I leave for three weeks today. Last night I walked around my house feeling the weight of that. When I get back I’ll be 34 weeks along. Most likely I’ll have plenty of time when I get back before the baby comes, but maybe I won’t. Last night I thought to myself, this could be the last time Steve and I are together in our house alone; this could be the last time I meander from room to room aimlessly and unwatched. Going from no full-time kids to a new baby isn’t something that goes unnoticed. And as much as we’ve been wanting it, I have moments where I grieve the transition out of this life that we love. I awoke and the sky was a fall sky, white-gray, so unlike summer, and Steve and I were alone and sleeping in a bit too late and the house was quiet. There was nothing we needed to do, just feel connected before the day sweeps us up. Sometimes we just get those ten minutes between the alarm sounding and sounding again before we’re off doing whatever it is we do in our days, those ten minutes to heal any possible rift quietly, just holding one another half-asleep, our higher selves doing the work of connecting and mending for us. I’ll miss those moments when the baby comes. I’ll miss moments like last night, Steve on his computer and me wandering about the house, packing and sorting and cleaning and drawing, time very still, every problem seemingly solvable, my brain relatively intact, well-rested and self-contained.

The leaves before I go:

November 1st, 2009 | Category: house | Subscribe to comments | Leave a comment | Trackback URL