When you think about something happening in a year from now, it feels like it will take forever for that day to arrive. When you find out you’re pregnant, knowing you will only get to meet your little person in nine months is almost unbearable. But realizing this morning that I only have six weeks left at home with my Thomas is breaking my heart. My life changes (for the second time in a year) on March 12.
I know I’m incredibly lucky to have had an entire year to spend with him (unlike the Misguided Parent), but now that this precious time is coming to an end, I want to head back to the day when my stomach was the first thing that entered the room (followed by my boobs, and then my face). I want to go back to the first moment I held him, knowing I would have a million other moments just like this one. I realize this isn’t the end of my like with Thomas, but it’s the end of my life as I’ve come to know it.
Have I been too spoiled to have such an awesome kid to hang out with? Maybe if he was a horrible child this would be easier. Or maybe, if I only spent six weeks with him it wouldn’t be so hard to let someone else take care of him while I head off to work, Uhh…… All I know is the past 46 weeks have gone by fairly slowly and that the next six will be gone in a flash.