So....Much.....Inspiration...........

These last few days have been spent doing one of the following:

-sleeping
-eating
-answering "no, I have not had the baby yet" through gritted, smiling teeth
-reading blogs

Oh so many blogs! I have saved posts that I want to link to and posts I want to write about and websites that blogs have led me to. This is one of my new favourite places to peruse.

The blogosphere is big people! I think I have no idea what I am getting myself into.

Stretch and Sweep

And while you're at it, maybe a little vacuum?

Please get this baby out of me. Still one week until my due date and I'm already feeling desperate. I read a piece of advice from a new mom yesterday that recommended considering your pregnancy to be forty-two weeks from the very beginning. That way if you go any sooner, you'll be delighted rather than sorely disappointed when you're passed due. It is sound advice.

I'm exhausted already and am concerned about what will come once the little one arrives. I wake each day before the sun and generally stay awake until Marc comes home. This results in a maximum of five hours of sleep and it is catching up to me. I should really stop trying to work around the boys schedule, but I just like him so much.

Good Morning

Love making and crêpes with homemade jam.
Mmm.

Am I Pretty?

I'm fairly certain I had this exact conversation with my love just  yesterday:

You can purchase it in card form here.

Getting There

I have about a billion saved posts that reach their climax and then bottom out.
Sometimes I feel I've simply too much to say and I'm not articulate enough to have it make any sense.

The past few weeks have been hard. I would like to call myself an extremely patient person, but the due date that looms before me seems forever out of reach. Everyone is telling me at this point that I'd better enjoy my time while I still have it, but all I want is to meet this little creature. And to have my body back (at least to some degree). I've been on an emotional roller coaster that even the most adventuresome spirits would not want to ride. I miss myself, I won't lie. Only ten more days until she's due and it feels like an eternity. I must have jinxed myself by believing I'd go early this whole time. Curses!

Pregnancy has not been what I expected. I was one of those people with a very romanticized perception of pregnancy--though never of children, I've been around enough to know what little goobers they truly are. I always saw the pregnant woman as powerful and uncommonly beautiful. I didn't consider what it must feel like to lose total control of your body. To watch those stretch marks form while your back aches and your feet disappear as this thing sucks you of all your energy, self-esteem and mental stability. I still have extreme bouts of depression when I think that I will never look the way I did before. It sounds so selfish and vain, like such a small price to pay for the joy of having a baby, but it's true and I'm having a hard time getting beyond it. It doesn't matter how many people tell me how great I look. I am stubborn enough that if I do not feel great then that's simply how it is. I do at times regard my body with a sense of wonderment. "How fucking incredible," I think (I have the mouth of a sailor), "that I can make someone." At times like these I feel bold. I say, "Screw you girl that is unmarked by the ravages of mother nature! I made a damn person, and I am going to pass her through my vagina!" and I feel a smug satisfaction. But that doesn't make me proud of my form. Not yet. Maybe one day it will.

I have decided today that I will make an effort to enjoy these last days (hopefully) of pregnancy. Truth be told, there are many joys. Being pregnant makes me feel a part of something I can't quite define (maybe just the human race in general?). As someone who has always been a bit of a black sheep no matter where they go, feeling a sense of community is truly wonderful. Not to mention the way you suddenly realise the amount of support that surrounds you. I have been truly overwhelmed by people's generosity, whether it be a box of baby clothes to the earnest offer of a shoulder to lean on, I have learned I have a lot more good people in my life than I initially thought. These are lasting experiences that have made an impact that will not disappear. There is one thing though, that does not last. Those little kicks and jabs and rolls that can be so uncomfortable? They never fail to make me smile. For weeks now she's gotten so cramped that her little foot protrudes out my right side. While it makes sleeping, sitting, and, well, moving fairly uncomfortable, I love grabbing a hold if that little paw and having her whisk it away as though she is irritated. I will miss that. I will miss having her inside me where I can protect her and know she is safe. Not to mention the fact that I actually allow myself to keep junk food in the house, (almost) guilt free. That really is a huge perk that I'm sure I'll miss. When I feel like kraft dinner for breakfast after I give birth, what will my excuse be? I suppose I'd better get it in while I can.

Bad Blogger

I think I have sorted out why I didn't have a blog--I get so caught up in reading other people's that I forget to write my own.

