A few months after moving in with my partner, we welcomed Bailey, our quirky corgi, into our lives. At 33, I was feeling the pull of my biological clock, and Bailey, with his short legs and wagging tail, was irresistibly cute. He quickly became the beloved mascot of our neighborhood, charming all the doormen and posing for countless photos. He even had a beagle friend down the hall with whom he played joyfully.
Having never owned a pet before, I found myself obsessively devoted to Bailey’s happiness. He enjoyed four lengthy walks daily, a diet of organic treats, a plush winter coat for those chilly days, and a fancy dog bed that he rarely used. His fetching skills were legendary; I taught him early on that playing fetch was an expression of love, and he became the star of our social gatherings, zipping after balls like a furry missile.
Three years later, I discovered I was expecting a baby. Bailey and I spent quality time together, playing fetch and enjoying our walks, even as my growing belly made it harder for him to snuggle close. However, everything changed once our son arrived. In the early weeks, Bailey was protective, sensing the significance of the new arrival. But soon, he realized that the baby was here to stay—a noisy, demanding little creature that monopolized our time and energy. Plus, the baby came with a plethora of toys that were strictly off-limits to Bailey and a stroller that seemed like a rolling monster.
After adjusting to our one-bedroom apartment with a new baby, we decided it was time for a bigger space in Brooklyn, hoping for a calmer environment. But the transition was tough on Bailey. Gone were his favorite napping spots and the friendly doorman who once doted on him. Instead, we moved to a noisy, chaotic area filled with barking dogs. It wasn’t long before Bailey was attacked by a loose pit bull in our courtyard. Although he wasn’t seriously harmed, this incident left him traumatized, and he became increasingly anxious and irritable.
As our son began to explore his surroundings by “walking” while pushing a plastic cart, Bailey felt cornered. His world shrank, and I watched helplessly as he withdrew into darker corners of our home. My feelings of guilt as a dog mom were compounded by frustration over his anxiety, which I felt was a reflection of my parenting. I was determined not to repeat the fate of my husband’s childhood pets who had been sent away.
During a recent flight, my son started yelling, “Stop it, Bailey! Stop it!” It struck me how often I had to tell Bailey to be quiet. This prompted discussions with my husband about whether we should leave our noisy Brooklyn locale behind. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have a home with a yard where Bailey could roam freely? A place to help mend our fraying family dynamics?
We eventually found the perfect house in a peaceful neighborhood in the Bronx. With a cozy backyard that’s perfect for chasing squirrels and gathering sticks, it offers much more than just space for us. It also means a healthier, happier life for Bailey, who deserves to feel secure again. Yes, there are benefits for us humans—more indoor space, a good public school nearby, and an easier commute—but ultimately, we made this move for our first furry child. After all, don’t we all want the best for our loved ones?
For more information on home insemination, check out our other post here. If you’re looking for a comprehensive guide to at-home insemination, you can find valuable insights from Make A Mom. Additionally, for reliable information about fertility and pregnancy, the CDC provides excellent resources.
Summary
In this article, I shared my journey of adapting to life with a dog and a new baby. After facing several challenges in our Brooklyn apartment, we decided to purchase a 3-bedroom house in the Bronx to provide a better environment for our corgi, Bailey. This move not only aims to improve Bailey’s quality of life but also to strengthen our family’s bond.