I’m sure you can probably guess where I’ve been the last few weeks…
I’ve been healing.
I’ve been learning this new and improved family of mine.
My three sons.
Recovery, and please pardon my language, is a mother fucker. But I’m kind of in an interesting place. I’m not sure what happened to me during Van’s birth but ever since May 2011 which marks the last time I passed out while pregnant with Van, I felt absolutely horrible. Completely sick. Exhausted. Dizzy. Disconnected. Since this cesarean section and the doctor fixing whatever was going on in there, I feel like a real life connected human being again. Although one recovering from a pretty extensive major surgical procedure with a bouncing baby newborn boy at the end of it. It’s been both ying and yang.
I couldn’t even begin to describe the pain of this latest birth experience in a visceral way. Or even the aftermath of it. The uncontrollably shaking. The excruciating task of getting out of bed with and then without help. The gas. The burning and stabbing pains at the incision sight which say the nerves are reconnecting and healing is taking place. The bleeding.
But every single day I feel that much better.
I’m just about a month post pardom. I’m still bleeding. My abdomen is still very sore. The stitches have not yet completely dissolved. But I can now get myself up and out of bed. I can go up and down the stairs in my house. I can cough and sneeze without wanting to die. I can carry my new baby. I’m no longer taking pain killers around the clock. I’ve even driven and took a quick trip to the store.
I am dying to get back to living. Especially since it feels like forever since I’ve felt good. Two and a half years is a long time to not feel like a fully functioning human being with no answers as to why. I can’t wait to dive full force into my yoga practice and to rebuild physical strength. I feel as if I am looking forward to the future now more than ever before.
For now I still have to be extremely mindful of continuing to take it easy. To fully heal. To not damage the healing I’ve already done to this point. I know I have a tendency to over do it in general. Making the lesson of this time about not being my own worse enemy.
Recovering takes time and patience, the ability to accept help and the consciousness to not push too hard, too fast. It’s referred to as the fourth trimester for a reason!