Six Months Since "See Ya Later"

Six months ago we said "see ya later" to our beloved English Bulldog, Gouda.  If you're not a dog/pet person this post will probably mean nothing to you, so feel free to skip it. Last summer, as I was excitedly starting my third trimester, a routine 3 year checkup for Gouda turned into a "I think we're looking at Lymphoma" conversation.  A few tortuous days and several tests later confirmed our sweet boy was sick.  We took it hard.  Very very very hard.  And being 28 weeks pregnant and having already unpredictable hormonal mood swings made it nearly unbearable.  We were lucky to have a fantastic veterinary oncologist 20 minutes away and we started chemo right away.  While I was left to prepare for baby, Tom took on the responsibility of most of Gouda's treatment.  Since I was pregnant I wasn't even allowed to touch his medications, so this fell to Tom.  I think we both felt pretty cheated at this point.  After going through so much to have a baby, I felt I "deserved" to be able to relax and enjoy the end of my pregnancy.  But all of that was clouded with knowing that we were going to have to say goodbye to our freshly turned THREE year old dog far too soon.  It all just sucked a big huge fat one.  Sorry, I have no other eloquent way to say it.

I could post a thousand pictures here that I love for different reasons, but I'll hold myself back...

One thing that was very important to us was that Gouda and Reese would be able to meet.  We were lucky in that he had six good months with her and we have hundreds of pictures captured.  I'm still not sure what he thought of her and all of her little baby sounds.  I know for certain that was extremely protective of her and would never leave her unattended when someone came over to visit.  I'll never forget the horrified look he would give me every time I pulled out the breast pump, completely embarrassed to see his mom like that.   It still doesn't feel real that he isn't here and sometimes I catch myself looking around for him.

 

We haven't brought ourselves to move his box of things out of the dining room yet.  It just really sucks his things are all sitting in a box to begin with.  Gouda was our first baby and taught us what it was like to put our time, money, and energy into someone other than ourselves.   We loved every single minute with him and we are lucky in that we can look back without a single regret about our time with him.  In the midst of our anger about losing him so soon, there is gratitude that we were were able to give him extra time that was vibrant and full of life.  He never felt pain and we were able to keep it that way up until the very last second.  There will never be another G-Man.   We miss you more than you'll ever know buddy and I hope you're indulging in your hedonistic ways up there.  I like to think you're snacking on a steak and lounging in the sun.

Until we meet again big guy...

One Year

Dear R,

Reese,

Last week, on July 29th, you turned one year old.  Did I know this day was coming?  Surely.  I was cautioned by moms who have walked before me that this birthday would come tumbling toward us, fast and furiously, and boy they were right.  I've tried to articulate the experience that your first year of life has been like for me but words tend to fail me.  Bliss.  Magic. Chaos. Exhaustion. Joy. Love. Love. Love.   The year has been all of those things, and then some.  From the moment I knew you were on our way to us I have cherished, prayed for, and celebrated you.  I don't need a date on a calendar to remind me to celebrate how wonderful you are and how you have made us a family.  I hope you always know that I put you first and that your happiness and well-being are at the core of every decision I make.   We have all learned together this year and figured it out as we went along.  Some months were clouded in a fog of sheer exhaustion (particularly months 1-5...OY VEY CHILD.)  Others...endless joy that I didn't even know was possible.  No matter how hard or easy things are, it never changes the way we feel about you.  You're like Christmas morning every day.

 

We've had quiet a year, you and me.  We've spent endless hours snuggling, reading, soothing you while nestled tightly in your baby wrap, and exploring our city together.  We celebrated all of your "firsts" and I'm still surprised at how bittersweet they are.  You are such a fun loving and curious little girl that you can make any ordinary outing fantastical (groceries! library! walks!).  Your personality continues to come bursting through and your fiesty and independent streak is something your dad and I applaud and try to foster every day.  It can make things challenging at times (as in....you want what you want and you want it NOW!) but I know it is a trait that is inherent to you and will serve you well as you grow into a strong and assertive woman.

 

I look back on this time last year and remember myself feverishly researching every parenting topic and coming up with a plan for how I was going to do things.  Sleep training?  Check.  Breastfeeding? Duh. Co-Sleeping?  You know it.  Do you know how funny this is to me now?  Things did not go according to plan.  Not one little bit.  Some things went way better than I could have hoped for. Others...not so much.  But the good stuff is in all those little details.  Like how you would get up every 2-3 hours for months and months when everyone told me you "should" be sleeping through the night.  I knew in those quiet moments, as I was rocking you that this too would pass whether I liked it or not.  And despite my bleary exhaustion, I clung to those moments because I knew that they would be over in the blink of an eye.  That eventually you would sleep through the night (thank you) and before I knew it you would be launching yourself out of my arms, ready to play and take on the world.   Even on the weekends when your dad would take over the middle of the night wake ups, I would be sad that I missed out on that special time with you.  

On your birthday eve I soaked you in, just like I did in our first days together.  I shed a few tears after we laid you down in your crib that night, knowing that in the morning our world will have shifted just the tiniest bit.  Maybe it's because of the long and crooked road it took to reach you, but you have healed holes in my heart that I didn't know were there.  You've become my most important contribution to this world and I couldn't be more grateful.

Happy Birthday my sweet little monkey monkey!

Love,
Mama