It's a great morning in Minnesota today. The sun is shining and the forecasters promise temperatures nearing 40 degrees.
William and I woke up per our usual 7:45 and I got dressed for the gym. We had our breakfast, watched a little Matt and Meredith and then I started to pack up for my water aerobics class. I buckled William into his car seat and made a quick trip to the end of the driveway to deposit an empty cereal box into the awaiting recycling bin.
And then it happened.
The driveway was wet. The sun was shining. And because temperatures were so warm and melty yesterday I let my guard down. I slipped on an almost-invisible patch of ice. I fell. Hard.
Thankfully I fell backward and caught myself with my right hand before my bottom hit the ground too hard. Unfortunately my right knee bent sideways underneath me and that hurt quite a bit.
I got up quickly and went in the house to gather myself. William was still buckled in the car. When I got inside something overwhelmed me and I started sobbing.
After I calmed down I took a minute to examine myself and realized nothing was really hurt. Except maybe my ego. Even my knee was already starting to feel better.
But I had been totally and completely scared.
We women walk around in these pregnant bodies assuming all the tasks we're used to doing. "I can do it," I always tell Brian when I think he's babying me just a little too much.
But maybe, instead of trying to show we superwomen are cabable, we're actually just being selfish.
That tiny baby inside me is swimming along safe and sound but he/she is at the mercy of me. What I eat, what I drink, how I exercise, how I rest and how I might push myself just a little too much.
I haven't met this baby face to face. I don't even know if it's a boy or a girl. But already those motherly instincts have set in and I know I'll do anything to protect that precious little life.
Today is the beginning of lent and I've been thinking about all the ways I can make sacrifices. Simple meals. Less sweets. No indulgent dining out. More prayer time.
But as I'm nearing the end of my pregnancy maybe the most difficult sacrifice of all would be to slow down and accept help from others. And really, pregnant or not, isn't that the hardest sacrifice for all mothers?
William and I woke up per our usual 7:45 and I got dressed for the gym. We had our breakfast, watched a little Matt and Meredith and then I started to pack up for my water aerobics class. I buckled William into his car seat and made a quick trip to the end of the driveway to deposit an empty cereal box into the awaiting recycling bin.
And then it happened.
The driveway was wet. The sun was shining. And because temperatures were so warm and melty yesterday I let my guard down. I slipped on an almost-invisible patch of ice. I fell. Hard.
Thankfully I fell backward and caught myself with my right hand before my bottom hit the ground too hard. Unfortunately my right knee bent sideways underneath me and that hurt quite a bit.
I got up quickly and went in the house to gather myself. William was still buckled in the car. When I got inside something overwhelmed me and I started sobbing.
After I calmed down I took a minute to examine myself and realized nothing was really hurt. Except maybe my ego. Even my knee was already starting to feel better.
But I had been totally and completely scared.
We women walk around in these pregnant bodies assuming all the tasks we're used to doing. "I can do it," I always tell Brian when I think he's babying me just a little too much.
But maybe, instead of trying to show we superwomen are cabable, we're actually just being selfish.
That tiny baby inside me is swimming along safe and sound but he/she is at the mercy of me. What I eat, what I drink, how I exercise, how I rest and how I might push myself just a little too much.
I haven't met this baby face to face. I don't even know if it's a boy or a girl. But already those motherly instincts have set in and I know I'll do anything to protect that precious little life.
Today is the beginning of lent and I've been thinking about all the ways I can make sacrifices. Simple meals. Less sweets. No indulgent dining out. More prayer time.
But as I'm nearing the end of my pregnancy maybe the most difficult sacrifice of all would be to slow down and accept help from others. And really, pregnant or not, isn't that the hardest sacrifice for all mothers?
Oh Gosh, I'm glad you're ok. I'm the exact same way, trying to do it all and not let anyone "baby" me. I need to take a step back as well!
ReplyDeleteHow scary. I'm so glad you are okay though.
ReplyDeleteI love the message in this post. I'm far from pregnant but I am guilty of that same Superwoman attitude. It certainly doesn't hurt to accept a little help from time to time.