Last week, because I couldn’t see through the nausea and head cold that I was having, Zoe and I didn’t make it to the gym one time. Not one single time. I felt pretty dejected? depressed? totally bummed out? about it. During my pregnancy with Zoe, like I’ve said before, it was all I could do to survive… much less be active in any way. I worked at a desk for 8 hours every day, and then I would come home, lay on the couch and Brad would wait on me hand and foot for the rest of the evening.
Honestly? I don’t really know how women are active during the first trimester. I don’t know how you find the will to do anything more than what is absolutely necessary to life through the exhaustion, which, I think everybody gets. But. Some people stay incredibly active, and to those people I say, “Good for you”. I don’t have that will power. In fact, most days, when we’re at home, you’ll find me being an active mom about 1/2 the day, and the other half in a ball on the couch, just making sure that Zoe doesn’t hurt herself. I’ve cried more than one tear feeling like I’m not being the mom that Zoe deserves. But, then I remind myself, this is a stage. A very short stage. She will soon have her mother back… and besides, we can always read with me curled in a ball on the couch. We read a lot these days.
Anyways, because I wasn’t going to let this pregnancy be as inactive as the last one, yesterday we were at the gym by 9:30 for BodyJam, and then I had high hopes of doing a yoga class afterwards. A little bit of cardio, a little bit of stretching… sounded really good to me. Except, here’s the part where I tell you that I can’t hardly stand up without being nauseous. And so far, I haven’t made it through a workout class without wanting to puke my guts out. I made it 20 minutes yesterday before I had to leave. My goal was to get to the cafe that the gym has and get some food in my belly which sometimes helps the nausea. On my way there I felt the tears start to come.
It’s honestly so frustrating sometimes to feel so overpowered by something. To feel so out of control. To know what “normal” is, and to have no control over getting it back. To want to do something, and be unable to. It’s really annoying.
But, then you remember the reason that your body is going through it. You remember the joy that’s set before you, and you pick up your big girl pants. You realize that pregnancy is different for every person, and it’s different from pregnancy to pregnancy in the same person, and you stop judging yourself based on what other people can do while pregnant. You remind yourself that 20 minutes of a cardio workout is still 20 minutes of cardio, and that’s good. You take it one day at a time, honoring what your body can do that day, listening to it, taking advantage of extra energy, and laying in a ball on the couch when just standing up makes you want to run for the toilet.
I’m not there yet. Honestly. That last paragraph was a pep talk to myself. That last paragraph made me sound way more mentally stable than I actually am. =) I mean, I’m mentally stable. I’m just more in the “wallow in the misery that is pregnancy” stage rather than… “Hey, take it one day at a time…” and all the other stuff that I just said. Actually, I do pretty good at taking pregnancies one day at a time, because I couldn’t mentally handle them if I was looking at the whole 9 months. And, I do really great at remembering the joy that’s set before me. Zoe taught me that lesson. It’s all the other stuff…
But? My goal, is to get there.
And, I will. So help me God. I will.
Happy Tuesday Ya’ll