“Pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our consciences, but shouts in our pains. It is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world.” -C.S. Lewis
Today’s pain is not so dramatic as what Lewis was alluding to, most likely, but boy is it insisting on my attention like a toddler wielding a hammer.
In the past week and a half or so pelvic pain has been creeping in on me, on that V shape made by the meeting of my hips and upper thighs. It feels like I’ve been doing squats in my sleep, and waking up to feel the effects–a consistent soreness that persists through the day. At first I did think I might have overexerted myself on a long walk, but it’s stuck around, making it clear that this is not something that will be resolved in a day or two. It must be everything loosening up for birth, which is a good thing, but getting my 10,000 steps in is suddenly that much more challenging. I’ve been slipping a bit. I’ve only surpassed 11k once in the past week.
And…after much joking and veiled warnings from Carter about flipflops during pregnancy, I took my first spill today on my way to the grocery store. (I was, in fact, wearing sneakers.) My left ankle rolled (probably due to my loosened ligaments) and the world went suddenly sideways, and I found myself on the ground, stunned.
I hauled myself up and made my way to the grocery store and wandered up and down the aisles, still rather out of it, and ended up only buying gummy bears and ground coffee instead of the 6 items on my list. It hurts to breathe deeply and sitting up and standing up sends shooting pains through my right side. I did a bit of googling and it turns out it doesn’t matter if it’s bruised, cracked, or broken–the treatment for all three is the same: rest. They can’t x-ray the area or splint a rib, after all.
4-6 weeks of rest. And I’m due in…4 weeks. How’m I going to push with a bum rib? Hopefully it’s a light bruise if anything and it will resolve by then.
The worst of it is: I’ve only finished one item on my list of 10 to-do’s. I can’t stand at the stove and cook, can’t lift things up and down in the baby’s room. All I can do is lie on the couch. This is what depresses me the most.
But, maybe it’s a mixed blessing. Maybe I’ll get some writing done, since more active to-do’s are simply off the menu at the moment.