Hiccup! Hiccup! Snore. Snore. Swish. Swish.

Baby M.'s got the hiccups.

I, personally, hate the hiccups, but I love when Baby M. gets them. It's a neat feeling that is something like a light kick that happens repeatedly in my lower left abdomen. And it's a gentle reminder the baby is in there and (hopefully) doing well.

I can't hear the hiccups, but I sure can hear Addy's snoring. Let me just say that Patrick will get a big elbow in the middle of the night if he's snoring in my ear. But I can't think of many sounds I love more than a cat snoring. As gentle as Baby M.'s hiccups are, the sound of Addy's snoring is just as gentle and sweet.

It's a lovely addition to symphony of sounds in our wee apartment: the jazz playing on NPR, the sliding of Patrick's mouse across the floor, Phoebe's occasional sigh, the tapping of my fingers on the laptop or the swishing of pages turning in my latest book or magazine. If we're lucky, it's all punctuated by the periodic meow from Clarkey, who thinks he lives with the people upstairs now.

When the baby comes, we'll add a whole cadre of new sounds and will be a veritable orchestra.