June 26, 2013 at 9:19 AM ET
I wish there was a way to know you were in the good old days before they passed you by. I heard that somewhere and it really stuck. Am I in the good old days right now? Seven months pregnant, busting my glutes to get all settled into this new apartment, still working, still training, still trying to keep up with where in the world my partner Steph is reporting from? (She's in Boston as I write this.) Are these "those" days? How do you know? And if they are, am I appreciating them enough? And if I'm not, how does one "appreciate" something more?
For months I thought pregnancy was the slowest process in the history of processes. There'd be an ultrasound every few weeks, a doctor visit here and there, the occasional baby kick. Steph would ask me when my bellybutton was going to pop (still hasn't), when my belly was going to show (um, that would be now), when we'd choose the baby's name (now that we can't use NORTH), when/if the baby's room would be finished (today, actually!) -- and I'd just look at her with an expression of, "I don't know ... a few years, maybe?"
But guess what? It happened. And it happened hard. I thought 40 weeks of being pregnant was a lifetime. Now I'm 8 weeks away from my due date. Somehow, some way, the time gets passed. There's a great saying, ”The years teach much which the days never know.”' I'm sure I'll look back on this year and marvel at how fast it all went.. but tonight, right now, at this very moment ... snail's pace.
How I’ll retell the story years from now:
Me: Hey Steph, I'm pregnant! We're having a baby!
Me: In 9 months.
Steph: Man, that seems like forever from now, doesn't it?
Me: Soooo, I'm in labor.
Like I said, Steph is away tonight, and the apartment is quiet, save for Game 6 of Bruins/Blackhawks. Is this one of those nights I should be appreciating? No crying baby, no diaper changes, no feedings, no baby drama whatsoever (except the occasional gymnastics routine this little one is doing in my belly). I guess I just answered my own question. But I WANT all those things. I'm READY for all those things. I've done the quiet night at home for years now.
I guess we all just want what we all don't have.
My brother and sister in law, who have two small kids, are constantly running from one activity to another with those kids -- activities and camp and school and the park and Costco and and and ... All the while, I'm quietly sitting somewhere (wild exaggeration), often times looking for plans. He keeps telling me to prepare for life after kids. I keep telling him I can't wait.
If I were 10 years younger, I'd understand the concept of enjoying the time before adding a child to the mix. But I'm reaching the end of my 30s. I've done all the fun, fearless things I wanted to do. And now, with the biggest adventure of them all right in front of me, I honestly think I'm ready. I don't need anymore “alone” time. Steph and I are excited to start parenthood.
I won't know which days are really the “good old days” for years to come, but if these are them, I couldn't be happier.