We fell back on Sunday morning. Not only did we turn our clocks back an hour, but our little household seems to have fallen back into the lethargy of colder months. The sun is still deceptively warm, but it's already set by the end of the work day, taunting us with its glow only when it's least convenient for us to step outside and feel it kiss our upturned faces.
It's probably a coincidence—we're busy, overwhelmed. Downright stressed. And yet, after just two days of daylight savings time, we've become more quiet, more still. Withdrawn. Hibernation—our form of it—is on the horizon.
The earlier sunset draws my focus to time and how quickly it passes. It feels a bit naive to remark it, but boy, I mean, really. Time is flying, punctuated by flutters and firm kicks in my swelling belly, which seems to be growing at a speed usually reserved for time-lapse nature videos.
The thing is, I thought I would have more time. Not more than 40 weeks, just more time carved from within those weeks. There are so many things I have left to do, things that have little with preparing for this baby but that I feel I need to do, like reorganizing closets and that annoyingly-shaped cabinet under our kitchen sink. There are splotchy white patches on our bedroom wall that need to be painted. There's the bag of summer clothes I've been meaning to carry to storage. I've been meaning to do it for so long that I can remember how much smaller this baby was when I set the bag aside. My back hurt less then. I'll let Colin do it.
There are so many things I wanted to do during this pregnancy. I thought I would take long walks alone in the September sun. I thought I would take a prenatal yoga class. I thought I would cook more (and eat less frozen pizza). I thought I would play piano—Shostakovich and Beethoven and Chopin—for the baby to hear. I wanted to read more books, to write more. I wanted to meditate.
We only have just over 100 days until our due date. I feel like I'm running out of time.
I know I shouldn't be too hard on myself. As I write this, I'm sitting at our kitchen island with my journal beside me. I have banana bread in the oven. I can do some stretching before work. Baby steps, right?