Norah Grows: 12 Months

My baby, you are no longer the scrunchy, pudgy little newborn that I brought home one year ago, but a long, lean, strong toddler with a will and the determination to follow it.  You no longer have the cry that every single parent knows belongs to a brand new human being, but it has been replaced by words and laughter, shrieks and chatter.  You no longer need your mama to nurse you around the clock, but you still need me for lots of other things, and for that I love you even more.  We have put away your rattles, your bouncer, your swing, and have replaced them with musical instruments you pick up and play, with accessories like purses and necklaces and toy cell phones and keys. In just 12 months, 365 days, one short year that felt like a hiccup in time, you have changed immeasurably from a completely helpless newborn infant to a much more independent, strong-willed, amusing little lady. We could not be more in love with you.

You have a light in your eyes from the moment you wake up until you finally give in to bedtime every single day. You are just such a joyous little girl, and your energy and your smile are contagious, both to those who love you and see you often, and to those who meet you in public, or those who rarely see you but follow up with you on here. You have a newfound way of making yourself laugh, maybe for attention, but once you get yourself going it is impossible not to laugh along with you. It brings such joy to our home, and your Daddy and I are so lucky to live in a space filled with laughter. We smile and laugh with you every single day.

You still love Lainey more and more all the time. You have taken to sharing her pillow with her, and the two of you can often be found snuggling when things get quiet. When Lainey shakes and her collar jingles, you recognize the sound and immediately say "Puppy" and head off to find where she is. In fact, "Puppy" is often the first word you say every morning. You are going to be a lover of dogs for your entire life I would imagine, and you will always look back on Lainey as your childhood best pal. I love that.

You are talking up a storm lately, and we can definitely understand Mama, Daddy, Puppy, Baby, Hi, and you sign "More".  You have many conversations with yourself and anyone who happens to be nearby, but none of us can understand much of it still. It sure doesn't stop you from constantly chattering away to your "babies" or to Lainey, and sometimes you seem so sure that you have just said the most important thing ever and how could we possibly not understand or even think of disagreeing?  Again, just another way that you keep us laughing every day. 

Speaking of your independence, you are no longer interested in your monthly chair photo, so I guess starting next month Mama will have to come up with another place to try and snag a semi-consistent shot of you! We wrangled Daddy in for this month so that we could at least give it our best shot, but you weren't even having that for long! Always on the move...maybe a little bit like your Mama there. 

While this day in 2012 is really all about you, I spent a lot of time reflecting on this day in 2011, when so much of it was also inherently about me, too. I remember the days and weeks leading up to that day with such anticipation of what you would be like, how you were going to enter our world, who you might look like, what your voice would sound like when you first cried. I remember so much about the details of your birthday, of my "Birth Day".  I remember the intensity of my labor and the work it took to bring you from inside my body to join us in this world.  I remember how heart wrenchingly terrifying it was to be wheeled away from you just minutes after I welcomed you into my arms, not knowing anything about what was about to come, and not letting myself believe that I wouldn't see you or Daddy again, but not being 100% sure, either. I was so scared of what I would miss. I knew that you and Daddy had each other, and that's how you both got through those next hours, but I was so afraid I wouldn't ever get to know more about you than the tiniest taste of you I had just been given.  I was afraid that I might wake up and hear that you would be an only child, because my uterus wasn't able to be saved. Luckily, those worst nightmares were no more than a few moments of panic, and our world didn't come crashing down.  But that experience, the very real fear that it all might have just vanished as quickly as it came into being, was enough to show me that I cannot take any days with you for granted. I must find quiet moments to cherish the very "you-ness" of you, every day, because it changes so quickly and before I can blink you're turning a corner and learning and growing before my very eyes.  And instead of being sad about the baby you aren't anymore, I know that I must be the luckiest mama alive to have such a perfectly wonderful little girl in her place.  Happy Birthday, Sweetest Norah Annabel. I am the luckiest.

All the Love in my Heart,
Mama

Farewell, Winnie

Last night was an unexpectedly terrible night.  As we sat down to eat dinner and watch the Tiger game, we heard Winnie making some unusual sounds, and they continued to get louder and we realized something was wrong.  Matt got up to check on her and offered some treats, which she never refuses, and she wouldn't get up to touch them.  Then, she tried to get up and it seemed that she could not use her back legs.  She continued to squawk and we knew that she was either hurt or very sick, and quickly looked up the number for the 24-hour emergency vet.  While we rushed around to get Norah dressed and grab a few things before running out the door, Winnie crawled into our room and hid under the bed.  We were very worried that she knew something was wrong, too, and we didn't want her to be scared or in pain.  Matt coaxed her out and wrapped her in a towel, and we got in the car to rush to Ann Arbor.  Despite getting behind two trucks with horse trailers and one very slow elderly driver, we got her there pretty quickly.  

Once the vet was able to examine her, she determined that it was probably a blood clot which had moved to somewhere in her spine, causing the sudden onset of paralysis.  They gave her a sedative and some pain medication, but ultimately we decided that the treatment for something like this would be too risky, not likely to succeed, too painful for Winnie to endure, and too costly for us to afford.  We had to put sweet Winnie to sleep to end her pain, just a few hours after realizing something was even wrong.  As terribly hard as it is to have to make a decision to do that, we talked about it on the way in and knew that if she was in pain it would be the right thing to do.  I said goodbye to her, and then took Norah out of the room to feed her, and Matt stayed with Winnie until the end.  I'm so proud of him for being there with her and comforting her, because I think if I had stayed I would have been sad and made her more anxious rather than calm.  It was quick, and the staff was considerate and kind.  Today we took her over to Mark's and buried her next to her best buddy, Willie.  I hope that they are already together at the "Rainbow Bridge"...eating and lolling about and generally being fat, happy, lazy cats together like they used to.    

Winnie meets Lainey...little did she know she would soon be outmatched in size

Such pretty markings

Always loved to burrow and snuggle somewhere cozy

Watching prey through the window...a fearless hunter indeed :) 

Claiming the baby's items as your own - you spent your last night in her pack and play downstairs, and I hope it was cozy at least!

Thank you for being by my side through the end of my pregnancy and for being a good kittie to your human sister, Norah.  She won't remember you, but we'll show her pictures!  We miss you already, sweet Winnie.  I hope you are no longer in pain and you know that you were loved by this family.  Sleep peacefully now, and eat lots of chicken!