“When will we get pregnant?” Waiting, testing, negative again. Friends announcing, happy tears My despair grows until Finally, one day Two lines appear. “When will the baby arrive?” Morning sickness, more like all day sickness. Aches, heartburn, and stretch marks Preparing, nesting until Finally, one day My water breaks. “When will she sleep at night?” Midnight feedings, sleepless nights Bone weary fatigue Barely functioning until Finally, one day A glorious six hour stretch. “When will she talk?” Can’t wait to converse With this tiny human we’ve made. Say ‘mama’, say ‘dada’ We repeat over and over until Finally, one day She speaks. “When will she walk?” Sitting up, crawling and standing Clapping with our arms outstretched Encouraging her until Finally, one day One, two, three steps. “When will she potty train?” Big girl undies, Princess potty seat Accidents and reward charts until Finally, one day No more diapers. “When will she learn to read?” Wake up and get dressed Picture taken before heading out Waiting for the bus until Finally, one day She heads off to her first day of school. In a blink, she’s turned five. Another blink, she’s fifteen. The years fly by until Finally, one day She’s grown and leaves home. And I wish I had never Impatiently wished For time to rush by.