Three weeks ago, I was in the middle of a routine ultrasound when I saw some odd numbers and I knew immediately that I wasn't going home right away. Being a non-freaker-outer, I just figured I would have a little consult with the doctor and be out the door.
Not so much. Turns out EVERYONE freaks out (except for me) when the numbers aren't normal. I ended up strapped to all kinds of machines, consulting with the high-risk OB, getting my cervix fondled and hearing the dreaded words "modified activity".
Which is what I have been on for the last three weeks. Doctors are reluctant to give a definitive answer as to what exactly "modified activity" is, probably due to liability. They weren't so reluctant, however, to give me a list of NOs:
No cycling
No running
No walking
No weightlifting
No swimming
No yoga (seriously?!)
No laundry (such a bummer, really)
I am just supposed to sit on my butt and...get fat? be bored? go crazy? keep my baby out of the NICU?
Oh right. That IS the ultimate goal and it is a worthwhile one.
I respect that goal. That is a goal I can get behind.
Except it may be one of my most difficult goals yet. I was unflaggingly positive for the first week. The second week, I was still hanging in there. Then I had a meltdown. My body hurt from lack of exercise. I had had no time alone. I was tired all day. I lost my appetite. I slept worse. And I missed myself.
I realized that my time on a bike or in a pool or even in yoga? That's when I work things out in my brain, discuss things with myself, come up with my best ideas. It's also an escape. I have a specific number I need to reach, whether it's a time goal or power goal. I can focus on me and what I need to do to become better. It's a huge part of my identity and I feel a little lost without it.
Last week, I was told, "modified activity for the duration". As in, no training until after September. I hung my head. And nodded in compliance. A healthy baby is worth it. I can't argue with the numbers and the numbers show that my cervix is bound and determined to betray me.
Luckily, the Tour is on. Luckily, my kid is enrolled in day camp. Luckily, we have a two-week road trip planned at the end of the month. Luckily, I love to read.
I can do this. I will not go crazy. I will not drive my loved ones crazy. The end result will be worth it.
Really.
7+ months at the cabin in Central Washington. Not to worry. Right after this picture, I sat down. I swear. |