meditations of a blueberry

When you are pregnant, you are not only adding a tiny human to your family. You are adding love and laughter and joy. You are adding anxiety and frustration and tears. You are adding moments of sunshine and moments of rain. But most of all, you are adding laundry. Yes, laundry. It is amazing how much laundry one tiny human produces. And if you don't keep up with it, if you let it go a few days without thinking about it, suddenly Mount Laundry becomes a new planet and you can't even find the washing machine because it is covered in tiny baby onesies and mismatched socks and muddy pants and underwear that makes you question if your child even wiped when they went to the bathroom that day. And then it becomes baskets upon baskets of clean laundry that require folding only to be unfolded when the bigs attempt to put their own laundry away and then worn again and the cycle repeats itself again. It's like Groundhog Day but with laundry. And while laundry does work just like t

Yesterday marked 10 weeks since my sweet Miss A joined us earthside. 10 weeks of wonder at being the mama of baby girl. 10 weeks filled with bittersweet moments. 10 weeks filled with firsts. 10 weeks filled with lasts. Her first smiles were my last first smiles. Her first laughs were my last first laughs. Her first coos were my last first coos. It's a funny thing, this last experience of having a new baby. Even though my soul knows my family is complete, I feel an ache in the deepest depths of my being knowing that these are my last firsts. I find myself longing to experience those first slippery moments of newborn squish again or to feel those sweet kicks in my belly that only I felt. And yet, I do not actually want to be pregnant again. In no uncertain terms, my body says no. But then there are those moments where I feel The Ache. I've read about The Ache before (if you haven't, click here and do it --I'll wait). I've heard my friends who are past the baby stage