What you see is bed rest at its best. While I was admitted to the hospital on 12/4, the wrist band is yet to come off*. You might call it laziness. I call it intentional.
Although I have had multiple occasions to have it cut off, I chose to keep wearing it a little longer. I feel like it is the materialisation of my inner voice telling me insistently to get back in bed, and stay there. It serves to hold me accountable to what I am signed up for, both willingly and unwillingly. It accompanies me when I am alone with my thoughts and whims.
It speaks of a time when time stood still and life came to a screeching halt. On December 3rd, I thought I hit the end. I saw my life flash before my eyes and prayed that this was not "it." I was not ready for this pregnancy to be over, and yet all the signs were pointing in that direction. On that sunny Monday in Arlington, my contractions grew stronger and closer together and I imagined myself being wheeled in to conclude this phase of my life. My senses heightened and panic struck in. It surely isn't time. It couldn't be time. I didn't want it to be time. All I could do is pray.
An email, a phone call and a trip to the pharmacy later, modern medicine kicked in and saved the incident. My contractions slowed down, but my mind continued to race and my body continued to change. I found myself paging the specialist early Tuesday morning: something was not quite right and I needed solid proof otherwise. Proof that could only be furnished through monitoring, prodding and probing. The 2 hours Jeff and I spent in L&D that morning were nerve-wrecking and eye opening: life changes so fast, anything can happen, and hardly anything is under your control. Then, the machines stopped and we got sent home.
Since then, I have been taking it even more easy on myself. When I thought that I could not slow down any further, I found more ways to shed off "must do's," "should do's," and "to do's." Again some people might label it laziness, but here again I call it intentional. We expect so much out of ourselves and the people around us, it is amazing we ever sit down and look around. Even on bed rest I was thinking up ways to make sure life around me continues the way I had "organized" it. But what I realised is that letting go, loosening the grip, and allowing others to do things differently is okay. In fact, it is more than okay; it is enriching. And while I had been working for a long time on "changing" myself, my perspective, my behavior, I had made little progress. Now, though, with my forced bed rest, the physical reminder I wore, and the growing belly I am carrying, that change has come to me. It has sought me out and I cannot resist it anymore. I have to give in, and I have given in. Slowly I have become a different person, and this new person is someone I am proud of and hoping will stay even long after my physical reminder is shredded.
*My OB ended up cutting it for me at my last visit on 12/10.
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