Saturday, April 5, 2014

The Work of Resting

We are two weeks into this crazy madness that is otherwise known as life with 3 kids. There is so much to be thankful for at this point:

-my husband at home (because really, what would I DO if he weren't here with me?)
-lots of wonderful friends and family coming to visit (and bringing food, I love food prepared by others)
-a generally sleepy newborn (wake up and EAT Fiona!)
-a turn in the weather towards spring (hello cherry blossom trees, I love seeing you outside the window!)
-getting past the first week (because that first week is h.a.r.d.)

At this point, I should be ready to go.  Ready to go for long walks in the sunshine, run around after my boys outside, cook dinner for my family, keep up with the housework, and find my new 'rhythm' with 3 kids. Right?  RIGHT?

Problem: my mind says yes to the above, my body says no, no, no.  I have repeatedly, and stupidly over-done it.  I am recovering from major surgery.   I should know better.  I'm a nurse for freakin' sake. However, nursing knowledge and patient knowledge is different.  Turns out being a nurse makes me suck as a patient. Every part of my body aches and groans, as it tries to rebound from another giant incision. And by 'over-doing it' I mean, I went up the stairs too many times, bent down to the floor to pick things up too much, went for too long of a walk (to the mailbox) and didn't tie myself to a chair for the duration of the day.

Are you kidding me?  The midwife scolded me and my husband gives me a disapproving stare as I go up the stairs again (when I'm supposed to stay on one floor the whole day).  I am feeling like a bit of a prisoner in my own body.  It's hard to find the right balance of just enough activity but not too much.

Let me be clear, I'm not complaining.  It should be 'the life' holding my sleeping beauty Fiona while the world whirs around me.  She certainly is a ray of joy.  I'm a little bewildered why recovery should take so long, but that's not the real question.  The real question is "why do I not know how to rest?" I don't know how to do nothing.  I don't know how to let others do for me.  I don't know how to just be, allow Jason to run after the boys while I sit down (again) to nurse (again) and let my body recover from surgery.  It takes actual work for me to rest.

It takes work to look at the mountain of laundry and say "you can wait."  It takes work for me to walk slowly across the house instead of the usual "running-like" pace I normally hold. It takes work for me to watch the boys run around outside with Daddy while I am confined to a chair.  

Anyone else know what I mean?  

Maybe not.  Maybe I'm the only one who doesn't know how not to walk fast, be productive, beat down my to-do list and sit on my conquered pile of housework at the end of the day and gloat over my victory.  

I actually suck at resting.  I mean, I'm terrible at it.  And as my back spasms again, and my incision niggles, and my uterus fights back, my body reminds me that this is a season for rest and recovery.  There will be days of doing, of being productive, of walking fast and exploring outdoors with my boys- but not yet.  

So I'm practising new words and phrases: Rest. Take advantage. Allow.  Let go.  Let others.  Be still.  It can wait.  Take your time.  Enjoy. Be in the moment.  Calm down. Slow down.  It's okay. 

[And repeat].

I basically need to learn from Fiona because she has this sleeping and resting thing pretty down pat:

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