My son, who is now growing like a weed, stands beside me playing with his trucks and saying “uh-oh” whenever there is a pause between commercials on his cartoon. To say that they grow up, “way too fast” is the understatement of a lifetime – time goes into hyperdrive when your baby is born, and never ceases to slow down.
Until you are pregnant again.
After I got the call from my doctor’s office, announcing that I was in fact expecting, my typical days that flew by like snow in a windstorm screeched to a halt (much like sitting in traffic on I-5 during rush hour in southern California).
I found out early, at four weeks, so I immediately realized that I had 36-weeks of pregnancy bliss ahead of me. With my son, I got the (shocking) news at eight weeks, so I was already 20% done with the task of growing my first baby.
Even though I am experiencing all-day queasiness this go around, and I have been exhausted, I am relishing in the fact that I am pregnant. I look forward to finding out the sex, naming the baby, and decorating her (or his) nursery. I am eagerly looking forward to my 8-week ultrasound next week, and I cannot wait to announce the pregnancy to friends and family in the near future.
As I grow, I will marvel in my growing belly, my changing hormones, and all of the aches and pains associated with being pregnant for it is a true blessing to be able to bring a new human being into the world. I plan to jump and down, my heart skipping a beat, when I feel the baby kick for the first time, and I will spend the sleepless nights toward the end just ‘being’.
My husband and I are pretty sure that we will be done growing our family after this baby is born, so this might be my last pregnancy. And I will enjoy it.
For, after August, there is the rest of my life to ‘rush’. For now I will just enjoy.