Still a Blueberry- Week 7

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Oh my.  Last night was rough.  I don’t know what happened or why but there must of been a surge of hormones at about 11pm that sent me running for the bathroom and drinking coca-cola, which is something I personally loathe to do, but was, however, encouraged to for nausea from none other then my nutritionist.

The seasickness made it really difficult to fall asleep so I lay there and listened to your Daddy breathing next to me and the hard heeled boots of our downstairs neighbor as he returned from his ‘gig’.  I wonder if Tim and I should buy him slippers for Christmas, do you think he would get the hint?  He’s the nicest guy in the world, I wouldn’t want to hurt his feelings.  But your Mom is sleep challenged and slightly neurotic, not the best combination for this situation.

I totally broke down this morning too. I couldn’t help it.  I was in the shower trying to muster up some courage for the day and all I could feel and see was this body of mine changing in ways I can’t control.  I guess I’m not one of those women that bask in the glow of first trimester pregnancy because the second I stepped out of the shower and your beautiful brilliant father walked up to me with that twinkle in his eye and asked me what was wrong I started crying.  He took me in his arms and told me it would be okay.  And he was right.  It is going to be okay.  Even more then okay.  I want you to know how happy I am to meet you and that I will do everything in my power to make sure you never inherit the same body issues that I have.  Growing up in Laguna Beach was a bitch, where puberty was punishment since most days revolved around surf, sand, and bikinis.  My body type was not revered. I struggled to accept myself the way I was even though I became a dancer and an actress.  Which was like putting gasoline on a fire.  I hate to admit that most of my life I have been on a diet.  I never want that life for you. The amount of time I have wasted worrying about my weight is a travesty.  No one truly knows the depth of the insanity it has taken me to.  Being a series regular on a TV show didn’t help either. I was never skinny enough, pretty enough, or talented enough.  Even though I most likely was all those things.  It wasn’t until I became a writer and worked with children did I find some respite from the obsession.  Yet, I still thought running a marathon would be a great idea.  Moderation is not my forte.  But I am learning and will learn for you.  Because I want you to have every opportunity to love and cherish yourself and your body as the sacred beautiful temple that it is growing right now, in my belly, to be.  I will remind you, like your Dad reminds me, every day, how beautiful, special, and wonderful you are.  Because when you are loved like that, the way your Dad loves me and will love you, everything changes and the world becomes a safer more loving place.  And I want that world for you.

I rambled a bit, I know.  I guess I just needed to.

Here is the latest pic of you:

Big love,

Mom

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