|Abbey, intrigued, watching the baby move|
On Thursday morning I was on all fours, trying to stretch various limbs while breathing correctly, using my pelvic floor muscles, and not losing my hip stability, when my Pilates instructor announced that there are only three weeks left of this term.
I sat straight up and just stared at her. She came over, looked me in the eye and said, "Megan, you're having a baby."
Holy smoke, Batman.
There are a few triggers that the baby isn't far from arriving. First is the school term; when I enrolled into this term of Pilates I wrote the dates into my diary and realised that the end of term would mark two weeks from my due date. Then there's the season: spring is here today - the time of year that our baby will be born. Abbey's birthday is next week - a date I'm using to help her understand how much longer until she can meet her little sibling. "When you turn four, it won't be long!"
And then there's Steve's trip. I hadn't realised how little I was thinking about the upcoming addition to our family, and how much I was focusing on those two weeks he was away. Now he's back and, well, the next big event is looming upon us.
All these events, points somewhere far off in the distance, have hit - all at the same time.
That moment in Pilates, those completely obvious words, made me realise. Only five more weeks until we meet our little one.
Five short weeks.
Best I get back to focusing on those pelvic floor muscles.