meditations of a blueberry

I've always wanted a big family. For as long as I can remember, I've dreamed about hearing all those little feet running around my home. Mrblueberry and I agreed to four. So, when A was born I didn't have any doubt that we would try again after a couple of years. We thought the ideal spread would be three years between A and baby three. Fourteen months later and my nephew I is born. I'm smitten by the pictures and can't get enough. I haven't even met the sweet, little squish, and I'm in love! I realize I'm ready to start trying, a year earlier than planned. Mrblueberry agrees. But then, I spend the next month unsure about that decision and, on more than one occasion, think that maybe I am okay with just two children. I think that maybe I don't want more than two and maybe I can only handle two children.  What happened next, I did not expect. For both boys, it took seven months of trying to be successful. Seven months of charting and planning. Sev

Being pregnant is a time like no other. It is wonderful and beautiful and scary and ugly all at the same time. There are changes happening to your body and to your mind. You're confused, amazed, determined, and trying to make the best decisions possible. And people throw information and opinions at you like they would throw water on you if you were on fire. Seriously. Being pregnant is like an invitation for hearing someone's opinion . Opinions that all start with "you should" or "you shouldn't." And what happens with all these opinions? They permeate your brain and without you even knowing it, they poison you. You start thinking "I shouldn't eat this," "I shouldn't need a nap," "I should feel this way," "I shouldn't feel this way," "I shouldn't wear this," etc, etc, etc. It's impossible to get away from, and truthfully, it continues far into motherhood. I often find myself thinking

I have a lot to be thankful for. I have family and friends who love me, children who are healthy and growing, a warm house to come home to, food on my table and in my belly. I've experienced hardship and loss, but I am still standing. No matter the dark forest that my life road has taken me through, I have emerged, sometimes beaten and bruised, but still alive.  I've written several times about my postpartum depression these past few months, and how I've finally found myself again after many months of not knowing where to look. There were many dark days. More than I care to admit. But no matter how dark the days seemed, my friends and family were always there shining a light and reaching out to help support me. In the darkest of times, a word, a hug, a smile that said "I'm here" helped to light the way. They picked me up and carried me when I had barely the strength to open my eyes. I'm not sure they realized the strength they gave to me by just remin