meditations of a blueberry

Miss A turns 2 tomorrow. We have moved out of babyhood, and are fully into toddlerhood. For the first time, I will have a 2 year old without a newborn. And I gotta say, it is loads easier dealing with toddlers when you don't have a newborn or giant belly to carry around too. I don't know how I did it. How did I ever manage to get through the days? There were some dark days. Some days that I am not sure how I made it through. But I did. And now I have my last baby officially exiting the baby years. I look over to her sleeping on the couch, and I realize that soon the naps, the diapers, the breastfeeding, and the babywearing will all slowly disappear. One day, I'll realize that she hasn't nursed in weeks. That she hasn't asked to go "uppy" in months. That she hasn't napped in weeks. We have passed so many last firsts, and now so many last lasts are on the horizon. The last time she asks for "nannies." The la...

My body is in a holding pattern. Six months later and my body is still very much postpartum. And why shouldn't it be? Six months ago my body was growing an 11 lb 6 oz baby. My fourth. My third large baby. Of course my body has not "bounced back." It shouldn't. And I shouldn't expect it to. My body has done an amazing thing. It has grown and nourished 4 babies. It has stretched to unbelievable sizes to accomodate large babies. It doesn't need to bounce back. It needs to be loved. It needs me to love it. This body is mine. It's not perfect but it's mine. It's a soft place to land for my kids. These strong arms lift up and fly my kids around the room. These legs carry my body about my day. This still round belly is the perfect place for the baby to snuggle into. Eventually I will heal my diastasis. I may or may not lose the weight. I may or may not fit into my smaller clothes. It doesn't matter. The future doesn't matter. I will not put my ...

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...

Miss A is almost 7 weeks old. Last week, we had our final midwife appointment. It was  bittersweet. I've come to think of my midwife as a trusted friend. For over 4 years, she's been a part of my life and has seen me through some of my most vulnerable times. At my appointment, I got the glorious news that there are no signs of uterine prolapse. Hallulujah! But all is not good. My ab diastasis has worsened to the point of possibly requiring surgery. And I developed an umbilical hernia. Of course pregnancy couldn't just leave me with stretch marks and extra weight. But  suppose that's what happens when you grow an 11 lb 6 oz baby. Don't get me wrong. My body has done amazing things. It has grown, birthed, and nourished 4 beautiful children. It provides warm, soft hugs to those children when they are hurt and lifts them up when they fall down. It has carried those children when their legs get tired. It has stayed awake when it so desperately wanted to sleep to comfort...

http://theydonttellyou.wordpress.com/2012/04/12/there-are-only-two-days-in-every-week/ There is a secret about motherhood that nobody really talks about. Sure, moms will talk about it with each other. You'll hear them whispering about it in the corners of Starbucks when they manage to get out for a coffee date without any kids. You'll hear them talking a little more loudly about it as kids run around their legs at the local playground. You'll see new moms on message boards wondering if they are alone in dealing with it. You may even see hints of it when you look into their eyes. It's a dark secret that a new mom will try to deny for months and months. It's a secret that will make her cry, yell, and feel awful. It's a secret that will make her wonder if something is wrong with her, or if it's her kids. It's a secret that shouldn't be kept. Moms-to-be should know this secret. They should be prepared so that when it happens, they aren't hit with...