East Bound and Down

The time has come to say goodbye to Sonoma. So many people have asked me why I would possibly ever leave this corner of paradise and I can’t blame them. Living here is like living in a Norman Rockwell painting. Gorgeous scenery. Small town charm. Amazing food. And, of course, the wine.

The last year here has been one long honeymoon. From summer weekends spent poolside drinking bubbles, to hikes that kicked my butt but always delivered on the view from the top, to nights spent at our house enjoying dinner parties with Matt’s amazing cooking and a seemingly endless supply of delicious wine, to weekends out at the coast. We have been so beyond lucky to get to live in such a place. 

I will miss being able to walk everywhere. I will miss the common bond of an ag community. I will miss friends who became dear in a short time. I will miss the amazing Farmer’s Market on the square on Tuesday nights during the summer. I will miss watching the life cycle of the vines as they bud and bloom and are harvested. I will miss the smell of wine fermenting in the fall. I will miss the hustle and bustle around town as tourists come through on their wine country get aways. I will even miss our spin class at the gym where we’re “the power couple” because we’re 20 years younger than everyone else in the class. And did I mention the wine?

We’ll be back of course. California is in our blood now--especially Matt who’s spent most of the past decade here. We’ll bring baby Bacon back some day and tell him or her that this was where we fell in love from the moment we found out I was pregnant. We’ll come back and visit the place where we said our “I do’s.” We’ll come back for the wine.

We’re very excited about the next chapter and can’t wait to get to Austin and see what’s going to happen next. So we’re off. The movers arrive in the morning and “The Great Babymoon Cross-country Road Trip Adventure” starts on Tuesday as we make the most of a long few days in the car.

We took a hike today to the spot where we got engaged and I snapped this photo on my phone. 

Thank you, Sonoma, for everything. We’ve loved every minute and we can’t back to come back and see you again soon.

16 Weeks

When I left on previously we were headed back to the doctor for our 9 week appointment. I was feeling nervous, but I didn’t have the same sinking feeling as before, so I was more hopeful. The OB understood our anxiety and tried the Doppler before he did the ultrasound. I was surprised because I’d heard of so many women whose OBs won’t even try the Doppler before 12 weeks because it’s not so reliable that early, but there it was. Bacon’s little heart was just beating away. We recorded it on my phone and can’t tell you how many times we listened to that sweet little sound. Everything looked great on the ultrasound and Bacon was measuring a day ahead looking strong and healthy. 

Baby Bacon at 9w

At that point I think we started to let ourselves believe a little more. Up to that point I was feeling very pregnant (morning sickness has a way of bringing that reality home), but I was having a hard time connecting that with actually bringing home a baby in September. I wasn’t over the hump yet, but I did start to look at baby websites here and there and let a few little dreams seep in.

Another two weeks later we went in for the first trimester screening—an ultrasound that takes some key measurements and is combined with blood work to provide a risk assessment for Down Syndrome and a few other chromosomal abnormalities. We drove about an hour to a perinatal  practice and the quality of the images was just amazing. Our little Bacon Bit was squirming all over the place, literally bouncing off the walls and showing off by letting us get a good look at 10 little fingers as well as arms and legs and feet. We even got a good look at the brain. It was ah-mazing. 

Isn't s/he the cutest? 11w3d in 3D

Walking out that day I decided it was time to believe for real. I had fallen in love with Baby Bacon from day 1, but now it was time to believe that this baby is healthy and strong and we’re going to get to hold him or her in our arms in a few short months. 

Now, I’m PgAL, so that’s a lot easier said than done. I am more than aware of all the things that could still go wrong and I still have moments of anxiety. But I have more moments of faith and hope for this sweet child. Even if, God forbid, something else does go wrong, I want to enjoy every day that I have with this baby—even if I’m nauseous and exhausted and have the myriad of uncomfortable and embarrassing symptoms that come along with pregnancy. 

So here we are. 16 weeks and going strong. Still taking it all one day at a time, but getting more and more excited about the day that we’ll get to meet this little one and bring him/her home for good.

16 week belly shot

Here We Go Again...

Whew—what a rollercoaster this journey to parenthood is. As we were still licking our wounds and coming to terms with the loss of our sweet Beanie, we learned that we are expecting again. When we saw that second pink line we were excited, terrified, hopeful, terrified, cautious—and did I mention terrified??


Being pregnant after a loss (or PgAL in the loss circles) is a very complicated and overwhelming place emotionally and I was wholly unprepared for what was about to overcome me. In an instant I would feel the clash of joy and grief, hope and sorrow, anticipation and guilt. More than once I found myself crying happy tears for this baby that suddenly became an ugly cry of guilt and sorrow for the baby we lost. It was, um, an interesting place to be (and I’m sure my sweet husband was thrilled about living with someone whose emotions could turn on a dime).

Just a Bacon Bit at 5w3d

Because of our history and my age we got the Cadillac treatment with the doctors and we got our first glimpse of “Baby Bacon” at 5.5 weeks. Still too early to see much of anything, but we had the assurance that there was growth in the right place and development was on track. We went back two weeks later and had one of those life changing moments—this time we got to hear the sweetest little heart just beating away. Cue more tears, this time filled with happiness and relief.

Getting bigger! 7w3d

But when you’re PgAL, the relief is fleeting and you immediately begin to worry again. Beanie was “older” than that when we lost him, after all, so presumably if we’d had the same two appointments with him we would have heard his little heart before it stopped. I think the following 10 days while we waited for the next appointment and passed the time that little Beanie stopped growing were the hardest. Not knowing if Bacon was still OK in there or if we’d go back at 9wks and experience the same horror that we’d been through just a few months earlier.

During that time I think I might have prayed harder than ever before. With Beanie I knew something was wrong. It didn’t take away from the pain of the moment when we realized our fears were coming true, but it did do something to help prepare me for what was about to happen. I think that was a gift from God and I’m thankful that he was gently getting me ready for what was about to happen. I prayed for the same thing this time around—to either have peace and know that the baby would be OK, or if something was going to go wrong again, to have that feeling in my gut to help us prepare. In this midst of my anxiety, I did feel at peace and I chose to believe that God would be faithful again in preparing my heart for the appointment.

OK…I’ve already written a novel. I’ll tell the rest of the story in the next post. (Don't worry, you already know how it turns out.)

A Little News...

And we're moving back to Texas. All kinds of changes in our crazy little world--and we couldn't be happier to be all shook up!