September 3, 2010 by Cara Lemieux
Bed Rest and Limited Physical Activity Make You…
Like seriously a little further off your rocker than you usual.
Have you ever been on either bed rest or had your physical activity limited?
Um, well if you haven’t, I will give you some friendly insight.
The first few days, you feel like you are catching up on all the sleep you have missed out on in your life. It is actually quite nice (minus the contractions of course).
You wake up in the morning and you have, well, nothing to do. So you sleep, you wake up, you lay around, you read, you Facebook stalk from your laptop, you eat, you nod off, you get up and go the bathroom, you look at the shower and debate whether or not you should get into it and decide against it, you contemplate changing out of your pajamas, and you decide against that because there is really no point as the sun is setting – and you repeat.
On about the fourth day you feel very rested and ready to…well…ready to…get up and move to the couch.
You and your very kind family come up with some fun activities to entertain you.
One of which is making up names for the baby since you won’t share her name with everyone.
Here are just a few:
1. Tuloola Maye (this is my mom’s recent favorite)
1a. Lulla Belle (also mom’s favorite)
2. Julia (Dad’s top contender)
3. Kari (Grandma P’s favorite, and I just found out this was almost my name)
5. Ducky or Duckie – Grandma P thinks I should spell it Duckie because it’s a girl.
Other activities include hosting visitors like Grandma L and Grandpa L. Grandma L was very kind and brought me treats and a prayer card that she filled out to me and “the Baby” She pointed out that she was unable to really fill it completely because I won’t tell her the name.
I smiled and said, “I am still not telling you the name.” Pretty sure god knows who the prayers are for.
Somewhere in there you start to feel like a well rested hostage. And you being to daydream about running the women’s half-marathon in April. You might actually visualize it as you are falling asleep at night…wind in your hair, great music in your ears, sweat running down your back as your feet pound the pavement…and then you roll over and tell your mom how badly you want to go for a run and she says something to the effect of “if you even try to work out I’ll break your legs. You are going to be the death of me.”
Yesterday, I had a very exciting day…brace yourself…after staying on my parent’s couch till 3pm my sister came over with my nephew and we played.
My sister mentioned that she had to go home to start cooking the pork tenderloin and I could not have gotten dressed any faster. The thought of getting out of the house was intoxicating.
(Nope, you didn’t miss anything. She did not invite me over for dinner, I invited myself. Desperate times…)
And today a friend came and picked me up and we went out to lunch! I felt like a kid on Christmas morning.
Don’t get me wrong. I have really enjoyed my R&R at my parent’s house, but I like to, um, do things.
During all of this, I figured my mom was secretly enjoying my time at home, this quality time is hard to come by the older we all get. This morning I actually thought, “poor mom and dad, they are going to be sad when they bring me back to the city tomorrow. Well they will get to spend plenty of time with the baby and I when we come home for my maternity leave, and their holidays will be made so much sweeter waking up to us every morning.”
Then, this afternoon Grandma P said “Well when you and the baby come stay with me on your maternity leave, you can have the whole upstairs”.
I didn’t ask to stay at my grandmother’s. And now, I am interested to know the details of the conversations my mother and grandmother had in their outing today, but I now pretty sure it didn’t include a tearful countdown to my return to NYC tomorrow.
Btw…this is the same grandmother that just asked me what book I am reading and I said, “Oh a book about a grad student that gets pregnant by accident and the guy walks out on her.”
Grandma pauses and says, “Well if you do it, you can’t ever really be sure that you won’t get pregnant.”
Wise words, Grandma, wise words.