If you tell me I have nine months to finish a task, my first response is, āNine months? Thatās it? How about nine years? Can I have that?ā
Under normal conditions, nine months squirt by like nine minutes. Weāre already on edition 20 of 25 of 2016. Edition one feels like yesterday. Weāre a little less than three months outside the unbelievable-sounding year of 2017. And weāre about to change over presidents, which wouldnāt seem so shocking if it wasnāt the end of Obamaās second term. He was elected eight years ago. Eight! Thatās like five minutes.
As everyone knows, the older you get the faster time slips by…except when youāre waiting for a baby to be born. Then it practically slows to a halt, which Iām starting to think might be the calm before the storm.
The other day, I caught sight of my wife walking down the stairs. She wore a tight top, looked very pregnant, and my first thought was, āMy god, youāre still pregnant?ā Itās getting cold out again, and sheās been pregnant since the last time it was cold. Weāve literally transitioned through three seasons, and the baby still isnāt here. Iāve even experienced recall of instances that Iām startled to realize occurred after my wife got pregnant because the memory seems so distant.
In the time my wife has been pregnant, Iāve had a birthday, two family members have died, the newspaper celebrated another anniversary, my niece got engaged, I think a nephew graduated college (it all gets fuzzy at this point), another Olympics came and went, and a damn rocket launched a Sun City residentās writing into space. NASA even added another sign to the Zodiac chart, seriously screwing up dating apps all across the world (it turns out Iām a Taurus not a Gemini…as if). And my wife is still pregnant.
Iām not certain I remember her being āunpregnant.ā It seems to be a permanent condition at this point, and weāre two lunatics roaming around our house, talking to my wifeās belly, which bubbles with movement constantly.
At the time of writing this, my wife is 35 weeks pregnant (feels like 350). If heās born sometime in the term range heāll be here in two to five weeks, concepts that are like tectonic plates working against each other. On one hand, I think that time might pick up and fly by. On the other, that may as well be a year from now. Whatās really blowing my mind is next time I write Happy Trails, it most likely will be with a baby laying across my lap, perhaps kicking happily at the sound of my typing because in utero he apparently likes that sound (thatās my boy!). Or he hates it!
What else has slowed are the quotes you readers have seemed to enjoy. By 35 weeks thereās not much else to say, but Iāll leave you with a few of my wifeās winners over the last stages of her pregnancy.
Talking about him moving inside her: āI think he just turned into the Hulk.ā
Having a conversation about being excited to find out what his favorites will be (food, song, color, etc…),
Me: āWhich parent do you think will be his favorite?ā I was joking.
āIs that really a question?ā She meant herself. She was not joking.
Telling me again how sad sheāll be when heās not in her belly anymore (between tears): āItās the second saddest thing ever.ā
Me: āWhatās the first?ā
āWhen Ruppy [our dog] died.ā
Me: āI donāt like where this conversationās going.ā
Talking about all the blood tests sheās taken during pregnancy: āTheyāre taking all my blood. Thatās all they do. Iām surprised I have any left.ā
Apparently time has not slowed so much for my wife because this is what she said about time moving during her pregnancy: I donāt know what happened. Suddenly it went from three months [to delivery] to three weeks. And why is my laundry not done yet?ā