• Overdoing It

    Date: 2013.03.25 | Category: Family, Health, Life, Mark, Pregnancy, Sarah, Work | Tags:

    I like to stay busy. Don’t get me wrong, I also enjoy a few hours with a good book, but for the most part, “go go go” is a regular part of my life. I work full time, manage a toddler the best I can, make a stab at keeping some sort of order to my house (at least we’re all wearing clean clothes anyway) and then work freelance again in the evenings. On weekends I use my “free time” to go to the grocery store, visit with friends and family, do some photography and attempt to entertain the almost-two-year-old. Of course my husband is there to help, but it’s in my nature to charge full speed ahead and I like to do it. (This, of course, makes him nuts and there have been many occasions when I’m trying to recover from being sick that he makes me stay home).

    The problem is this goofy heart pregnancy thing keeps rearing its ugly head. Any time I go full speed ahead for longer than two hours, it knocks on my rib cage, or rather skips a knock, takes my breath away and tells me to sit down already.

    This weekend was BUSY. Saturday morning we went to visit dad at his store and let Sarah look at the fish and his bird.

    After that I enforced her “quiet time” while I went to the grocery store. Then we walked over to our neighbors for a two-hour long two-year-old twin birthday extravaganza (that was amazing, busy and fun), and then went to visit my friend Susan.

    Needless to say, my heart was displeased. Several times throughout the day it took me down, and then that night it was annoying and insistent. I woke up the next morning feeling like I had the flu. Body aches, nausea and a headache had me in the fetal position.

    That morning Mark gave me a nice, firm talk on overdoing it. I went back to bed, missed Palm Sunday Mass and tried to chill. We did end up driving to see my grandfather after lunch, who is having a very tough time recovering from surgery, but I let Mark drive and sat in the room with my grandfather. No funny business. And amazingly, no whacky heart stuff.

    Even the motions of Mass have taken me down. No more standing, kneeling and sitting in quick succession. I have to plant it in the pew and try not to let the Catholic guilt set in.

    In all seriousness, this has been tough on my normally very busy body. While I still want to go go go all the time, I’m having to sit and relinquish the responsibilities to other people (namely my husband). But, I give myself pep talks. I don’t want to be on bed rest, and Sarah certainly doesn’t need to be carried all the time anymore.

    I’m trying, but it’s tough. Who would have ever thought trying to be lazy would be so hard?