And time moves on

On Wednesday, I will officially begin my second trimester.

I've already had my fair share of advice (though I've no doubt there is much more to come), and I've read a lot about pregnancy (and seen it close-hand through my sisters' and friends' experiences) but I have discovered something that, to date, I have never heard anyone else talk about.

Initially, I thought being pregnant was like the preface to a book, or an introductory section to a new chapter in life. A nine-month period of preparation, hopes and dreams, and tough physical challenges before the great miracle occurred. Then, Chapter One would begin with the sleepless nights and messy house; and time would all of a sudden speed up to a level that new mommies and daddies can never quite become accustomed too. I thought I would have nine months to get used to the thought of being a mom.

There is no preface.

The broken sleep has already begun, with the trips to the bathroom, the "can't get comfortable" tossing and turning, and the restless dreams. I often wonder, as I stumble into the bathroom at 2 a.m., what it will be like to walk the floors at this hour with my little one snuggled in my arms instead of nestled inside me. I listen to the quietness and think of what it will sound like when that quietness is broken not by my slippered footsteps on the bathroom tile, but by the hungry cries of a very tiny person.

The messy house has arrived. My energy reserves are no longer reserves, just barely enough to get me through the day. It seems whatever I can pull myself together to do only scratches the surface and has no real lasting effect. I am glad for this, in a way. It takes some getting used to, and I'd rather make my peace with it now (and figure out my strategies) before I'm busy getting used to other, more important things.

And time. Time has unexpectedly flown by and all of a sudden I realize that the treacherous three months I thought might never pass are all of sudden nearly gone, and those are three months that I will never live again. It's not like going to Disneyland, where you know you'll be back again some day. There will never again be a pregnancy quite like this one, and there will never be another first trimester for this child. What a wonder that is. The first of many moments that, while one is within it seem long, but after one has moved on, seem so fleeting and short.

So, these three things I will take to heart: treasure the quiet moments, even if they disturb your sleep. Let go of the small things, and focus on the greater opportunity at hand. And take time to stop, remember and record, for memories are precious and should be captured and savored and shared.

Always.