Sore Hips

I'm 36 weeks along now, and my hips are killing me. I'm down to working from home part time these next couple weeks, because sitting upright at a desk all day is now not possible. I'm easing my way into bed rest.

But first, I'm finishing things and preparing things. I'm putting things away and gathering up my resources for a major change. My sore hips are not helping. But it makes sense that there must be physical stress around having a baby. It's a big life change, so it must feel as big, right in your gut, commensurately.

There are two distinct conditions about being at this point physically in a pregnancy. One is that I have discovered physical weaknesses that I cannot wait to address. I need to get in shape, especially if I think I'm having another baby ever. This is not easy on a girl, my friends. I think the combination of having to eat a little better for the diabetes, having to worry about Annika's nutrition, and having had to just physically BE pregnant will help motivate me to exercise and eat better. Nothing else has so far. Maybe sore hips will be the final straw.

The other condition at this point is that my body is trying to get me to wind down. That's what the sore hips are about too. My body has known things about pregnancy all along, things my brain had to go catching up on. My body has changed precisely as it's needed to. My intellectual reactions haven't always been so tolerant. It's no different now with the sore hips. It's not what I want, but I don't have much of a choice. Walking is difficult. I can't bend down and pick things up off the floor very easily. If my will must keep me going, fine. My body is even more determined to get me to stop.

Cold weather helps. It's definitely fall now, and cool outside. I still won't turn on the heat, but it's getting colder. So I'm preparing to hibernate. I'm nesting, and it's a gradual process. Getting laundry done and beds made. Stocking up on supplies. Closing up summertime and getting ready for fall and winter.

I've been seeing Annika's birth as an alarm going off when she's done cooking. I have x-number of weeks to get all of this stuff done, because the bell is going to ring and then it's done. I really wanted to schedule and plan the birth itself, so I knew exactly how much time I had. But along the way I let that go, remembering that some things just have to happen. I only just found out that the birth might have to be planned after all. That means my daughter and I have been on the same page this whole time after all. As I suspected.

But as soon as you plan one thing, something else -- like sore hips -- surprises you and makes sure you are doing only what you need to be doing in order to be ready. It also reminds you that no matter what you do, you can only be so ready.