Age of Viability

For someone who has never had to say goodbye to a child born too soon, "viability" is not a milestone they usually think of during pregnancy. But today marks 24 weeks, which is considered by most hospitals to be the "age of viability."

That means, that unlike with the twins -- where we just had to hold them and watch them pass on -- this little bean would feasibly stand a chance. They would intervene. It wouldn't be easy. There'd be steroid shots and lots of NICU time, but they would try. And the survival rate climbs steadily from this point on.

It's very hard to think that a few short weeks makes such a difference. That our twins were so close to being "viable" -- and yet so far away.

Because we've reached this critical milestone in the pregnancy with no problems, next week will be our last regular visit with the high risk doctors. They're doing a growth scan, and then sending me on my merry way, because as the last doctor put it, "There's no emergency procedure to be done now. Your measurements have only gotten better and better."

As elated as that makes me, it's also bittersweet. In a weird way, I was hoping for a definitive 'problem' to fix. I wanted a reason for why I lost the twins. A reason my body failed. I wanted something to blame. "Oh, you definitely have an incompetent cervix." or "Your uterus is hypersensitive."

Instead, nothing has been indicated as a clear problem. And it all goes back to what the doctor told me the morning after the twins died. "Sometimes this just happens with multiples."

"Just happens," is nearly impossible to accept. My babies died, just because. And I can't blame.. I can't fix.. "just because."

And I look now in the nursery closet, filled with supplies we had purchased for the twins. Sad that Jasper and Bodhi aren't here to use them, yet hopeful that "Garby" will give it new life.

24 weeks and counting, little guy. <3

We Adopted

No, not a human.

We adopted another dog.

As soon as I posted the news to Facebook, I could hear the sighs of "Are you nuts?!"

Yes, we already have one dog at home. My baby girl, Bristow. Anybody who knows us knows that we fully consider her our first child. We raised her from 8 weeks old, and have spoiled her rotten. She has full run of the furniture, drinks only filtered water, we whisper to not wake her when she's sleeping, and only turn the lights on when she's decided to get up for the day.

We knew adding a new human in a few months was going to be a huge change for her. Mom and Dad won't be able to spend every hour snuggling with her. The house sure won't be quiet. Things were about to change.

Now, for quite some time, we wanted to adopt a second dog. But that has especially been true since moving into our new home. Even though it's a fairly nice neighborhood, I'm often home alone.. including overnights when my husband is working. I find myself hearing all sorts of noises and convincing myself that someone is within seconds of busting in the door. I inevitably end up turning on all the outside lights and peering out into the yard for several minutes.

Oddly, I lived alone for years, and I never got nervous or scared. I'm not sure if it's the fact that I'm now preggo and feeling the need to nest and make my home the safest it possibly can be, but it was a second dog or a security system. The option to rescue an animal won out (and saves us some money).

And as a bonus, we thought/hoped our new girl may help Bristow cope with those only child issues before a baby comes home.

So in terms of security, size, loyalty, and family-friendliness, I found myself drawn to either shepherd or lab mixes. I had been browsing several rescues in the area, and none really jumped out at me. For weeks, I searched pages. And in the last few days, I started filling out applications to meet some possible contenders. But I wasn't sold on any of them. Then I decided to peruse the Almost Home Humane Society page once more... and there she was. I saw that face online and my gut was screaming, "That's your girl!"

I sent Brad a text with a picture and a link. "We have to meet her. She's soooo pretty. And those eyes. Can you get off work by 5pm? I'll meet you." He agreed, though not nearly as excited as I was.

We walked into the rescue, and they led us back to her. My heart hurt as we passed all the other barking dogs in their cement and chain link pens. One very handsome basset hound and beagle mix really tore away at me. It didn't help when I glanced back and saw Brad had stopped to look at him briefly. But I had to keep my eye on the prize.

They pulled Nori (named Hannah at the shelter) from her pen and took us to a visiting room. She was still very puppy-like, nipping to play and jumping up on us. But still, very mellow, in that she didn't bark at anything. Nor was she timid around us. They also told us that she passed all temperament tests with flying colors. By the end of our short visit, she was showing her belly and trying to hop up on the bench in between us. I was sold.

Brad was nervous. "I'm just worried about Bristow. She's my baby."

My thought process was that she can either deal with change now, and have a buddy to occupy her when the baby arrives. Or she can deal with it all at once, by herself, in a few months. And for me, at worst, we give Nori a few weeks outside the shelter as a pseudo foster family. Any break from the constant barking and cement floors has got to be a good thing. (And we would exhaust all options, including bringing in a trainer, before ever considering returning her.)

Hubby agreed, and we prepared ourselves for a very uncomfortable introduction. First, we had them meet on neutral ground outside the home. But Nori, with her puppy ways, was full of excitement and jumping. Bristow didn't care for such quick movements, especially around her parents, and let out a few good growls while lunging. But eventually they both got so worn out that they fell asleep on the couch together, with Brad sitting in between. I was so glad, at that moment, that we didn't wait til we had a 1 or 2 year old in the house while trying to bring two dogs together.

From everything I've read, and been told by other fur parents, it can take quite some time for the established dog to really accept the newcomer. And we're doing all the obvious things... Letting Bristow have her 'sacred' space where she can get away, keeping food/water bowls separate, etc. So we're eager and hopeful moving forward. But if any of you have tidbits of advice, we welcome it.

The rescue identified Nori as a "lab mix." She definitely looks mostly lab (in body and snout shape), but Brad and I think she might have some pit bull in her -- based on her ears and coat. Still, at 14 months old, she looks to be a smaller "medium" breed.

My mother asked, "Where did you get Nori?" Yes, most people know it as the seaweed.. but it also means belief, rule, or ceremony. It was actually a contender if we had conceived another girl. But instead, we adopted one :)

As a final note, consider donating or gifting to your local humane society/shelter as you consider all the countless causes seeking your support this season. There's even an app (Walk For A Dog) you can download, and all you have to do is log your dog walks, and it makes a donation to your local shelter. <3 And PLEASE... Adopt. Don't Shop.