40 days.
40 days to go until I am never pregnant again. Ever.
40 seems to be a significant number in history. Jesus Christ fasted for 40 days. Noah and his family waited out a flood for 40 days. The Israelites wandered and survived in the wilderness for 40 years. I think I can muster the energy to endure this condition for a mere 40 more days. It's less than six weeks now and it's time to put on my big girl panties and do it.
As I type this, the three older kids are doing who knows what out in the living room. I am hearing crashes, bangs, screams, and a lot of laughter. Devin is sitting at the computer tower on the floor protesting because I won't let him press any buttons as I block everything with my left foot. Cody is laid up in the basement recovering from surgery, trying to get some rest.
I cried a lot this morning as I rushed to get the girls to the ballet studio on time for recital pictures. I was up at 7:30 this morning and we had to leave the house at 10:30. Even in three hours, the kids, my ill-fuinctioning body, and life didn't want to cooperate and we still made it to the studio with out a second to spare. Their class was lining up in the lobby for their turn for group pictures. I had a tear streaked face and it's all I could do to keep the girls from crying and smearing their freshly made-up eyes. Luckily I was able to pawn Ethan off at a friend's house so at least he wasn't there to whine about everything. But I hated how I must have looked to the other moms there. But here's the thing, ladies-
Each of you only has two children, and two of you only have one. None of you are eight months pregnant with four other small kids. None of you have a screaming 16 month old in tow. It's been a horrible morning. Don't give me that look. (*Not that two kids is easy. I remember those days, but it's an entirely different ballgame than we are playing in now.)
The studio owners were so sweet and efficient and helped me get the girls' hair pieces positioned on their heads just in time for the photographer to call them back. Then I got the kids Happy Meals on the way home as a peace offering.
I have a list a million miles long of things I need/want to do in the next 40 days. But the thing is, my body has given out. It is yelling at me "STOP!!! I can't do anymore!!!" Something has got to give. But I've hit a stage of panic as I think of all the things I need to do to get my house, life, and family in order before April 7th arrives. It's just not enough time and I don't have enough energy. Today I had to lay down three times just to regain the small amount of energy to do things like...load the dishwasher. Or change a diaper. Or sweep the floor for the sixth time today.
The kids bedtime can not get here fast enough. From right now, they will be in bed in exactly 88 minutes.
I hurt. I hurt so much that I want to cry when I walk up the stairs. My hips have fallen out of place and my pubic bone feels like it's been cut in half. My back...well don't get me started on the pain in my back. It doesn't help that I am sporting around an F cup sized chest and I don't have the neck and back strength to support it, along with a huge belly. I am having painful contractions at least four times an hour during waking hours, especially when kids are awake. I have the same circulation issues I've had the last three pregnancies, only worse this time. My heart is having a devil of a time making enough blood for my body to finction well. My blood pressure is extremely low (as in 73/50) and I nearly faint on an hourly basis. Because of all this, it takes me four time the normal amount of time to do simple tasks.
40 days.
I am having my fifth and final c-section on April 7th and normally I fear it like crazy. I am filled with anxiety as the time gets closer because I feel like I am bracing myself for a train wreck. But this pregnancy has been such a test of strength and endurance and it's leaving me saying "BRING IT! BRING IT ON!" As much as I cherish pregnancy and I appreciate the amazing miracle that it is, I have paid my dues. I am done. I have done this five times now and I feel like it's enough. There are things I will miss about never being in this phase of life again, but for the most part, I look forward to the furture. I look forward to having my health and strength back, and to be able to walk up a flight of stairs without being winded and having to recover afterward. I look forward to being able to care for my family and self in the way I'd like to. I look forward to having that energy back.
I guess that what I can mark off my list will be considered a small miracle. If things get done, they get done And of they don't, well they are not going anywhere and tasks left undone will have to stay that way until I am recovered from surgery. In 40 days I will be experiencing the worst afterbirth contractions (to go along with a excruciating and fresh abdominal incision) that I have yet experienced because they get worse each time as my uterus gets more tired. But at the same time I will be snuggling with a new baby, fresh from Heaven, and falling madly in love with the newest guy in my life. Thinking about that time makes me feel just a tad stronger, and gives me a second wind to get through the next 40 days.
40 days to go until I am never pregnant again. Ever.
40 seems to be a significant number in history. Jesus Christ fasted for 40 days. Noah and his family waited out a flood for 40 days. The Israelites wandered and survived in the wilderness for 40 years. I think I can muster the energy to endure this condition for a mere 40 more days. It's less than six weeks now and it's time to put on my big girl panties and do it.
