Circa June 1st
Is it possible, at 18 or so weeks with your second child, to lose count of how far along you are? Because I’ve done it. And my brain is too tired to do the math. And I don’t really know what day or month it is, let alone how many weeks it’s been since our world was turned upside down by two pink lines.
Because life goes on outside the womb.
Summer came gently. The beach proved glorious. The Pickle started singing. And finished soccer. The house is still in disarray, waiting for a dedicated day, or weekend. Road trips. Groceries. Sweeping. Laundry. Day turns into night and night rolls into day.
And somewhere in the midst of all of that, without much thought or notice, a child is being created.
And thank goodness I don’t have to do any of that baby making work with my hands or my brain, because frankly, they’re full. Maxed out. And some days the only part of me that still has the room to grow is my tummy.
So here we are. 18 weeks or so… I’m really not sure.
I wrote out a to-do list today. Things I must get accomplished this summer. Before I go crazy. Before my house implodes with neglect.
Before my hands and my brain are really full!
You know… in 23 or 22 weeks…