Here we are, in love again. Everett Sawyer Pennino was born March 15th at 9:04 am. He was 8 lbs, 1 oz and 21" long. Very similar to the boys. We kept waiting to hear some kind of bad news, but he is perfect. Absolutely perfect. He has a great temperament and is healthy as can be. The birth was very fast and very easy, but a little emotional, as we expected. All was fine until he was placed in my arms. So much emotion came flooding in, and before I knew it, I was in tears, along with Matt and both of our moms. It was instant love for this perfect little man, mixed with excitement that he was finally here, relief that he was healthy, fear for the responsibility of keeping him safe, and remorse that only Logan gets to meet and hold him. I told myself so many times that when the time came I would just be in the moment and enjoy the birth and coming of baby Everett. I wouldn't focus on what has happened or let the fear of bringing another baby into the world overcome me. Easier said than done. It's so hard to look at this little man and not focus on how fragile he is. I can't take my eyes off of him. I will be raising a very spoiled, high maintenance boy - I cannot seem to put him down either. Just when I do, I immediately miss him in my arms. He has already brought so much happiness into our home. Logan absolutely loves him and wants to sit and hold him often. Each time he does he asks questions about Sawyer and how he was as a baby. I tell Logan that Everett is much more like him than Sawyer. Logan was very quiet and calm as a baby (which is no reflection of him now), while Sawyer came out kicking and screaming and never stopped.

The other day Matt and I were inside watching a movie, holding Everett, while Logan played in the back with the sprinklers. All of a sudden I heard his voice yell, but couldn't tell if he was yelling for us or just yelling. I immediately jumped off the couch without saying anything and went to the back door. Then I heard Logan yell "Mommy!" in a scared voice. I ran out back and screamed for him. He was right there on the patio. He was leaning over in one of the patio chairs and it tipped over and landed on him. He wasn't injured at all and could have easily lifted the chair off of himself (he is a bit dramatic at times), but nevertheless, he was lying there on the patio, tears on his face, calling for me. As soon as I realized he was alright and we got him inside and cuddled on my lap, I noticed that I was shaking, trying to hold back tears. I was scared, my heart pounding. The thought of Logan out there, crying for me, waiting and not knowing if I was going to hear him, just rushed in. All my thoughts and fears of Sawyer's struggle, wanting Mommy and Mommy not answering happened all over again. Every time that I think things are okay, we're doing fine, something happens that reminds me of how we've changed inside. We're subtly different, but have forever changed. I'm always calm in tense or stressful situations, so the fact that I was literally shaking, trying not to cry over this was just so surprising to me. So now I struggle with the idea that it's impossible to have eyes everywhere. How do I make sure that my boys are always safe? My mind is always filled with horrible thoughts. Everett has a gag reflex because he likes to mimic sucking while he sleeps, so I am constantly scared he is going to choke while I'm asleep or while he's facing backwards in the carseat. Logan went to Disneyland yesterday and I kept thinking about the potentially dangerous drive out there, the crowds of people that he could get lost in. It's exhausting, but I can't help it. You really never think horrible things can happen until they do. Then you just seem to expect them to keep happening. I guess if anything good comes of this it's the fact that we're so paranoid now that we think ahead to the potential danger. Either way though, we've been forced to realize how short life can be and it's just scary.

So as Everett sleeps on my chest and Logan sits next to us watching Scooby Doo, I kiss them, tell them both I love them and promise myself that nothing will happen to them. They will grow up, graduate, get married, and have happy, healthy kids themselves. They will be old and gray (or bald with our family genes), and be able to look back on their long lives with happiness. This is my goal.