Dave pointed out the other day that we’ve lost count of all of our due dates: due dates for

chemical pregnancies

(what they call it when you lose the baby before week 12), for friends’ children who you welcomed joyfully and sadly, for daydreamed

Wouldn’t it be great if…?

babies, for potential match babies, for matches that fell through, for adjusted due dates for actual matches, for paperwork, for finalization, for choosing a match, for

safe after this date potential labor dates

.

So many dates have come and gone – some mattered a lot and some were forgotten; some we don’t even know about yet but will change our lives down the road. Here’s what I’ve learned: as scientific as medicine is, family isn’t. I would love to not care about due dates, to be nonchalant in the face of hopes and dreams and worry that fit tidily into a box on the calendar. And you know what? Due dates aren’t always bad, or the finish line. Sometimes due dates liberate you, and start you off down a new path. We’re not waiting for The Due Date – were waiting for a birthdate. But it’s the same feeling of end and beginning in one, and as the days roll by on my February calendar page, I am getting pretty psyched for our next one. Birthdate will be followed by adoption day and finalization and lots of other days, but right now this due date means a baby joining our family. So I’m not forgetting the other ones – the lost ones and the great ones. I’m just enjoying a moment of peace as I contemplate the approaching one. I do wonder though: how did we function without calendars?!

Tess had her RSV shot visit today – only one left this year! For the first time, she whimpered before the shots – broke my heart into a million pieces. She recovered well, and is so lucky to be protected like this in the first place, but oh! That quivering lip.

The visiting nurse and I were talking about Deuce, who’s hit 32 weeks today. She pretty much shrugged him off as a preemie, since 32 weeks is so much better than the 23-36 weekers she visits all day! I like being on that side of the divide, knowing our dates are now in the orange/yellow versus the red. And Tess? Well, Tess is just a healthy little miracle baby who now loves sanding at the window, giggling at the drop of a hat, and feeding Stella. Her great passion is cups of all shapes and sizes, and she outright refuses to clap her hands. Yep – feisty seems pretty accurate.