Today we awoke to temps in the 30s, gray skies and wet pavement. Suddenly, the trees that appeared so cheerful and bright in yesterday’s sun seemed mocking and garish. The heat was turned on and long sleeves found. We baked cookies – dozens and dozens – and turned our school day upside down to stay near the kitchen with it’s warmth and smells and comfort.

I needed it.

Today marked the two month countdown to our due date. Yes, I know that this is a rough estimate – oh how I know! But I also know that this time of year is filled with good things and lists and errands that make normal life tricky, but while planning for a baby? It leaves me speechless and a little frantic. I also know, after some gripping contractions on Saturday, that God has a timeline for this baby that may not reach through Advent OR might stretch well past the New Year.

In the meantime, I count eight weeks. Eight weeks to clean and plan and shop and nest. Eight weeks to get used to the cold and biting wind, the sure sign of the return of the hibernating season. Eight weeks until our first ever Christmas at home and maybe our first Christmas with this baby.

Eight weeks.