Time has the habit of tricking you into thinking you have lots of it when in fact it's speeding by at a rate of knots. I've just seven weeks left until my due date. To me, the eternal dawdler, that still seems like ages, but there's a little voice in my head telling me that that seven weeks will fly by, which of course it will.
Seven weeks of no baby to nurse.
Seven weeks of no nappies to change.
Seven weeks of relative peace at night.
Seven weeks of being able to take the escalator in department stores.
Seven weeks of having time alone.
Seven weeks of having space to think.
Seven weeks of no tiny toes and fingers.
Seven weeks until the most miraculous thing happens and another human being joins us here on this planet to enjoy this life with us.
Seven weeks until I fall in love again.
Seven short weeks.