“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.