MM: At our Dr.'s appointment last week, after 9 weeks of complete bed rest, Ginny was given the green light to get off the couch for "1 to 2 hours a day." Needless to say, she is quite happy with this turn of events; she was most excited to be able to cook a meal.
Ginny still cannot be left alone with Hazel; so, her life changing freedom hours have not equated to much change on my end. Our friends and family are a constant at our house. They've got to be tired of us, but they show no signs of giving up yet.
Twenty-eight weeks down, and each week that passes with no delivery is a great thing. We are deeply immersed in what for us has been a 7 month conversation- what will we name this little guy or gal? The list is narrowing, and no we're not telling you.
Obviously, I have been a little quiet as for my take on this whole bed rest journey. There's plenty to say, but very little opportunity to sit down and write it. For me, it pretty much all boils down to an epic lesson in how unbelievably selfish I can be. Your wife on bed rest pretty much forces you to be the guy you wish you were- you serve your wife & you get to be the dad that you always hoped you could be. So, in practice, I am doing the stuff that saints are made of. However, I would quite prefer to perform these righteous acts without all the frustration, fatigue, and mental cussing. I'm doing all the right things, but struggling to do it excellently.
I pretty much cannot relate to my male peers these days. They want to talk fantasy football & razorback victories while I sit wondering why she woke up at 5am and contemplating adding another snack before putting her to bed. The ongoing joke is that I only lack mammary glands. I gravitate to working mothers and look for opportunities to quiz them on their child's caloric intake.
And I love it. I really do. I love being such a vital part of Hazel's life. I know this season will not last forever. And when it is gone, I will miss it sorely. It is this perspective that leaves me most frustrated when I am not enjoying the process of my current status. I know there is a beautiful fragrance to cherish here, but I smell dirty diapers.
As for Hazel, she is quite a trooper. She's walking, laughing and exerting her will on the world. She's not unaware of what is going on. My getting out the door has become something like an olympic event. Gold medals are awarded when I slip out unnoticed and tears are avoided. And gold medals are a rarity.
The current season of life seems like one of survival for all three of us. But all of it is such a great reminder of lessons learned in days past. We're making it. And baby's coming!