meditations of a blueberry

As the sun prepares to set on another August 1, I sit alone in my thoughts surrounded by people I love. And though I know the love is true and that I'm not alone, I feel guilty. Guilt for forgetting. I almost forgot the date. Eight years ago, August 1 marked the beginning of the end . I almost forgot today. I almost forgot that we found out that the life that we were so eagerly expecting was not to be eight years ago today. When I realized that today was the anniversary of that awful weekend , my heart seized. The guilt began to seep into my brain. The tears flowed from my soul. How could I forget? For eight years, I have sadly anticipated August 1, reliving the pain through my memories. Wondering if there was something I could have done, though I know there was nothing. Remembering the moments of fear until it was finally confirmed. This year, I thought about it a few times throughout July, and then completely forgot. I think about it often, but usually this time o...

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...

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...

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...

I have 3 boys. I wouldn't trade them for anything in the world. They regularly melt my heart the only way a son can, and frustrate me in all of the other ways any child can. I love them with all of my heart and soul. We never once "tried for a girl." But, if you think for a second that I did not feel an ounce of disappointment at any of our ultrasounds, you'd be sorely mistaken.  From the time I was very young, I dreamed of having a girl. I picked out names that I loved and imagined all of the fun things we would do. I pictured helping get her into her wedding dress and holding her babies. When I was 16, I wrote a letter and sealed it to my future daughter at her 16th birthday. That was 16 years ago this upcoming April. I want to know what I wrote so badly, but I keep it hidden away for the future. And then I married a man who comes from a family of mostly boys.  When I had my first son, I fell in love. He took my heart that I willingly gave him. He was a sur...

There is something about the last weeks of pregnancy that just reinforces that sometimes you must give up control and sometimes you truly just do not have any control at all. Analyzing every twinge and tightening as you await labour to start only makes things more clear. Waiting for labour truly reminds us of how we are not in any way in control of this thing called life. Oh, we try. We try to control it with so-called natural induction techniques. Drink red raspberry leaf tea. Go for walks. Use evening primrose oil. Get an induction massage. Have sex. Eat spicy food. Eat fresh pineapple.  Drink castor oil (do not actually do that!). There's so many old wives' tales for naturally inducing labour out there, that I don't even know them all! But in the end, none of this will work if baby and body are not ready. We truly are not in control. And it bothers us to no end. So, we have more medically inclined techniques that we often fall on when we hit that uncomfortable stage. Sw...

Tomorrow, I will be 38 weeks pregnant. I am excited, sore, tired (no, exhausted), and starting to get very irritable. I am trying hard to not let the irritation overtake me, but I definitely have felt it creep in more than I would like. I keep being told to stay active, yet to rest. I don't really know what these people think when they say that. I am tired of people being surprised when I tell them I'm due, or saying that I must be uncomfortable, or telling me I am huge and that it must be twins, etc, etc, etc. Last pregnancy, I felt incredible irritation at those comments. This time though I am finding myself more able to just smile and nod at them. Perhaps it's because I realize that these people mean well, or perhaps it's because I just don't care anymore what they say. I hope it's an indication that I am doing better at handling my emotions and that that means I won't have to fight with PPD this time.  I look around and see all of the signs of kids...

The countdown is on. I am 37 weeks pregnant today. That means that baby could "technically" come at any time (though, let's wait until my doulas are back home, ok baby?).  Pretty soon, this baby boy will be here! I'm sure it will seem like forever. I'm sure I will get even more uncomfortable (is that even possible?!). I'm sure that I will get grumpier. I'm sure I will get even bigger (the body continues to amaze me how much it stretches to accommodate a baby!). And, I'm sure that all too soon our little family of four will become a family of five.  Until then, though, I have to deal with all of the third trimester annoyances. Heartburn, achy and unstable hips, feeling heavy, waking up a bazillion times for the bathroom, being moody, not having any clothes to wear because your belly is too big but the rest of you is smaller (seriously manufacturers, bigger belly does not always equal bigger everywhere else!), not being able to get comfortable at night, ...

This pregnancy has flown by. On Saturday, I will hit 34 weeks. That means that this little boy could join us anywhere from 4 weeks to 8 weeks. And as much as I sometimes wish I could speed up or slow down time, I know I can't. I have been trying desperately to get everything ready for when that happens, but my list doesn't seem to be getting shorter. I have been focusing so much on the stuff I need to do that I have neglected to do any mental and emotional preparation for the actual birth. Now, I'm staring down my guess date and realizing that this baby is coming whether I'm ready or not, and, to be honest, I'm a little afraid.  What am I afraid of? I've done this before--twice! And one of those times was a 10.5 lb baby born in my dining room! In my head, I know I can do this. But I'm afraid. I'm afraid of what my prolapse means for labour and birth. I'm afraid of something going wrong. I'm afraid I won't be able to push him out because...

Thank you to my fantastic friend Jen at Snow Pea Portraits for the great photo above!  http://www.snowpeaportraits.com/ The past year and a half has been an amazing journey, full of high highs and low lows. I trained for and ran a half marathon . I lost over 50 pounds in 6 months. A past injury flared up and sidelined me from running. Uterine prolapse came into my life. Postpartum depression took over my life. We got pregnant again. So far, my thirties have been full of emotions, body change, and body issues. I have felt like a warrior and felt like my body was broken within the span of a month.  When I saw that little plus sign back in the fall, I was scared of what it meant for my body. I carry my babies big, and I make big babies . I have gained about 50 lbs with each baby, and on my small 5'3" frame, that's a lot of pounds. I was determined to make it through this pregnancy active and strong. I dedicated myself to doing yoga a couple of times a week, and decid...

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 ...