If you follow me on instagram or twitter, you've probably seen me complaining and bemoaning my current bed rest situation. It's totally annoying. I won't bore with you with the details, so let's just sum it up by saying that on Wednesday night I was a sobbing mess of pain when Zach got home from work. We called the midwife and she confirmed what I assumed the problem was : round ligament pain. I figured I'd just have to tough it out until it eased up a bit. Zach tried to work from home the next day, but around lunch time, I started bleeding. There's nothing that will freak a pregnant woman out more than bleeding. I tried not to panic, but duh. That's what I do. I immediately jump to worst case scenario, and then I Web MD that sucker. Clearly, the placenta had detached, or my appendix had burst, or I had preeclampsia, or I was losing the baby. I immediately called my doctor's office and we went in for a slightly emergent appointment. Cause again -- bleeding, pregnancy, unbearable abdomen pain...all bad things. As soon as I walked in, the nurses were commenting on how terrible I looked. In the most loving and empathetic way, of course, but it was clear I looked as bad as I felt. The good news is, though, that the baby is fine and we're gonna survive. There's no sweeter music than the sound of your baby's heartbeat and it calmed my anxious nerves down immediately. Once I heard that heartbeat, I didn't even care what was wrong with me, I was just so stinking relieved. Long story short, I have a bacterial infection that no one can figure out how I was so lucky to contract. But contract it I did, and now I am confined to the couch/bed/floor/chair until the pain, bleeding, and infection go away.
I'm a terrible sick person and I always have been. All weekend, I kept trying to get up and clean and help with the kids, and even convinced Zach to take me out of the house for a little while. All bad ideas. All of which I paid for heavily the rest of the day. I can't climb stairs, or lift Emery, or bend over, or do anything that exerts any kind of energy without doubling over in pain and losing my breath. It's all quite dramatic, I assure you. But I'm learning to let go and breathe deep and just ... rest.
However, t's hard for me to sit back and watch Zach play with the boys, dress the boys, feed the boys, clean, cook, run errands, etc. and do all the things that I should be doing. And it's not because I don't like the way he does things, or feel the need to correct him or whatever, it's just that I feel so bad about it. Even though it's not my fault and there's nothing I can do about this little medical situation, the guilt is strong. And so of course when I feel guilty, I act out and get emotional and snappy and Zach's just like, "What the hec is going on right now?" Oh that man. He endures so much from me and yet he still brings treats of the flowery and flannel nature. I lucked out, ladies. *swoon*
ANYhoo. So bed rest. I'm doing a lot of pinning, a lot of eating, and maybe this week I'll dust off my crochet hooks and make a new scarf or something. All I know is I. am. done. Zach needs to get back to work and make them dolla bills and I need to get back on my feet and do some laundry. So please send all the good thoughts and prayers our way! And if you happen to be driving through my neighborhood, feel free to stop by and watch an episode of Call the Midwife with me. We can cry and eat chocolate together. If I have any left ...