Another Baby

This is my first pregnancy, but it is not our first baby.

Michael married into the deal. I came with the cat.

I won't deny it; Liesel rules the house. She grew up in my apartment in pre-Michael days. And when Michael entered the picture, she enjoyed visits from him. But marriage and a move-in brought months of 5, 4, then 3 AM bouts of continuous meowing. She did not adjust well to her new pet, who was now here to stay. Eventually, this adjustment phase passed, and she came to adore Michael nearly as much as I do.

Then came the house. We were thrilled to introduce stairs and 3-levels of roaming bliss to our furry friend. She responded by staying in her carrier until we carried her out. Our mistake was letting her have free reign of the whole house, which to her was terrifying. She spent her first night wedged up against the back of the staircase in the basement; we found her the next morning covered with drywall dust. The next night before we went to bed, we called for her and heard a muffled meow in return, but couldn't find her. We crawled into moving boxes and shoved furniture aside, but went to sleep without discovering her hideaway. The next morning we were greeted with more muffled meows, more panicked this time; eventually we discovered her to be trapped inside- yes, inside - our new loveseat. She had crawled in a narrow slit in the back when one of the seats was reclined the night before. One peeing mishap and 3 days without food or water later, we learned to have her get used to her new surroundings floor by floor, and now she owns the castle.

Cats are creatures of habit, and Liesel is obviously no exception. When we walk in the door, we can hardly put our keys down before she nags us to pet her for at least five minutes on her favorite rug in the entryway (the other entryway, not where we actually just walked in; that would just be too convenient), where she purrs and flips around in ecstasy. Every night, within minutes of crawling into bed, Michael is greeted by a purring cat who sleeps on him all night long and ignores me. In the morning, she is all mine and won't give Michael the time of day.

We are told by countless other parents how this baby will be changing our lives so dramatically. And if we are blown away by the transition, in good and exhausting ways, I can only imagine what Liesel will do. She knows something's up. She will venture into the nursery when we do, sprawl on the rug, and sit under the crib. She probably thinks we're setting up a room just for her. Over time, after countless times of our hands being full of baby, burp rags, and diaper bags, unavailable for the petting, she will just have to learn how to share.