Ever since Christmas we've been living in a whirlwind. Our heater is still broken, denied by both home insurance and home warranty insurance since it was due to flooding. So we're finally just sucking it up and forking out the cost to get it fixed. It's chilly around here. Sawyer would have never noticed the difference though. He was always on the go, and never cared much for clothing regardless of the weather. One of my favorite pictures is of him playing out on the back hill, with the hose going so a mud slide was made of course, in his little boxer briefs. I loved that little tushy. It seemed that every time he went outside fully clothed, he came back in naked and I would have to go on a clothing scavenger hunt before the dogs destroyed or devoured anything. We've definitely lost more socks to the dogs than the clothes-eating dryer.

Ella, our female golden, had puppies last week. That was stressful in itself since I wasn't sure if she was going to know how to take care of her little guys (yes I'm aware that dogs have been doing this for centuries), but it's different when it's your dog I guess. She had a litter of 10 and 9 have survived. I tried the whole "101 Dalmations rubbing him on the back" business, but no Disney miracles happened here. Logan doesn't know that any died. He would just focus on that. Every since Sawyer's passing he has had an obsession with death and Heaven. I don't know if it's just his age, the fact that he's a boy and finds interest in all things dark and grotesque, or if our experience is the root of it all. Either way, he's happily naïve in believing that Ella has safely and securely delivered 9 healthy puppies. I was thinking the other day how I could just imagine Sawyer sitting down on the floor with one of the puppies in his lap, loving taking care of something smaller than him. And then reality kicked in and I then imagined him getting distracted, standing up, letting the puppy fall to floor and possibly trampling the little pup as he ran out of the room. Sawyer loved, but he loved hard, and on his terms only. That thought made me smile. Sawyer was all boy, as I've said many times, and while he had the biggest heart, loving to help out, loving to cuddle with me and hold my hand, if anything "better" came along, he was up and after it. All boy.

We had our baby shower yesterday. I really do have the best friends and family members in the world. Other than having to survive for Logan, our friends and family are what have really pulled us through this. Oh, and we finally decided on a name for the baby: Everett Sawyer Pennino. Logan is still pushing for Wyatt, but we've pretty much convinced him to start calling the baby Everett. As I've mentioned many times before, we are hoping that Everett has some piece of Sawyer in him, and so far he does. For one, this little guy is a mover and a shaker. He never stops rolling, kicking, or punching. He is most active the second I sit or lie down, which tells me how much sleep we are definitely not going to get. Along with being a busy body like Sawyer, he is apparently going to be just as difficult, keeping us on our toes. My pregnancies with both Logan and Sawyer were both so easy. I've never been crazy about gaining 50 lbs and all of the discomfort that goes along with being pregnant, but regardless, everything was relatively smooth and simple with both. Everett, however, has been giving us scares since the beginning. All of our little complications in the beginning we chalked up to stress and emotions. At the beginning of this week, however, I woke up to some bleeding (not hemorrhaging by any means, but blood all the same). I emailed the doctor, went to work, and waited for them to call. After a few rounds of phone tag, we finally spoke and she told me to come in right away instead of waiting for my scheduled doctor's appointment that was the very next day. I had also been having a lot of lower abdominal pressure and discomfort for the last few days. Well as it turns out, I have a "friable cervix" (gross, right?) which apparently just means that I have a heavy collection of blood vessels on the exterior of my cervix which can be very sensitive and bleed easily. Either way, it's not effecting the baby at all. So that was good news. However, then it turns out that all that pressure I was feeling was actually contractions. Go figure. As soon as the doctor said, "you're contracting," my body went into delivery mode and the contractions became stronger (to where I could actually tell what they were) and all the other wonderful bone and muscle pains that go along with labor decided to kick in. So to make a long story longer, they ended up keeping me overnight and giving me two doses of some muscle relaxer that finally got my contractions to stop. So while I'm not on bedrest, which my family is very disappointed about, I'm still trying to take it easy (which really doesn't mean much, because my version of easy is apparently a lot different from most). And besides, when you're so darn big that sitting down actually hurts more than standing up, you go where less pain is.

So that little trip to the hospital just confirmed that our Everett is not going to be that easy going baby that Logan was, but instead the always-on-the-go baby that Sawyer was. Which is okay with me. It also made me realize that I'm totally not ready for this delivery yet. Not only do I not have a bag packed or other things set up, but I really need to get my toenails taken care of and shave more often! I guess it couldn't hurt to put the carseat in the car as well. Doctors say my due date is March 19, but there's just no way. So we're estimating it to be more like March 7, and after our little hospital escapade, the fact that I'm gigantic, and the fact that everyone is telling me I'm starting to look pretty low (though clearly not offfically dropped yet), I'm thinking our little Everett is gonna come sooner than later. Sooner is always good, as long as he's healthy. We just can't be in and out of the hospital again. We had a few moments of shear terror, thinking the worst. If something happened to our little guy, I'm far enough along to where I'd still have to deliver. We can't bury another baby. We have changed, but can still function. If we had to do that again, we just wouldn't be the same. Strength has its boundaries, and ours has been stretched to that borderline. But fortunately those thoughts only lasted briefly. The baby is still healthy, still kicking like crazy, and still has a strong heartbeat. He's already
 a fighter. 

So that has been our life in a nutshell these last couple of weeks. Sawyer is always on our minds, but I haven't had any real breakdowns since Christmas. This is actually the first blog post I've been able to write without bawling my eyes out as well. 2015 hasn't really started off fabulously, but I hope that it brings with it some healing. It's been 7 months. 7 months. 7 months of after June 9. We are still here loving and missing you baby. Forever and always, your mommy wants you home. <3 <3<3