And her name is Milagro

 

DH came inside last evening, about 5:30, and called out from around the corner of the hallway, "Don't look! Close your eyes; close them tight and don't open them." He came closer to me and said, "Hold out your hand, and this may move a little but don't be afraid, it won't hurt you." He put something in my hand and I felt those tiny nails of it's feet. When I opened my eyes, I saw that I was looking down at a tiny miracle, one I never expected to see again in my lifetime because so many nests had failed in the last 10 years. There was Milagro, perfect replica of her parents, blinking at me from tiny brown eyes. It was love.

I am calling this one a girl because she is flat like Poko Ono, her mother. I haven't a clue at this age how to tell them apart, in fact I don't think it's possible to do so.