Life in Fast Forward

I decided to go part-time at my job, which is a big deal for me, and it is now week two of this new phase of my life. I am working on a book about my experience with my son, and as much as I really want to write this book, sometimes it just seems so much more fun to read other people's blogs or google some inane item that I could really care less about but at the moment it seems like I really needed to know.

And life races on.

Two weeks have gone by so fast, like when you go on vacation and it seems like it's over before it has even begun. The nice thing about this whole part-time gig is that I don't feel so guilty about leaving my son every day and spending an hour in traffic just to get to an office where some of the people I work with are more childish than my two-year-old. Did I mention that those are the men? I guess I really didn't have to.

It scares me a little (no, a lot) how fast life goes. I think back to when I was pregnant with my son and it seemed like I blinked and suddenly we had a baby. But during those nine months, it's as if someone stopped every clock in my house and taught the minute hand to slow to a crawl. Now, though, it saddens me that time has flown. I was 35 when I got pregnant, I am turning 38 next week, and suddenly I feel old. I feel as if I have no business trying to have another child, as if I was given a window of time and it is closing up. Whenever I see a pregnant woman, I am always covertly staring at her, trying to see how old she is, trying to guess if she has beaten time. The young mothers don't bother me so much, it's the older women, the ones who probably struggled with getting pregnant. I can see the victory in their faces, in their bellies. I can see that they won. And I envy that. I envy them their glorious, victorious bodies that are so carefully nurturing a child.

Perhaps, as everyone says, there is a plan. I just keep feeling lately that I have somehow karmically pissed someone off and they rewrote my plan.