Bed Rest Lessons

This morning, I woke up at as usual at around 730am, and did what I could to help Roque get Greyson out of the house for school. After they left, still sleepy and lethargic, I crawled back into bed and fell back asleep, allowing myself to wake up at 10am. As I was eating my bowl of Raisin Bran shortly after, it occurred to me that I couldn't remember the last time I ate breakfast at 10 in the morning. Except for the 7am interruption, it almost felt like I had slept in, something I haven't done since we had Greyson. It was kind of surreal, yet luxurious.

My friend Lynda told me last night to enjoy all this time I get to laze around the house, because once this baby comes around, I'll be on my feet all the time and missing these days. I think she has a point. Starting on Monday, bed rest officially started getting to me. It seems like nothing I read is interesting, nothing on tv is good, and I'm getting tired of crochet. The irony of it all is before bed rest, I used to complain all the time about how exhausted I was, and how all I wanted to do all day was lie down. But after two weeks, my muscles are creaky from the lack of activity and I avoid mirrors all day so I don't have to catch a sight of myself in Roque's XL T-shirt, and sweats. Today, I pointedly said to myself, "Enjoy this time." There won't be many more days of this lying around. Being a genetic worrier, it's hard for me to focus on the present and not project 10 years into the future. Perhaps this is God's way of teaching me to languish in mandatory rest, be emotionally present for my son in ways I will not be able to for long, and be grateful that at my largest, I can be free from the pressure of looking fashion forward.