My Facebook feed is a scroll of graduations: grade 8, high school, junior high. There’s a series of inevitable exclamation marks below the captions, women my age, the same sentiment, reworded:
How did that happen?
I remember the day she was born and now she’s in Grade 8?
So grown up. Time flies.
I went to elementary school with Jennifer and I remember that she invited me to her birthday party in grade 5 but not in grade 6, that she had a pair of much-coveted faux paint-splattered white jeans, that she was one of the girls who smoked in the bathroom in junior high. And today her photos are at the top of my Facebook stream, standing with the same mouth and eyes with her gigantically tall son who is graduating from high school.
My belly, ripe and mapped with blue-purple veins, pulsates with rippling feet and tiny limbs and I am expecting my third baby at a time when some women from my small hometown are becoming grandmas. When Nolan graduates high school, Jude will be in grade 5. Our daughter will be in grade 3. Sometimes it makes me want to put my head in a paper bag and other times I feel overwhelmed with the fact of my second chance at a full-fledged family, of messy Sunday omelettes and fuzzy masses of sweet-smelling toddler hair tickling my nose too early in the morning.
This is my third pregnancy but because I know with final certainty that it will be my last, I am noticing more. I stop to look when the roiling starts in my belly, when a kick extends down my loins and causes a startle of inside-out reflexes. I don’t begrudge the shooting-rocket belly button, the scribbly spider veins, the brand new cottage cheese, because they are battle marks and because they’re fleeting, like everything else.
If this were 2006 this would be a totally different blog post and I’d be writing the details about the last 5 months of our lives and then a string of comments would appear within minutes
Holy shit are you OK?
We’re thinking of you and sending positive vibes.
I am going through something exactly like this and thank you for sharing because I thought I was the only one.
You’re an asshole narcissist pin head and you brought this on yourself, bitch. (which is precisely the reason that compelling personal blogs no longer exist and you need to read about honest life grit in amazon memoirs)
It’s been a challenging few months, for sure, and that’s partially why I haven’t been writing here and partially why I need to start up again. Our baby girl will make her entrance on to this planet in 23 days exactly and I know her babyhood will be gone in a snap, that I will be 62 in a matter of minutes, that Nolan will be grinning down at me, a graduate, in the blink of an eye. And I don’t want to forget about any of it.
For those of you who aren’t friends with me on Facebook and may have missed it, I did an article last month for the Crossfit journal, and it’s here. I also have an article in the July issue of Today’s Parent magazine and I’m going to start doing more professional writing again too. I’m pretty stoked about an upcoming article I have for a national women’s magazine, too, and I’ll keep you posted here when that comes out as well.