My due date is 42 days away. Still a little more than a month out, but I am counting every day. For me, honestly, any time in November would be fine, although I expect I'll make it to Thanksgiving or close to it.
For the past 22 days I have been in almost constant pain. While I'm sitting down, it's more of a dull ache. When I stand up, it goes up a couple of notches. After about 2 minutes, my right foot starts to go numb and I have shooting pains down my entire right side, alleviated only by sitting or lying down.
It's hard.
Today I had a physical therapy appointment, and got a support belt and some stretches to do. It's only been a few hours, but I can feel a bit of a difference. I can manage to fold two whole loads of laundry instead of part of one. I even did the dishes without taking a break. Such little things that even a month ago were just taken for granted as part of my day.
Whether or not the therapy helps, I'm adapting. I've learned just how much I can do while sitting down. All the veggie chopping? Happens at the dining room table now. Most of the school work? The table, the couch, the bed. And I've actually become better at utilizing the time I have, because I know that when I start to do something, I only have a few minutes to get it done. And then I take a break. I go back and forth between a task that I have to stand up for, like getting dinner cooking on the stove, and something I can do sitting down, like writing out my menu plan or balancing the checkbook.
And it hasn't just benefitted my productivity. I'm starting to give the kids more responsibility. Instead of doing everything myself, Jonah now puts most of the dishes away. Matthew can put the laundry in the basket. Even Hannah helps pick up some of the mass of toys she's gotten out.
These are good things. And these are the things that are pushing me forward.
Part of me wonders if this is God's way of preparing me for life with four kids. I know that will be hard. I know there will be many times when I will question myself, when I will feel overwhelmed with all I have to do. But then I can think back on these months, of all that I managed to accomplish little by little. I can give myself the grace to take breaks. I can (hopefully) be able to move without pain and so rejoice in that movement that even the mundane chores will seem easier because of it.
One more month. (Okay, one more month plus another week or two). I can make it, day by day, bit by bit.
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