Four years ago, the countdown to the Summer Olympics coincided with the countdown to the boys’ birth. With a planned C-section set for August 12 (Joaquín was breach), and the Olympics starting auspiciously on 8/8/08, I knew I could go into labor any time.
Uncomfortable from the weight gain and swelling, I propped myself up on our couch like a car on blocks. At night, I couldn’t sleep, so I watched the Games in China. These late night sessions prepared me for my own Olympic competition of sleep deprivation, which I haven’t completely recovered from and probably won’t for years to come.
As I watch Gabby Douglas, Allyson Felix, and Missy Franklin, I can’t quite believe how different my life is from the previous Olympics. At the 2008 Games, our house was filled with cloth diapers, baby layettes, and tiny bottles. Now, cribs have been passed down to our nanny’s daughter, baby clothes have been given away to Goodwill, and pedal bikes stand in the garage. We’ve made it through the “terrible twos” and are days away from completing the “trying threes.”
I always looked forward to the summer Olympics, but now, they seem more like a symbol to where we’ve been and a signpost to what’s ahead.
What marks your life?