As the cashier at Metropolitan Market said to me: the bloom has gone off the rose.
She asked me how I was. Cranky, I replied. She looked at my belly and laughed. I remember being there, she said.
I don't want to have this baby yet. I'm still in love with many parts of being pregnant. I love watching my belly undulate with feet, knees, and his wiggling butt. I love how bonded other mom's feel to my impending birth. And I've made no secret about loving the attention. Go ahead, you can still touch my belly!
But I'm uncomfortable. My actions are limited, and I find this incredibly irritating. I'd love to work on my plants and get rid of weeds. I'd love to go on long walks with Danica and Freya as the weather stays pleasant and the nights come later. None of this is going to happen. My groin hurts just walking up the stairs.
You're baby's dropped! I can tell just by looking at you! Ladies at work exclaim.
No kidding.
Having worked the last two days, I knew today was a day for recovery. I saw the massage therapist and chiropractor this morning. I got too relaxed on the table, my blood pressure dumped, and I got dizzy and nauseous. This is an effective way to end an otherwise fantastic massage. After throwing the ball in the backyard for Danica for one hour (good as a walk, no effort for me), I took a three hour nap. I looked at the messy house and decided I didn't give a shit. I sat in the backyard some more.
Kevin drove me to the library and grocery store before leaving for gaming tonight. He carried the grocery basket and snuck a candy bar into the bag.
I dragged myself to yoga class tonight. I wondered if I'd enjoy it, still being crabby. I found it revitalizing instead. I discovered the energy to clean up the kitchen, fix a nice dinner (sliced cherry tomatoes with fresh mozzarella and basil, covered in olive oil, salt, and pepper, and two slices of herb baguette), and make a light To Do list for tomorrow.
Next, I'm going to take a bath and read the newest Rachael Ray magazine. The dogs are relaxed. Not a bad evening.
4 comments:
Hmm ... I wonder if that was the same cashier who thought I was having twins. ;)
Glad you're trying to take it easy. And I'm sorry you're sore. I'd say it's all worth it, but you know that.
Welcome to the world of no longer giving a shit about so, so many things. :)
Life life; let go.
Jenny! I must say that I love reading your blog when you talk about food and what you have prepared - a lot different than our Texas taco salad or baked potato casserole. Yumm!
Keep your head up - you get to see your baby soon!
Relax and take your naps. I'll bring my gardening gloves and get some of those weeds out of there when I come up on the 2nd. Take care of yourself and precious little Patrick.
Hey, next time you're home alone on a Wed. we should "do nothing" together! I work from 5-7 but I'd love to hang out afterwards. We could eat a late dinner (or just make dessert) and listen to some NPR. :) Anyway, keep me in mind...you know I only live 5 minutes away.
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