt it. We tried to keep smiling despite knowing what we had to do. We tried to be as strong for you as you always were for us.

Anna Banana, Anna Belle, Crazy Munchface - you are and will be forever missed, but you will always have a place in our hearts and you will never, ever be forgotten.


We Are Those Parents

So I recently took Gypsy in for her 3 month well visit - (she's now 14 pushing 15 weeks old believe it or not) - and of course, I was beaming because I, like so many other parents, already believe our child is gifted, special and beyond compare. (Cutest, smartest, bestest, etc.).

And to us, she is.

But I had one of what I am certain are fairly common moments among parents when that wind is completely taken out of your sails:

Me: She totally wants to stand up already like a big girl. She loves standing - despite not being able to do it or even crawl yet. And she's laughing out loud already too.

Pediatrician: "Oh yeah - that's completely typical for three months."

Me: Silent, but thinking - Hey... don't call my daughter typical - She is extraordinary... magical... totally unique!

That said, she's still in the 83rd percentile for head circumference, so there's that.