Many things have progressed since I wrote last. The apartment is now satisfactorily organized and baby ready. Excellent news considering I've been told to "take it easy", "pack my bags", and expect the bundle of joy "at any time". In short, I am 2cm dilated. And while I have--thankfully--not been put on bed rest, they've asked me to kindly do my best to keep her in there for at least another week (at which point I will be 37weeks, full term).  I'm doing my best to not get my hopes up as I eagerly wait her arrival, while my darling blabs that we will have a baby within the week.

I know the stories though. The stories of the women who dilate early and then wait. And wait. And wait. The anticipation killing them as they walk for miles, stopping at every curry joint they come across and ordering vindaloo with extra cayenne. And then, 8 days overdue, 60 gallons of raspberry leaf tea later, they are induced. I refuse. I refuse to get carried away. Though I must admit each day I wake up after my incredibly restful 4 hours sleep, pat the bulge that has hidden my bottom half from view for months, and say "you can come now, baby". I am ready. No longer scared, as I was for the first eight and a half months. Just ready.

You can come now, baby.

Mommy Blog

I do not want a mommy blog. I do not want it in a fog, or while I jog, or eat like a hog. I do not want it, Sam I am.

While I have found them to be absolutely inspirational and a truly fabulous resource, I do not want to theme my blog. Not just yet.

There are many many things I am passionate about and while they include my current round state, the creature that causes that roundness, and my absolutely wonderful mate, they are most certainly not limited to that. So, while I will write about (sometimes probably exclusively, since it is what occupies most of my brain) the adventures of mommyhood, I will not resign myself to making it a theme.

My life is such a whirlwind at the moment that a theme would be unfair to both you and I. While the last nine months have been a journey, the next nine will prove to be an adventure, with the birth of our child, our wedding, and an out of province move.

I keep asking myself why I wanted to blog, and though it's not really important, I've come up with some theories. One, is so that I remain sane. So I have a place to write my thoughts without boundaries. I can be as nonsensical and themeless as I wish, as long as I get it all out. Another, is so that I have something to do that is strickly for me. I feel as though I have lived my entire life for other people, something I will go into with further detail at another time, and I am giving myself this space to be the most unadultered form of me there is. This blog is mine. I also really love other people's blogs. I could spend a day reading through the blogs of total strangers. Today, I spend the majority of my morning doing just that, causing me to burst into spontanious laughter and tears. And then it hit me, the incredible sense of community a blog can really give you. I'm reading the things these strangers write and thinking to myself "yeah, I get that! I know just what you mean!". I'm finding friends that have no idea who I am, yet they are part of my life daily. As creepy as that may be, it also occurred to me that it is likely one of the reasons they blog in the first place. And perhaps one of the reasons I, too, want to blog. Of course I want to inspire and interest people. Of course I want to allow people to learn from my experience. Of course I want new friends. And all the other bloggers do too!

First and foremost, this blog is mine. But then it yours. And ours.

Make One Thing A Day

I've decided, to get the ball rolling at least, to sign myself up for the "create something every day" endeavour.

Day one I produced a bookshelf for the babies room. 

Day two, one dozen carrot muffins and some curry.

Day three, a cable knit at.

I admit, I feel accomplished! Now to keep this going will be something else all together. I've decided to keep rules loose at first, so I don't get discouraged. The creation can be anything from an organized closet to a photograph. 

Of course, the challenge will also be waved when I give birth. Though I suppose "a life" could be considered a pretty solid creation. 

Speaking of which, D-Day is fast approaching. Pregnancy takes a long ass time, so it seems like it will never happen, but when blessed with frequent nightly trips to the bathroom your mind has many an opportunity to wander. You get to thinking about how five and a half weeks could very easily become three and a half weeks, or less. You get to thinking about how that thing that rolls around inside you, that little person, could make itself present at any given moment and then you think of all the things that still need to be done. Of all the things that could happen. So you get up in the middle of the night and eat half a pint of blackberries while chatting with your best friend who's just gotten off work and then you're tired for the rest of the day. And unproductive.

I'm going to make something.

A Blog

I've decided I want a blog. I do. I feel as though somehow having a successful blog will make me feel...Accomplished?
I don't know.
I need a something. This blog idea came to me some time ago. It seems to be the thing that people do.
The problem I'm finding is that I don't know what to blog about. Blogs should have some sort of recognizable theme, shouldn't they?
I don't really know a thing about blogs. And I know very little about technology. But I've found that I'm a poor sport about writing things down on paper, so here I am.
Perhaps my blog will be about my finding a way. That's what I'm doing most of the time.
Teach me, blogosphere! (that's what it's called, right?)