I believe that God speaks in whispers and when you ignore the whispers you'll get a slap in the face. I generally get two whispers and then a slap. There is something to the number three. I got a couple of whispers in the past month and then I got one HUGE slap in the face. For a few days I pouted about the slap, it stung and still does but then I realized I should be learning something from this slap, not just feeling sorry for myself. This little thought hit me like a ton of bricks last night in bed (you know when you are exhausted but your mind all of the sudden starts to work beyond "the house is messy and why won't baby girl sleep...ever...thoughts.)
I had made a comment earlier in the day to someone that pregnancy and the post partum period are very hard on me mentally because a lot of who I am is based on how my body functions. I have to move, this is just who I am. I had no problem riding my bike with a cast on my wrist and two broken elbows. Pregnancy drives me nuts because I can't run, bike, ski, hike for hours because they are dangerous and rather taxing at this point. I have found swimming helps because you don't feel so large in the water. But swimming is rather labor intensive, plus I have to lie to my kids because if they knew that I was swimming all hell would break loose. I am pretty harsh on my body, I rush it's healing. I never say thank you to it for what it does. I take it for granted. Plus I have lost the spiritual aspect to my body (oh that post yoga bliss I miss you....) To me it is all function. I never really consider what looks good on it, but rather how it is flawed. The poor thing doesn't even get lotioned properly. (I do bathe on a regular basis though, I promise).
But last night while in bed it occured to me: my body IS indeed doing something right now. It is doing a whole lot, not just functionally but quite spiritual as well. My slap in the face was to be kinder to my body and soul. Not to rush this precious moment and the post partum period. They are important in life. I want to remember that while I feel tied down while nursing, my body alone is sustaining another human life. These are important. Way more important than running, hiking, or skiing. So my resolution for this new year and new baby and new change in the family is to take care of me. To be proud of my body regardless of the strech marks it now has or how my thighs have changed, or my stomach is no longer completely flat, but instead to exude the confidence that I had in it when I was younger. In high school I was awarded best body at the end of my senior year and while I was flabbergasted because most of the time I wore really baggy clothes so it was pretty hard to tell there was a body under there (it was the grunge period) I was flattered and knew it was partially due to my confidence in it. Plus this award says a lot of my high school; it was pre everyone is getting a boob job times, no super easy access to porn, MTV played music most of the time not silly shows about flawless bodies in Southern California, plus it was a REALLY small school. At 21 I was pretty much at the height of perfection for my body. I never questioned if I looked hot when I went out...I just knew. Arrogant probably, but I was confident. Now that my body has had three people live in it, cut open, I have nursed two and will do it again, and have even run marathons I no longer have that confidence. I should, the fact that a body can do these things is so much greater than any silly award at 17 or looking great on the beach. (Not that I wouldn't mind looking great on the beach.) But with a week left to go I am no longer going to view my body as fat, slow, cumbersome, but that I am pregnant. I am going to take care of myself for once, sit up straight, put on some lotion, give myself time to heal, and be in awe of the fact that I make food. I am sad that it has taken me three pregnancies to figure this out but hey, third time's a charm right? I may even let the husband take my picture.
Here is a Travis video that I think is pretty cool right now.