Why D'You Do Me Like You Do?

I've officially hit the point in this pregnancy when the blessings of gestation just keep coming: aching joints, insomnia, tendency to forget one's brilliant blog ideas, and of course, the constant questioning of strangers as to my dwindling tolerance for fetus-toting. "Are you just over the whole pregnancy thing?" they ask. Or, "Bet you're ready for this to be over, huh?" Or, "Are you totally miserable yet?"

But the thing is, I'm not. Part of it is from having the good luck to have a relatively hassle-free pregnancy, but mostly it's because, as a second-time mom, I know what happens next. And this, right now? Is way, way easier.

It also helps (or not) that my every working day is filled with brand-new babies. I've never had the time to develop maternity amnesia. I see the squalling newborns, the fussy infants, the irascible toddlers. And perhaps more significantly, I see the brand-new moms and I can easily recall all the exhausted, tearful, swollen, puke-stained days of early motherhood. And the nights. Oh, the nights. We've only recently gotten to a point where Miss M stays in her own bed for most of the night, and now we're starting all over again. We've also, just in the last two weeks, hit a major bathroom milestone: Miss M has been using the bathroom just fine for quite some time, but it wasn't until this month that she started actually going by herself. I noted this to The Admiral the other day and he replied, "Yep, and just five more weeks until we start diapers again!"

Of course, I also have the benefit of hindsight, and the gift of knowing that, as impossibly long as the hours seem at 3am, a year or two really does go by quickly. I frequently tell new moms "The days are slow, but the months are fast," and it really is true. I'm trying to remind myself of that before those slow days arrive, so that I can do a better job of appreciating the positives of the baby time - the firsts, the snuggles, the complete symbiosis between mama and child - and less time frustrated about how long it will be until I can read an entire book or shower with the door closed.