In my deliriously pregnant-fat state, I counted on my fingers a while ago to see how much longer until our baby arrives.
To my shock & awe I couldn’t get my 3rd finger all the way raised.
Yep, that’s right, I only have 2 and a half short little months left! It’s already practically the middle of February (hey, we only have 29 days this month). The first half of this pregnancy felt like a millinnium. Seriously. Each day I would wake up and realize I was only one day further along than yesteray. And time draggggged on.
And on.
I had been told by the the numerous gazillion pregnant women friends around me (isn’t it funny how when you’re pregnant, everyone else seems to be too?) that once you reach your’re 20th week it’s like you start a fastfastfast thermodynamic countdown that even Einstein himself probably never knew about (how could he…he was a male). Of course I didn’t believe them. But sure enough, when that 20th week started, I felt like I jumped off a cliff.
A short, 10 foot tall cliff where the bottom looks so close I can touch it with my big toe already.
These current days are definately flying! Pretty soon our life is going to change so drastically that neither I nor my husband can, right now, imagine the impact it will have on us.
This little person that’s about to be born is going to change not only our bank account balance, but also our lives, our habits, our routines, our names (to mommy and daddy!) and our feelings. He’ll also change the lives of those around us that love us and are a part of our large circle of family and friends. He’ll definately change my own parents lives (he’s their first grandchild).
It’s amazing at how much the future holds for this little person inside of me who has never even seen the outside world. And what’s even stranger, he doesn’t even know it yet – and years from now he won’t even remember 2008…or 2009. And probably not even 2010.
And speaking of time moving fast…what’s sad is, at this rate, I’ll probably wake up tomorrow and it will already be 2015 and my baby will no longer be a “baby”. I want to enjoy every minute of his childhood. I want to be there for him, watch his first step (instead of letting a daycare worker see it), write his first words in a book (uh..or on this blog), lay on the grass to watch clouds, and see his smile as he bites into a watermelon slice. Then I want to bottle it all up and put it on a shelf and savor the memories forever.
There is so much to look forward to, and it’s all going to happen so quickly. And life is far too precious to be “busy” all the time and let the little things pass by. It’s really hard for me to comprehand why some people focus more on “things” or “work” or “activities” and don’t spend time with those they love. I wonder sometimes if they truly realize how fast life passes by and how close to mortality we all are at every second. We just never know.
In the span of millinia upon millinia of years that have passed on this earth, we as individuals only get to enjoy life for a few short decades. All of the time we spend pecking away at musical instruments, working on our careers, reading books, partying, dining out, and even Googling the lastest rumors, all of it is for naught. It doesn’t matter a hill of beans. Material objects rot. Musical fads die away. Money is spent on wasteful things. Food is consumed then flushed, and never thought of again. And even Britney Spears can’t keep us Googling for too long. In the end, the only thing that truly matters – the only legacy we leave behind – is our relationships with others. And that legacy can either be a good one or a bad one depending on how much effort was put into that relationship.
So, as these last 2 months of pregnancy pass me by, I’m trying my hardest to focus on the little things around me, such as….. the first time I watched the baby kick (January 10), the first time my husband felt him kick (February 6), the look on my husband’s face as he sticks his mouth to my big ol’ belly to whisper “Daddy loves you!” (amazement), and even the nagging question of whether my son will appreciate a pastel yellow Winnie-the-Pooh nursery after his first birthday passes (uh, probably not). I know all too well that these days of plump baby making - and even our span of life on earth - will all too soon be over.
Now please excuse me while I go cry in a corner. Silly emotional pregnant woman that I am.
