I don't remember all I last told you about but here is what is going on in this crazy world of mine.
The good:
MayBerry arrived at the end of May, a healthy seven pounds, three ounces, twenty inches long, with a full head of soft dark hair, and healthy! We named her when we saw her, and due to privacy reasons we shall forever call her L. The first of my daughters is A, she is L, and I will continue this naming system unless I go bonkers or forget >.<
She is now three weeks and counting, her days and nights are mixed up, and she sleeps more than big sister A did at this age, just not at night...when we want her to sleep! LOL
Big Sister is amazing. She is helpful, oh so very helpful, to the point where we have to tell her not to try to force a soothie (aka pacifier) on her sleeping sibling, not to shove a bottle down the wee one's throat, and no, sweetie, we don't need to suffocate L with the bib when wiping her face off. L tolerates the loving sisterly
The bad:
I am still a good twenty pounds overweight, and am not yet ready to exercise to get rid of the last of the chub that came because of my penchant for greasy fast food and candy that still has not left me. Drat, L, you made me want that crap that I avoided since your sister was born.
The ugly:
There has been death in my life. Death and loss. It is quite sad. First, a good friend was told she was losing her foster-but-hoped-to-adopt-child due to the way the law was written regarding custody for our state. The child's only living biological parent lost all rights as a parent because the parent kept making bad choice after bad choice. Instead of my sweet friend getting to adopt this chilld, the child was removed to the custody of a biological grandparent, despite everyone involved saying and knowing my friend had the better home, the best interests of the child, and stability, security, and siblings. It has been a hard few months for her. After the courts ruled against my friend keeping the child she already loved as one of her own, her mother passed away very unexpectedly. This woman was a foster parents, and she inspired my friend to be a foster mother and to adopt her children from the system. She was a good hard working woman and will be missed.
In the days following the birth of my second daughter, we were adjusting well to life with a newborn. My three dogs were still being kept separated from the baby so they could adjust to her sounds and smells slowly. I let my girls out one morning after a small tiff with the hubs. After I was done chatting with him, I went to get the dogs back in from their morning potty break, but I heard a very bad sound. I thought the truck going by my house blew a tire, and I looked to the road to see if he needed assistance. As I looked up, I heard tires locked up skidding on the gravel. That wasn't a tire in the road. I screamed my dog's name and ran. With a Cesarean section incision only healed for nine days, I ignored the pain and ran to her. She was still alive but non-responsive. The neighbor stopped and tried to apologize and help. We apologized back for not having her leashed, and we left, we grabbed my beloved Tink, piled into my car and drove to the vet. My mom stayed with the girls and we drove quickly to the vet to try to save my Tink. According to the vet, she lasted long enough for x-rays, and coded three times. She came back twice, but not that last time. She had a severe hernia in her abdomen, a broken leg, and suffered shock. I am still quite broken and cry over this. Partly from the hormones but mostly from grief and guilt. If only, all of the "if only" thoughts... no matter who says what, this is my fault. My Tink died alone at the vet on a cold table as I sat crying in the waiting area. All that is left of my girl is a collar, ashes in a wooden box, and paw prints in clay. Had I kept up with keeping my dogs leashed every time they went out, she would be alive. There is no way around the cold hard facts. So, while I celebrate every moment of my life with my newest child, I am grieving over my first rescue, my Tinkerbell.
That is the cold, ugly truth. My lax practices of leashing my dogs resulted in the horrific death of a very beloved family member.
Now here I sit. I will forever remember and love my Tink.
