it's september

I remember sitting in the doctor’s office in mid-January thinking how far, far away September felt. Half of a very long winter, an entirely unprecedented spring, and most of an exhausting summer lay ahead before I’d meet the baby I had only just learned existed.

Most years, I get to September and wonder where the time has gone. And I still definitely have a sense of “We’re already here?”—but it’s dwarfed a bit by the overwhelming feeling that I’m still powering through the last hundred yards of a marathon. And not just because I’m enormously pregnant. I think 2020 has felt that way for a lot of us, and maybe it’ll be awhile before we catch our breaths.

I have heard from many parents who have gone before me that new babies slow life down, in a way. Things take longer to accomplish. There’s a lot of sitting, feeding, watching. A lot of repetition and routine. I didn’t used to like the sound of that, but after this year of chaos and uncertainty and busyness, I think I’m ready for slow.

Tomorrow is one week away from our due date. Everything is about to change. I tend to hate change, because it usually feels like a tornado ripping through the middle of life—but there have so many such storms in the last few years that I think, or I hope, I’m getting to be a little more resilient. (And with any luck, my cats are, too…)