2:02 p.m., Saturday, September 28.

It’s our last weekend as a family of three, but time doesn’t stand still — there’s still life to be lived, savored. Though insomnia kept me up from 11 PM – 3:30 AM this morning, we had a jam-packed morning with swimming lessons and brunch with friends. When we get home, Maya naps and I follow her lead.

Luis had left for his make-up racquetball game, so there is no lawn-mower humming in the yard. Rocco is sound asleep near the front door, so there is no barking for water or a treat. And, at least for the next five days, there is no crying baby here demanding of me.

When I wake on my own accord an hour later, the house is completely silent. Early autumn sunlight is streaming through the tall windows of our new living room and the only sound I hear is the gentle rustling of trees in the breeze.

I lay there, hand on my belly, caressing the giant mount that, in a matter of days, will be [somewhat] gone … imagining the face and personality of the little person burrowed inside me. I lay there, stuck in a dream-like state for who knows how long; time really doesn’t matter today.

And then my reverie is interrupted by two shuffling bare feet across the kitchen tile and the sweetest little voice saying, “My babies are cold. They need their blankies.” And just like that, I’m pulled from the dream-like state of wonder into the here-and-now, where my 2.5 year old needs me. Where I love feeling needed.

I smile at her, roll myself off the couch, and join her on a baby-blanket hunting spree all around the house til we find just what she is looking for.

Anything to make this little girl of mine happy. Her whole world is about to be rocked, and it’s my job as her mama to be there to help her through.

The silence, beautiful while it lasted, has been filled in the best way possible.


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