Well, I'm sorry I've been very slow on the updates recently. I've been really dragging and tired all the time, making it very hard to concentrate on my writing. I've been pecking away at it, but it's been very slow and I'm not in love with what I've been writing.

I guess what I really need to do is just rest and recover for a bit. It feels as if that's all I have been doing- I haven't worked in a week and a half, after all. All I want to do is sleep.

So, sorry, dear readers. It breaks my heart to say it, but I need to take a little break. I'm going to keep writing a little bit at a time until I feel well enough and have enough built up to actually post. All I've managed since the last update is less than 2,000 words, and like I said, I'm not happy with them.

So, to make up for this little break, I have a teaser for you. I wrote this a long time ago and it probably won't make it in this exact form when the time comes, but here's a big, fat spoiler for you all:

Yeah, I know how clichéd it is, but when Emmy announced that she thought it was time to go to the hospital I ran around the house like a crazy woman grabbing everything we might need. Thankfully Michael stayed calm and got Emmy loaded into the car while I was in a frenzy. I threw the overnight bag in the back seat and took the narrow, winding streets of our Hollywood Hills neighborhood at a much quicker than safe speed, determined to get to the hospital in Beverly Hills A.S.A.P.

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Soon enough we were in the maternity ward and Emmy’s obstetrician was on her way. I’d pre-arranged everything with the hospital (and Emmy’s doc) so all we had to do is, well, have a baby.

In retrospect I could have driven at grandmother speed and checked in at the front desk, because nothing really happened for hours. In fact, the next eight hours were a lot of absolute nothing. When the contractions finally started I thought that we’d be mothers soon enough, but again, there was a whole lot of waiting. Emmy was becoming less and less comfortable, but there was nothing I could do but hold her hand and stroke her hair and tell her how much I loved her. Again a cliché, but all very true. To me she was the most beautiful woman on the face of the earth, and never more so than just then.

The actual labor part also lasted forever, and I have to admit that things became quite blurry towards the end- a mix of fatigue, adrenalin and stress combined to give me a sort of disassociated feeling, but I snapped back out of it when our baby appeared.

The doc cut the cord, or whatever it was that she did (I wasn’t paying attention) and when the nurse wrapped our little girl and handed her to me a few minutes after midnight, instantly the world became a much, much better place. I held our tiny little baby (only five pounds, twelve ounces), admired her soft dove-gray skin and looked into her unfocused blue eyes and fell in love. I completely lost my heart to that bundle of joy. In Dr. Seuss speak, my heart grew two sizes that day.