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...

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...

After 5 pregnancies and 4 babies, I am well aware of how the body changes postpartum. My body grows large babies and stretches unbelievable amounts. I know that it takes months to lose the belly. How in the days immediately proceeding birth my body feels oddly empty as my organs begin to rearrange into their usual places. The way it takes weeks for the uterus to return to prepregnancy size. How weeks and even months post birth my ligaments are still loose from the effects of relaxin. How the postpartum hormones can make the mind crazy. It still manages to surprise me each time. 3 weeks ago, I started this postpartum journey for the last time. I am well aware that I'm postpartum, but for some reason, I keep forgetting. This birth just went so much better (birth story to come soon, I promise!) and my body literally feels 100 times better than it has felt after any of my previous births. Even my postpartum belly has gone down a lot faster than previously. Instead of looking 7 months ...

Waiting. I'm not so good at waiting. My guess date has come and gone and I feel like I'm in the twilight zone. We are in a holding pattern now. Every morning I wake up in disbelief that I am still pregnant. As if I would have magically forgotten about giving birth in my sleep or something.  And so we wait. And wait. And wait some more. Every twinge, every random contraction makes me wonder if that's the start. One second I feel like I should be "doing all the things" to get labour moving, and the next I remember that I need to rest so that when labour does happen I will have the energy to bring this baby girl earthside. This isn't new to me. I had to wait with both A and L. It's just as hard to wait the third time around. I have spent almost this entire third trimester feeling mostly calm and ready to wait for the day that baby girl chooses as her birthday. Since my guess date has passed, however, my impatience has risen up to new levels. And yet,...

Dear Pregnancy, We need to talk.  I'm breaking up with you. That's right. It's over. Please pack up your stuff and exit my life at your earliest convenience. Preferably today. It's not you, it's me. I swear. Okay, it's not me either. It's what you do to me. The heartburn. The heaviness. The emotions. The difficulty in not losing my temper over minuscule things. The back pain. The having to pee a million times in a day. The not being able to lay on my belly. The struggling to put on shoes or socks. The pain of a baby on top of my pubic bone. The feeling of my hips as they widen to allow for birth. The slow, slow, slow walking. The pain of carrying this heavy belly everywhere. The inability to walk up a set of stairs without having to rest. The anticipation of wondering when labour will walk through the door. The longing to meet this baby girl. You really, really aren't good for my mental health.  It's too much. ...

This is my last pregnancy. When this baby girl finally makes her appearance, there will be a closed forever sign on this baby making factory. I just can't fathom getting through one more third trimester, let alone a whole other pregnancy. Don't get me wrong. I am in awe of how a woman's body can grow a human being from two tiny cells. The miracle of life is happening right now inside my body. How is that not amazing?? But not everything is amazing about pregnancy. Sure, some women get that glow and breeze through pregnancy like they are a graceful queen gliding through a crowd of people. Their hair is always luscious and their skin is flawless. Their energy levels never drop below nesting level and they never stare into a porcelain throne. I'm sure these women are few and far between though. I know that I am certainly not one of them. And I would wager a bet to say that most women have moments where pregnancy is just plain awful. There are moments (long moments som...