I swore off coffee for the whole first trimester of this pregnancy. Not even one drop. Then only decaf for the whole second trimester. And now that we're nearing the end, I allow myself one cup. One very small cup. And most of the time I can't finish it. Talk about change. But I make it anyway, out of habit and something for breakfast before making my way to the computer. Emails, blogs, posts, facebook, I check it all and stay up to date. And on some mornings, I feel more inclined to share with the world, and some writing happens.
My body and my mind work so much slower in these final days of baby carrying. I bounce on an exercise ball instead of an office chair, hoping it will bring baby boy a little closer to meeting us. My thoughts are sluggish and I usually forget what I started doing, or typing, or...what was the point of this sentence? My coffee gets cold by the time I go to take another sip, but trudging my body back to the kitchen to heat it up would just take too much energy, so I sip it cold, or forget about it.
These mornings are slow, and quiet, and so beautiful. They are short-lived. It blows my mind when I think these are the last few mornings of my life that will be this quiet and this personal and this peaceful. I relish in them and soak them in, and then go lay down for a little while because while I've done nothing all morning, my body is aching again and because, well, because for right now, I can.