Well, I'm still learning that I am no longer what I have always been–––a high energy, multi-tasking, type A, work-a-holic that loves to pivot between stress and more stress. I am now the forgetful, laid back, more-interested-in-couch-time, not-wanting-to-get-involved, pregnant lady. Alas, is this the end of an era?
this weekend was a 3-day weekend. Thank God, I needed the break from - everything. From all the shopping, wrapping, traveling, family, ... all of it.
Friday, after work, I just couldn't wait to kick off my relaxing weekend. So, I cleaned. I know - it makes no sense to many people. But, I can't relax in a filthy house. Its like being sick and laying around in the same bed all day and all night with no shower - you feel so gross that it begins to make you feel worse.
I had Rob bring down all the XMas green & red storage bins so I could pack away every last morsel of the holiday. I had most of it packed and ready to go back up to the attic by the time I was calling it a night. We also managed to undecorate the tree and clean up all the needles. I vacuumed the whole living room so we could finally move over our new club chair that arrived after the tree was erected in its future location. It was nice to have the space again - room to breathe. Rob reffered to this purging of festive decoration as,"the living room's return to its normal mirthless state," to which he got a sideways glance. I don't think its mirthless, the walls are bright orange for God's sake.
Saturday morning I awoke early (thanks Betty, you truly are a great gift) to finish packing things away. I dusted off tops, put out a fresh table cloth, watered plants - hell, I even "repotted" the chinese bamboo just cause it, too, looked like it needed freshening. I was full force by the time Rob awoke. I then proceeded to finish up some laundry (did I mention I did 2 loads the night before?) and vacuum the rest of the house.
Somewhere between vacuuming the hallway and the master room - it hits me. The most severe backpain of my life. I don't mean the,"ouch! I ache," variety either. This was the,"Holy shit, did I pinch a nerve? I can't bend over to put on my pants!" variety. I was torn between pushing through so I could say I finished vacuuming the house (at least) or lying down before I made it worse. Which would old Brooke choose? The former, of course!
Rob was running errands and by the time he got home, I couldn't bend to pet our waisthigh dog. I was pathetic. He was, understandably, frustrated with me. I rested till we went to see a movie that night. I fidgetted throughout the flick but after a night's sleep, I was halfway to normal the next day.
Sunday I did hardly a thing. I really did take it easy. So easy, I even napped. I never nap! What's happening to me?
I then opted for the couch verses going to Carytown to watch the ball drop (man, I'm turning into a lazy-ass person. Aren't I supposed to be out and 'enjoying the final days of not having kids'?). Rob went on without me and called to wake me up with a,"Happy New Year" call. I'm fine with it. I wish I had been there but I have no regrets about sleeping through it all. ;-)
Monday, today, is New Year's Day. I wake up at least 3X's throughout the night to pee (wee! this is fun!) including 8AM when I was starving in addition to having go to the bathroom. I ignored the hunger and crashed some more till 10AM. When I woke up, finally, I knew I should eat something. I putzed straight into the kitchen for some toast. The amount of time that toaster took to toast was just enough time for me to crash... hard. I was pouring coffee and thought, "This smells awful," right before I noticed I was woozy. I dashed for a kitchen chair and flopped my head down on my folded arms. It still wasn't enough and I must admit, this was scary to me. I told Rob to get the toaster and that something was wrong. So wrong, that I needed help to the bed, I needed to lie down flat and fast! It was scary, my hands were tingling and I felt like I was slamming into walls as I tried to bolt for the bed. I laid down on my back and then became hot. Real hot. So hot I tried to tear off my housecoat that I wear (when you own a drafty house, you own things like housecoats) and asking Rob to help me. It was pathetic and sad all at the same time. I was afraid he wouldn't believe this little fit I was having so I told him I was burning up and to feel my forehead. I was sweaty all over. All this in the span of say, a minute. My hands became more tingly (like the marching ants you feel when your legs fall asleep) and I got really freaked out. I almost wanted to cry - it all seemed so exaggerated and irrational. Apparently, Rob says he feels this way when his blood sugar drops. Maybe he's right. I've never felt this way before and it was scary. He brought me the toast and I began to bounce back. I obviously plan to talk to my doctor regarding this little episode this Thursday when we go in to hear the heartbeat (the first time!). It was just all so strange.
I'm now trying to learn the lessons that it's no longer just me but somebody else here, too. Such a weird concept when you don't feel anything moving and you're still getting used to the idea of being pregnant.
I also wonder if I'll be forever changed by all of this. Not this weekend's events, no,.. but the whole pregnancy thing. Will I ever be my old high-strung, Type A self again? Will I be able to multi-task and "push the envelope" again? Or, does pregnancy open a whole new chapter on one's thinking. Does it make you evolve somehow into a new you where you change and become more learned?
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