Still Moaning and Groaning

I am fancy free and I am about to complain. That's right. I have spent this entire blog sounding off on the horrors of bed rest, and now I am totally free to do as I please. I can run, jump, and hide--whatever I want. During the darkest days of bed rest, I swore if I got to this point, I would feel so relieved, so happy and so grateful. After all, haven’t I posted about not taking the little pleasures in life for granted? Oh well. I am woman in the final weeks of pregnancy, and I have some things to bitch about.

Number one, I am too hot. SF is not known for hot summers. In fact, with the fog usually permeating the city, it is known for just the opposite. I am having a memory of corduroy’s and fleece from last summer and yes, you better believed I complained about it at that time, "What kind of summer IS this, anyway??” But that was then and this is now, and it is unseasonably hot right now. No one in this city has air conditioning since it never usually gets so hot. Guess what? It is very uncomfortable to be this pregnant and this hot. I didn’t know. People warned about heat and pregnancy, but I didn’t know. Now I do. I am too hot. Still, despite this complaint, I decided to persevere in doing some activity, because I really am hoping to build up some strength for the big delivery. And, I am trying to take advantage of life’s little pleasures, remember? This brings me to complaint number two: chafing.

One of the activities that I missed most on bed rest was going for walks with my dog and my husband. We are good walkers, we like living in the city and going on long walkabouts throughout town where we stop for various shopping, coffee’s and snacks. I figured a short walk to reconnect with something I love is great, and it has the added benefit of building some strength. I embarked on the longest walk of my pregnancy the other day, all excited to meet and greet the strangers, when I started to feel quite uncomfortable in various rubbing together areas of my body—which, previously, did not rub together. This might feel like too much information, but I don’t care. I was way too hot on this walk, and the moisture and the skin--ouch! In addition, my poor feet, having lived shoeless for months, also started to heat up, and then to blister. Still, I thought as I gimped along with my chafing thighs and my burning feet and the smoothie turning warm in my sweaty palm, who cares? I need to appreciate that I am on the walk at all. Yes. I was doing a good job with this positive thinking until I suddenly felt as if I could. Not. Take. Another. Step. Why not? Because of complaint number three: fatigue.

WTF?? One walk and I am down for the count? After getting home, attending to my injuries and changing into as little clothing as possible while still covering the privates, I found myself BACK ON MY COUCH, which I swore during the bed rest days to burn once I was finished with this business. But here I was, clinging to it for dear life. When the husband suggested an errand, my clinging turned to a white knuckled clutch.

Of course I have a conspiracy theory that Peri knew what she was doing when she set me free right at the precise time the physical realities of a body this pregnant prevent any real activity. She is so sneaky, that Peri.