Transition

Transition (1).png

My life has been very busy since last Fall, and when things get busy I tend to get quiet. The last few months have been a tumult of change for our entire family -- discovering we were pregnant, a new elementary school, buying a house in small town Ontario, selling a house in downtown Ottawa, packing to move, actually moving, ANOTHER new school, and now preparing for the arrival of our very last baby.

I feel like I've hardly had a chance to breathe since August. I sort of feel like I've missed this entire pregnancy because I've been so busy meeting the needs of my family and managing everything else. I feel like I blinked in August and when I opened my eyes it was March, I was in my new house surrounded by boxes, and 37wks pregnant.

It has been a whirlwind.

As we slowly spread out and ease into our new home -- getting used to the much bigger space -- I'm trying to catch my brain up to speed and get into my birthing head space. It's an odd feeling to look down and realize you've kind of forgotten you were pregnant and then realize that baby could arrive literally ANY DAY at this point and be considered full term. I usually have a slow build to get myself into the right mindset, but this last time around it's more of a crash course.

It hasn't been helped by delaying unpacking the itty bitty cloth diapers, and baby clothes, and carriers, and all the lovely baby things that remind me of all my other babies when they were brand new. There is something to be said for nesting, after all -- seeing those tiny, treasured things on their shelves and in their drawers helps build a space for that little person in one's heart and mind, and not just in one's room.

Also on my mind right now is how I can help my 23mos old adjust to her new sister. Of all my children, she has been the most attached to me and is the least ready for this change. There is something bittersweet about her moving up the birth order ladder, and no longer being "the baby" of the family. She is my shadow, she is the embodiment of affection, she's always up for sleeping in or napping, and she's ALWAYS so very happy. She is such a joyful child and I don't want anything to change that.

But the only constant in life is change, right? She, and we, will adapt.

Until then, we fall into a holding pattern, waiting for our newest arrival -- trying to finish up the last bits of "must do" nesting, like painting and refurbishing the bathroom, hemming a baby blanket, getting my belly cast up on the wall where it belongs, making sure there is always a pot of flowers waiting to burst into bloom.

Knowing that this is the very last time we will go through this process (for real, this time) makes every little ritual extra important and bittersweet and deserving of being done right.