Posted by Duff

I’ve probably mentioned before how much I enjoy relaxing. And by relaxing, I mean sitting, stationary, doing and thinking very little. Not worrying. Not anticipating anyone’s next move or want, and being okay with it. I am really good at enjoying relaxation.

It’s just that I suck at in engaging in it.

I expected, with this pregnancy, like with my last, that I would be exhausted. Falling asleep at my desk at work, or on the couch mid-story with The Dervish. Instead, I have found myself lying in bed, awake, a lot. This time, I can stay awake, I just can’t get up once I let myself sit.

 When I do sit, I do it simply for the relief of being stationary, which is apparently how Mystery Child would have it. Somehow,  I get winded from speaking, even though at 14 weeks, there is little evidence that I will ever show. But I still can’t give in to rest the way my body wants me to.  And I suspect I’m not the only mom who feels this way.

A couple of weeks ago, I took a vacation day and scheduled two doctors’ appointments. I had a three hour window between the two of them, during which I planned to recline, whether sleeping or not, and just be. I looked forward to that day.

But upon dropping The Dervish off at daycare, I had a free half hour, so I went grocery shopping, suddenly moved to cook dinner – and from scratch – for the first time in three months. As I left my morning appointment, I decided to fit in an errand.

And when I got home, my now two hours of rest turned into a sink of dishes, 2 loads of laundry, meatloaf prep, de-cluttering, and fifteen minutes of lunch and daytime TV before leaving for the afternoon appointment. On the way back from that, I picked up The Dervish.

That night, I actually slept the whole time I spent under the covers.

I caught a nasty cold the very next day, have since spent most of my at-home time sitting on the couch. “Come ‘ere, Mommy,” says The Dervish. And she is surprisingly understanding when I invite her to bring her toys over to me, and is willing to run laps around the dining room table, barefoot but wearing the hat and mittens she shuns outside, and return to me, exhilarated, for a hug.

She has the same cold, but it hasn’t slowed her down an iota. If it weren’t for MC, I’d have no excuse.