Last week something happened that never happens. I got sick. At first, I tried to cure myself by implementing my “push through” mentality, drinking some orange juice, and trying to get a little extra rest (ha!). None of those things were working, and I could tell things were actually getting worse. It was at my OB visit that afternoon that I realized I needed to try a different option. “Can’t I just wait until I get a fever and then I will really know I am sick and then I will take the antiobiotic?” I pleaded with my doctor. Her response was a choice (a taste of my own medicine) to either take a more mild medication now or a more serious one if things progressed. The last, and I mean the last thing, I wanted to do while pregnant was to take an antibiotic, but at that point I realized I didn’t have much of a choice.
My husband came home early that day to help. I was still pushing through preparing dinner for the children and ignoring the pain and pressure that had taken up residence in my head, teeth, and sinuses. Once it was ready, I slipped off to our room to rest. I actually got into bed and climbed under the covers. You know what? IT. WAS. GLORIOUS. It felt like staying home from school. It felt like an escape. I might even go as far to say that it felt like a mini vacation. As I lay there huddled up under the covers, I listened to the sounds of dinner, which sound much cuter when you are not in the throes of them by the way. I caught up on texts and scrolled through Facebook just enjoying not having to move. After about 30 minutes, the crew started to head upstairs and things began to get loud. My husband is ever capable and could have handled it alone, but I decided to rouse myself and go at least be an extra body at bath time. I spent the rest of the evening on the couch, and I even enjoyed a home cooked meal by the above mentioned sweet husband.
The next morning I could not get out of bed. My husband was leaving for work early that day, and he stood over me looking worried, confused, and uncertain all rolled into one perplexed look. I’m usually up early to workout and to have a few precious minutes alone before our children wake up. Laying in bed was very much out of my norm. “Do you want me to work from home today?”, he asked. (Isn’t that what we all want to hear?) “YES!” I wanted to shout. “PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!” But I didn’t. I knew he had a lot to tackle that day. I assured him that I would be fine once I got moving and the medicine kicked in, and eventually I was.
Wouldn’t it be nice though to be sick for more than 30 minutes? No one tells you that when you become a mother, you essentially give up that right. Looking back on it, my mom was never sick or at least not that I was aware of. I realize now that she most definitely was, but that she probably just pushed through it just like we moms do. And you know what? I am actually okay with that. It’s just one more thing that makes us all so strong. It is yet another example of how we serve our families, and one more reason that moms are so amazing. We can and we do push through day in and day out. Some of us are fighting a pesky illness, and some of us are fighting so much more. Regardless of the battle, however, we show up. We show up and we give it our best. Every day. I’ll keep doing that, and I know you will too. In the meantime, I am still reminiscing about those glorious 30 minutes last week when I was sick in bed…
Find the joy,