And no, I don’t meant the end of my life (though, honestly, this flu has brought me pretty close to that!). I mean the end of this gosh darn flu. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.
It has been a week since I was knocked on my ass by this dreadful illness, and I’m just now emerging from my bedroom for the majority of the day. I’m still finding myself totally and completely worn out by seemingly innocuous things like getting out of bed and making breakfast, but at least I’m vertical for a few hours at a time before having to retreat to my bed to rest. I’m so tired of getting winded from walking up the stairs or telling Owen my body is too tired to run around with him.
We woke up to SNOW this morning (I was so excited about the snow that I threw open the front door with Owen and set off our alarm system — oops!). Maybe it was the snow, or maybe it was the fact that I’m going stir crazy after being quarantined for so long, but I was desperate to get outside today. I dropped Owen off at daycare with his snow gear and anxiously waited for the snow to stop falling so I could start shoveling.
I know shoveling is not the most highly recommended form of exercise for pregnant women or people with the flu, but Benjamin was out of town and I knew it had to get shoveled anyway, so I mustered all of my strength and went to work. It felt GOOD to move my body. Finally. My lungs were working hard and my nose was running, but I think it was good for me to emerge from the cloud of sickness I’ve been in and actually do something.
So I’ve turned a corner. Which means I should be back to regular blogging soon.
The one upside of having this awful flu (other than the fact that I actually painted my nails and was able to sit still until they were actually totally dry — something that never happens normally) is that I’ve had plenty of idle time to sit around and think about this baby. No, not the loud one who is usually badgering me with questions and demanding attention and making me laugh all day long, but the little lemon-sized one who is slowly and quietly growing within me, despite everything else going on. The one who I have not spent nearly enough time thinking about, writing to, imagining.
Although being stuck in my bedroom for the last week was a bit lonely, it also felt like it was the first time I was quiet enough to hear this little person. The first time I was really spending time with just him or her. Time I had so much of when I was pregnant with Owen, but is hard to come by this time around. So, thank you, flu, for helping me tune in to what I’ve been overlooking.
Letters and some sort of belly pic/image to remember these precious weeks are coming.