Posted by: Hannah | 10/12/2011


Yesterday was a tough day.

By the end of this week I’ll officially be in the third trimester, and I’m feeling it.

I did too much on the weekend. Much too much. As we come closer to having an infant again, I find myself trying to cram in activities with the boys, always pushing myself to have fun with them because I know that a Canadian winter plus a newborn will create a huge tendency for me to hibernate.

So we went to my mom’s for an overnight, and for walks in the woods, and apple picking. Thing #1 had a school project due on Tuesday morning so I helped him with that, too. And I did yet more laundry and packed lunches and pre-made dinner and tidied and swept and vacuumed and cleaned up the dayhome. And by Monday night at 9:30, when sanity finally prevailed and I said “ENOUGH” still I didn’t feel finished, but I could barely walk.

Then yesterday was a beautiful day, and we’re transitioning a new kid into the dayhome next week so hey! good to get some outings done now, right? Four kids for a walk, one in the stroller, and look at the ducks and the leaves and oh great, someone up the road is putting a new foundation in so dump trucks roaring past every five minutes and a walk that takes me fifteen minutes took an hour. And by the time we got back from that, I actually *couldn’t* walk and spent the rest of the morning sitting quietly while the children napped or played in the sandbox.

By the time hubby got home from work (and he brought home groceries, the darling) I almost couldn’t stand up. He pointed me sternly at the couch and made me sit, made a batch of spaghetti sauce for tonight’s dinner, and put me to bed at 9:30. I am a little more limber this morning, but the day frightened me. For the first time, I really truly doubted my ability to continue doing this job unaided until Christmas.

Because here’s the thing. When I was just about this pregnant with Thing #1, we went on our honeymoon. To Germany. The former East Germany. A country where everyone has tight buns because there isn’t a goddamn escalator or elevator in the place, and the train system somehow requires you to climb up long flights of stairs when both departing and arriving, which makes no sense but is true. And we walked, and climbed, and walked and climbed some more, and at the end of every day we climbed five flights of stairs to my friend’s apartment where we slept on a four inch thick “mattress” and had no pillows. I ended up doing so much damage to the ligaments in my pelvic region that promptly upon returning from the vacation, I was put on two weeks’ bedrest. Which I shortened to one week because hey, I didn’t get paid sick time in that job and I had *just* taken two weeks off.

Post-partum yoga and lots of gentle exercise healed things. Until my second pregnancy, when it flared up again. And this time around, the tell-tale pain started way back in early July.

There is nothing to do for it, beyond resting frequently, not straining myself, and trying to get in some more yoga time to strengthen my core.

All things that will be difficult to do in the next two months.

I know that I can do what I need to do, because I have to.

But I’m frightened. I’m not good at stopping. Two posts I’ve read this week have talked about taking on too much, about overcommitting and why we do it and how to stop it.

I think the universe is sending me a message.

I just have to be strong enough to heed it.



  1. Yay for yoga!

    You do need to rest up though. Not taking on too much – easier said than done, I know, but important.

  2. Now, look here, young lady, you and your kiddies need you to be OK, so take it easy!

    Take it easy, rest and relax when possible, and remember that no one’s going to judge a pregnant lady who needs to sit down for a wee bit. 🙂

  3. I hope you’re not casting aspersions on hibernating. I’m part bear — I want to hibernate all the time! I agree w/ beachedlibrarian: no one is going to judge a pregnant lady for taking a break.

    Take care of yourself.

  4. Dear lord, woman, rest, rest! Train those kiddies to fetch you bon bons.

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