As I type this, the three older kids are doing who knows what out in the living room. I am hearing crashes, bangs, screams, and a lot of laughter. Devin is sitting at the computer tower on the floor protesting because I won't let him press any buttons as I block everything with my left foot. Cody is laid up in the basement recovering from surgery, trying to get some rest.
I cried a lot this morning as I rushed to get the girls to the ballet studio on time for recital pictures. I was up at 7:30 this morning and we had to leave the house at 10:30. Even in three hours, the kids, my ill-fuinctioning body, and life didn't want to cooperate and we still made it to the studio with out a second to spare. Their class was lining up in the lobby for their turn for group pictures. I had a tear streaked face and it's all I could do to keep the girls from crying and smearing their freshly made-up eyes. Luckily I was able to pawn Ethan off at a friend's house so at least he wasn't there to whine about everything. But I hated how I must have looked to the other moms there. But here's the thing, ladies-
Each of you only has two children, and two of you only have one. None of you are eight months pregnant with four other small kids. None of you have a screaming 16 month old in tow. It's been a horrible morning. Don't give me that look. (*Not that two kids is easy. I remember those days, but it's an entirely different ballgame than we are playing in now.)
The studio owners were so sweet and efficient and helped me get the girls' hair pieces positioned on their heads just in time for the photographer to call them back. Then I got the kids Happy Meals on the way home as a peace offering.
I have a list a million miles long of things I need/want to do in the next 40 days. But the thing is, my body has given out. It is yelling at me "STOP!!! I can't do anymore!!!" Something has got to give. But I've hit a stage of panic as I think of all the things I need to do to get my house, life, and family in order before April 7th arrives. It's just not enough time and I don't have enough energy. Today I had to lay down three times just to regain the small amount of energy to do things like...load the dishwasher. Or change a diaper. Or sweep the floor for the sixth time today.
The kids bedtime can not get here fast enough. From right now, they will be in bed in exactly 88 minutes.
I hurt. I hurt so much that I want to cry when I walk up the stairs. My hips have fallen out of place and my pubic bone feels like it's been cut in half. My back...well don't get me started on the pain in my back. It doesn't help that I am sporting around an F cup sized chest and I don't have the neck and back strength to support it, along with a huge belly. I am having painful contractions at least four times an hour during waking hours, especially when kids are awake. I have the same circulation issues I've had the last three pregnancies, only worse this time. My heart is having a devil of a time making enough blood for my body to finction well. My blood pressure is extremely low (as in 73/50) and I nearly faint on an hourly basis. Because of all this, it takes me four time the normal amount of time to do simple tasks.
40 days.
I am having my fifth and final c-section on April 7th and normally I fear it like crazy. I am filled with anxiety as the time gets closer because I feel like I am bracing myself for a train wreck. But this pregnancy has been such a test of strength and endurance and it's leaving me saying "BRING IT! BRING IT ON!" As much as I cherish pregnancy and I appreciate the amazing miracle that it is, I have paid my dues. I am done. I have done this five times now and I feel like it's enough. There are things I will miss about never being in this phase of life again, but for the most part, I look forward to the furture. I look forward to having my health and strength back, and to be able to walk up a flight of stairs without being winded and having to recover afterward. I look forward to being able to care for my family and self in the way I'd like to. I look forward to having that energy back.
I guess that what I can mark off my list will be considered a small miracle. If things get done, they get done And of they don't, well they are not going anywhere and tasks left undone will have to stay that way until I am recovered from surgery. In 40 days I will be experiencing the worst afterbirth contractions (to go along with a excruciating and fresh abdominal incision) that I have yet experienced because they get worse each time as my uterus gets more tired. But at the same time I will be snuggling with a new baby, fresh from Heaven, and falling madly in love with the newest guy in my life. Thinking about that time makes me feel just a tad stronger, and gives me a second wind to get through the next 40 days.
2 comments:
I love the way you write! Hang in there! Please let me know if there is anything I can do to help. I really mean that. We've both been through mentally and physically challenging pregnancies, so I actually feel your pain!
Hey lady!
I love you--you are so funny--even in your most miserable moments! Things have been insane with our 4 kids and I am not pregnant! Oh, I will keep your guys in my prayers. What great blogs you have. I was just checking out your craft blog too--so cute! I am so very NOT crafty myself. I miss you guys! Your family is adorable! My dinner is burning! Janae (Davis)
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