This week rest has been forced upon me. I didn't realize it, but I do think I was pushing myself too hard. I have started running a lot more, plus doing the level 3 of 30 day shred (& let's be honest, it's pretty intense). On Wednesday I was at a friend's house with both my kids all day helping with her toddler while she recovers from surgery. I did a Costco run for both of us, then stayed up preparing for Solo's birthday party.
On Thursday we celebrated Solomon with almost six hours of play -- me wearing Rainer in the ergo for his naps. Thursday night after the party my body felt sore and tired so I opted to go to bed early instead of out to dinner with friends. My night resulted in lots of tossing & turning, restless sleep.
Friday morning I awoke to a very sore back. I didn't have plans for the day except to be home with both boys. Mr. P left for work at around 7:30, and over the next half hour my back cramped up so badly that I was forced to collapse on the floor, unable to move and with difficulty breathing.
My sweet Solo brought me my cell phone, a cup of water, and fanned me with his sticker book. He made sure Rainer didn't fall off the step in the living room and gave him new toys. I called Mr. P and he was home within 10 minutes.
The pain was so intense I was in tears. I hated that Solo had to see me in such a mess. And at the same time I am immensely proud of how he handled the situation.
In a nutshell the rest of the day included a sitter for the boys while Mr. P took me to urgent care, where we spent about three hours. Turns out it was just a really intense muscle spasm, which was treated with a steroid injection of some sort and muscle relaxants for the rest of this week.
Sometimes we need rest so badly it takes something drastic for our body to force it upon us. Yesterday I took a nap in the afternoon while Mr. P watched the boys. It was probably my third nap since Rainer was born. I simply don't allow my mind and body a break during the day.
Today Mr P arranged for the babysitter to come back and be with the boys so I can rest and he can go to the office to catch up on the work he missed. Normally I would pitch a fit and never allow myself this kind of a break. But something tells me this whole ordeal is supposed to teach me something about humility.
Sometimes I do need to accept help and sometimes I do deserve a break.
So I put the baby down for his morning nap, left Solo playing with play dough on the floor with the sitter, and I'm sipping a caramel macchiato with my feet up and a pedicure appointment in 15 minutes.
Can I get an amen?