thoughts late in the 30th year

Last night while I was changing for bed, I caught sight of myself in the full length mirror down the darkened hall. While I have inspected my body mercilessly since giving birth, I suppose I have always prepared myself. Engaged my abs just a smidge, stood up a wee bit straighter, and congratulated myself on having made it through pregnancy relatively unscathed. There, unready, I saw someone else. Someone older than the teenager I still see when I look in the mirror of my mind. But it was me standing there with a round, soft belly, saggy bottom on legs that I have always thought sturdy. I suppose I'll formulate a plan of attack someday soon and may even begin it: yoga, swimming, maybe some pilates. But they won't bring the time back, will they?