According to the good doctor, I’m supposed to be taking it easy (in case you haven’t been following, I am very pregnant).
Not exactly bed rest, but the step just before that, which means I can shower by myself, take short day trips (supervised, of course) and walk down my driveway, but can’t pick up my toddler, do housework, or exercise. Thankfully, I can still write, but sitting on my rear end for hours on end is starting to lose its appeal. But who am I to complain? To the outsider, my doctor’s orders probably sound like a blessing—housebound, surrounded by pillows and oversized dogs, all while sipping decaf coffee, with all the time in the world to pound away at a manuscript (that seems to be taking YEARS). I will admit that it was kind of fun for the first five days. But two weeks later, I am going a wee bit stir crazy. I even Googled “bed rest yoga”, which is actually a thing, thank goodness.
So why all of the hullabaloo this time around? My first baby made his way into the world without any problems. He hung in there the whole time, through a solid fall from a horse to day after day of mucking stalls and long walks (supervised, of course, by family members, one of whom has extremely long legs so it was pretty much like running anyway). But this little one has decided she’s eager to meet the world, which has resulted in many sleepless nights consumed with worry, and an overprotective dog that literally follows me from room to room while breathing heavily with concern or old age, I’m not sure which one (she’s very loyal—the dog, I mean) while I try not to think about contractions. These early complications have translated to me turning into a bed potato that fibs to her family about taking walks down the driveway and doing the laundry, while excessively apologizing to everyone while they try to make my life easier. (To my family, just kidding. I didn’t take any walks or do laundry, I swear.)
But the truth is that even while I lie here complaining, I know that I’ll miss these quiet moments when I have two little ones running around our home. There will be time enough to be a regular person, so I’d better enjoy this time while it lasts.
