Six months

And we're more in love than ever with this amazing little guy:

He is happy and cheerful, loves to laugh, desperately wants to crawl, holds his own bottle, and seems to think he did okay in the mama and daddy department.  He goes down for bed easily, sleeps 6-8 hours at a stretch more often than not, and hates to nap.  He adores the dog, who tolerates him.  He likes sweet potatoes, green beans, and peas.  He tips the scale at 20.5 pounds!

We are exhausted and on illness number 735, or so it seems.  (Love his day care, hate those germs!)  We're not sure how we're going to make it once Daddy starts teaching again in the spring (right now he's part-researcher, part-house husband, which is great!). 

There is much swirling about in my head, now that half a year is passed.  Trauma anniversaries tend to be PTSD triggers.  His delivery was certainly traumatic, and the six-month mark has triggered a lot of emotions.  As I lay awake the other night listening to Z cough, I kept flashing back to the operating room and frantically asking the anesthesiologist why he wasn't crying.  I finally had to wake B up to help talk me out of the panic attack.  I'm feeling better in the last few days.  But as we watched the wonderful "Parenthood" last night (if you're not watching it, why not?), and Adam and Kristina welcomed baby Nora, B said, "I want a birth like that."  Me too.

We go back to the wizard in about two weeks.  I am terrified.  I am terrified that we won't be able to get pregnant again (and we're in no position financially or emotionally to do IVF again).  I'm terrified that we will and that pregnancy will be awful.  I'm terrified that we'll have more miscarriages.  I'm terrified of another dreadful delivery.

Six months (Halloween) was my initial target date for breastfeeding.  In those long, painful first eight weeks, when Z refused to nurse, I never imagined we'd make it to this point.  But now he loves it. And nothing is as sweet as those bedtime nursing sessions.  And yet, it's time to start thinking about when to stop.  It seems I'll need to in order to pursue another pregnancy. And pumping at work takes so much time and energy.  Emotionally, though, I'm not sure either one of us is ready to give it up.  And I'm not ready to start buying formula!  I just don't know what the answer is.

Some days, it seems like we're all barely getting by until bedtime.  But those grins and slobbery kisses are so worth it.  He is awesome.