I have spent the better part of my life wishing it away in a sense. Wishing for time to pass quickly. Waiting for my 16th, 18th, 21st birthday. Waiting for the next summer break, for finals to be over, for vacations, to get the word on a new job, to get the bar over with. And more recently that wish has been more acute. Waiting to ovulate, waiting to see if DH will be on board when the time comes, waiting for the time to test and then waiting twelve weeks for that first ultrasound in 2009. I thought it would kill me. And then, as if the universe was chiding 'you ain't seen nothing yet' there became a wait to try again. And again I hadn't suffered enough and it became a wait to find out what was wrong with me? Was it cancer? And then a wait to recover. And then the mother of all waits to try again. Then, pregnant and waiting again, this time with angst and fear at the wheel, for each ultrasound, each test, each milestone, to find out - is he okay?
For the first time in years, and particularly in the last two years, I am wishing for time to slow down. I feel like a completely different person, I've never held 'the moments in between' in such regard. I want to live in them forever. They aren't without anxiety and they are plagued by sleep deprivation and back pain and isolation, but if I could do nothing else for the rest of my life I would be happy. I am happy. It's a strange transition, hoping for time to stop. And it's frustrating to have people telling you that having kids is like hitting fast forward on your life. And the absolutely constant reminders to remember every moment, take lots of pictures 'cause it all goes by so fast. I've tried that, every day I try - for example, the moments I tried to seize in the hospital, holding my tiny beautiful perfect newborn. Spending time alone with him, taking in his every movement, every feature, observing my every emotion, even when it was 4am and I'd had 6 hours of sleep in three days. Even then I prayed and yearned for time to stop like I've never hoped for anything before. But while this process and those times have taught me a lot about living in the moment, time still passed. Already he's not that tiny newborn anymore. I have a one-monther. And he's clearly grown. Which is great! But I already mourn the loss of those earlier moments.