Mom kept Elliot last night. I taught for a friend at Third Degree, who had to go home for her grandfather's funeral. I'm not very good at nights alone. I cry more when Elliot's not in the house.

I had one of those dreams that is so happy it hurts to wake up. I was pregnant, and Karl was alive. We were staying with my grandmother in Arkansas. She's really been gone for years now, but there she was, so excited about my baby, and full of questions about Elliot. She stood at her kitchen table sorting through hand made baby clothes - tiny little sweaters and socks...

I remember sitting on her couch, my hand on my belly. I remember that full, solid, melon like quality, and the comfort of feeling the baby move. I said "I hope it's a girl," but I didn't really. Even as I said it, I knew it was another boy, and I was glad.

I was due in October. Elliot and his baby brother would have close birthdays. They'd be three years apart.

That had always been my plan.