I’ve been counting my life in weeks since May. It’s been a flurry–things that were months ago suddenly seem like they were yesterday or, on the other extremes, years ago.

It hasn’t been that many weeks since we left Cambridge, but my time there is already starting to fade. But then a crisp memory will rise up and it will seem unfathomable that we’re not there right now, because surely the rawness of that memory means we were there just yesterday.

When I got the positive pregnancy test it felt as though time would drag–January seemed so far away, so insurmountable. It did drag. I felt so grateful at the end of the week that I made it through. I remember those feelings so vividly, especially when coupled with being so sick and the terror that this pregnancy wouldn’t last, couldn’t last. Now, months later, it seems as though I’ll be waking up any day now with my daughter in a bassinet because if Christmas decorations are already out, then January is just around the corner.

We scheduled my shower in August. At that point November seemed excruciatingly far away, and somewhere in the back of my head, I felt like I was possibly jinxing the pregnancy by being optimistic enough to plan one. November is almost here, and my shower is two weeks from today, which is unbelievable to me. Registering seemed very time consuming, but after loads of research and comparing, it’s done. Anything else is just bonus, really.

Pregnancy has distorted my sense of time, it seems. It’s probably the only time I’ll count my life in weeks, counting ahead to milestones. I couldn’t wait for 13 weeks and the escape from the first trimester, then 24 weeks for viability, then 28 weeks for even more viability and the third trimester. Now that I’m settling into the third trimester, the next milestone is less than four weeks away at 32 weeks. I’m at the point where I have to go to the doctor every two weeks, and that makes the chunks of time to my due date seem less huge because there are only three or four of those, and then a few weekly appointments. I don’t have many milestones left–just appointments with my doula, a birthing class, breastfeeding class, a dental appointment (exciting, no?), and some other hodgepodge sorts of things. There’s a lot of time to rest, and a lot of time to freak myself out with nonsense to-do lists!

I just hope Hannah’s first year doesn’t pass as quickly as the last few months. Is it possible to feel nostalgic in advance? Is there a word for that?

I’ll leave it there–Christmas is basically tomorrow, you know, so I need to get busy shopping.