meditations of a blueberry

We've always planned to have four children. From the very first conversations we had about kids before we were even married. But the decision of when to have a fourth child wasn't so much a decision as it was a "let's just do this now" random comment after having lost my job. Never in my wildest dreams did I think that it would happen so quickly. I wasn't even at the start of my cycle when we started trying, and yet, I still got pregnant that cycle. Apparently, this child was destined to join our family. And now, at 36 weeks pregnant, I find myself wondering what the heck I got myself into. How on earth am I supposed to manage four children (under six years of age!) while Mr Blueberry heads back to work a (very) short 3 days after she is born? I am starting to realize how much I took him having the summers off after our other three were born for granted. No wonder I found those transitions easy! I didn't have to worry about my older kids and could just lo...

Assuming all goes to plan, this will be my third home birth. Lately, I've been retreating into myself more and more as I begin the journey to prepare myself for birthing this baby. With A , I had no idea what to expect after a tough hospital birth and just went with the flow. With L, I wore some serious rose coloured glasses, believing that because I had experienced home birth before that I would be able to achieve a quiet and empowering birth. Ha! That wasn't even remotely close to actual events. This time? This time I'm being more realistic. This time my glasses are clear. I have given birth 3 times before. Each time, I yell. I scream. I swear like a trucker. I constantly say that I can't do it. No matter what my intentions are going in. No matter how much my midwife, doulas, and husband tell me otherwise. I am most certainly not the picture of calm and serenity that some women are in birth (seriously, how do they do it?!). I do not breathe my babies into the wo...

This too shall pass. Enjoy every moment. Time flies. Bullshit. Yes, that's right. I call bullshit. Okay, okay. I am guilty of saying the first thing. Often. And it is usually my go to advice for pretty much anything. And really, it is true and I do regularly find myself muttering it throughout the day. But can we just be real for a moment? In the thick of the foggy years that consist of small children, often I just don't freaking want to hear that. I know it's true. I know. But sometimes, when the day has gone downhill at 160 km/hr from the moment I opened my eyes and all I want to do is to swim in a pool filled with wine, "this too shall pass" sounds like bullshit. I just don't want to hear it. Instead, I wanna hear "let me pour you another" or "dude, me too" or "kids can be such jerks." And don't get me started on enjoying every moment. I don't want to enjoy every moment. There are moments I woul...

It could be said that 2015 was the year of lessons. Hard lessons. Several lessons that brought me to my knees in despair. Lessons that required me to challenge ideas and realize hard truths about myself. Lessons that forced growth. Some lessons that I'm fairly certain life has tried to teach me before through friends and family, but I wasn't listening then. I've always been a kinesthetic learner, so I suppose that it took me actually experiencing life to truly learn them. 2015 certainly didn't turn out the way I had thought it would.  The loss of three grandparents. The loss of not only just my job, but a company that I truly believed was making a difference. Moving to another city. A major change in government, both provincially and federally. Deciding to have a fourth baby and getting pregnant seemingly minutes later. Finding out this fourth baby is (supposedly) a girl. So much change, so many lessons.  So in no particular order, here are the lessons that 2015 bro...