This is an amazingly special time of year for me. First, I got baptized on January 26th...9 years ago! Crazy pants.
Then Elijah was born on January 27th, 2010. I can't believe he'll be TWO tomorrow.
THEN January 25th of last year, I found out I was pregnant with Abigail.
It's special because there are so many good things to reminisce about. I love thinking about how this time, 2 years ago, I was walking around 12 days overdue. I had a (big!) baby in my belly, and I was done with being pregnant. I'd been for a non-stress test and ultrasound that day and everything looked great. I had had my membranes stripped 3 times, and was still not showing any signs of activity. I made Matt take the long way home so that I could buy expensive specialty chocolates. I went shopping for a sewing machine with my mother-in-law, ate spicy food, and walked and walked. I honestly felt like I'd been pregnant forever, and that I'd BE pregnant forever. Then the next day changed my life. I love thinking about it, about every little second of it, even the seconds of agony as I waited, feared, hoped and dreamed about what was to come.
Then last year. I have memories surrounding when I found out I was pregnant, but for some reason it feels more distant than Elijah's birth and the time leading up to it. Maybe because when I found out I was pregnant again, we were in the midst of packing up our house and moving to a teeny apartment? It was joyful, though. I know that much. Surreal, yet joyful. Walking around knowing I was pregnant. Going to school, moving, visiting friends, going to church, all knowing the little hope and joy inside of me. The first few weeks of pregnancy were rocky thanks to my doctor interpreting the results of my bloodwork incorrectly, but after my 8-week ultrasound showing a healthy baby growing in my uterus and not my tubes, things began to ease up, and HOLY HANNAH I was pregnant again!
Oddly enough, the feelings of joy that I feel when reminiscing about this time of year also leave me feeling a little sad. You know, when you get to the end of a good day, and you're sad that it's over, even though there is the hope of good days to come? The times I'm reminiscing about were sweet, sweet memories, time that I would love to relive if I could. Instead I am here, 1, 2, and 9 years in the future, feeling this sense of dread almost, that I'm not enjoying the moment enough, that I'm not living in the now, that I'm going to look back on THIS time and with I could relive THESE moments.
I ache, like an actual physical ache when I look at old pictures and videos of Elijah. I'm not used to that little baby anymore! He has morphed into this big boy, this sweet, loveable, and entirely troublesome little toddler. Today is his last day as a 1-year old, his last day as a baby, and my heart hurts. How did he get so big on me? How did time fly by so fast? Where have I BEEN these last two years?
Then I look at Abigail and I feel even more determined to live in the moment. I feel so guilty for Elijah, for all first babies out there. It took time flying by without me living in the moment to learn to live in the here and now, so now I'll have more memories with Abigail as a baby, and more memories of Elijah now, but the lesson has been learned more for future kids than for Elijah himself. Does that make sense? I know I'm just talking gibberish now, and it's because I'm sitting here trying to not cry.
Oi. I'm feeling tired and emotional. So much so that it feels like PMS or pregnancy. Most likely it's because I'm nursing, and that's just messing with everything. I forget that so often! And now my little monster is awake, and wants up. I can hear him jumping in his crib, throwing his soothers on the floor one-by-one, and shrieking occasionally. Oh, how I love that little boy!
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