Dear Friends,

I’m home.

My trip to Texas was truly phenomenal.

After my first update, Texas Day One, I really believed I would post each day. Maybe even twice a day!


After I hit post on that first entry, the day my husband’s college roommate dubbed my “running with scissors” day, I thought I’d give you a big update on Texas Day Two, followed by Day Three and then Day Four!


Soon enough, I discovered that each day would bring one incredible moment after the next, and there would be no time to write, let alone process all that I was experiencing.

And now I am home.

And what I thought would be a restful Sunday morning full of contemplation and writing, was instead spent at an emergency veterinarian clinic with our cat Max, who had some sort of run in with a wild animal during the night.  We know now that he is ok.  But we didn’t know that when we saw the blood on the porch floor, and we didn’t know that when we were trying to load him in his carrier without causing him further injury, and we didn’t know that when my car suddenly quit on the way to the vet.

We still didn’t know that he’d be ok as the tow truck driver loaded my car onto the flat bed, and Lee arrived to transfer Andie, Max the cat and me into his car.

But now we do know that Max is ok.  Angry, confused, and wearing a cone of shame, but, still, ok.

I now know, too, that this morning was a chance to practice what I preached to so many of the preemie parents I met in Texas.

“Visualize your baby some time in the future,” I had said. “Healthy and healed and running through a park, eating an ice cream cone, sleeping next to you in your bed at home.”

As I held my hands on Max looking at the deep concern in Andie’s eyes, the chant Please don’t die repeating in my head, I suddenly remembered my own advice.

“Let’s picture Max out on the back stone wall hunting a chipmunk,” I said to Andie.  “Or sleeping in the sun on the garden bench, or running to the back door when you call for him.”

“Or doing his rollies on the driveway,” Andie added.

And we continued in that way.

And Max is ok.

I hope the same holds true for my car.

And those babies and their parents in Texas?  Well, that kind of puts the car, even Max, in perspective.  I will carry all those families in my heart and my thoughts and my prayers.

And for now, between soccer practices, play dates, and school meetings, I will try to process, digest and hopefully make sense of all the astounding moments I experienced.  And as I do, I will share them with all of you – all of you who have so graciously joined me on this wild ride.  I am so utterly grateful to have your company!

With love and blessings,



Max pre-cone!