Bed Rest

Bed rest doesn’t seem like a bad thing at first.  It seems like a good thing and it is.  With my first baby, I spent my time of confinement learning sport stats to impress my husband and watching re-runs of Walker Texas Ranger.  

With my second baby, my friends (who are also saints) watched my toddler and I indulged in long naps and re-runs of Murder, She Wrote.  (I hope you’ve noticed my fine taste in television.) Still, the days seemed to last for weeks and the minutes for hours, just waiting for time to pass.

This time around, everything was more intense.  The “morning sickness,”  the lack of independence, the fear of having to survive another day.  It was hell.  Then, one day I dragged yourself to the door and my neighbor was there, she was taking me to the ER.  I was to weak and confused to argue so I went.  As it turned out I have/had hypermesis gravidarum. I was super dehydrated and losing weight at a frightening rate.  

Hypermesis gravidarum has been made famous by Princess Kate, Dutchess of Cambridge who had it with her first born.  Ironically, Charlotte Bronte (my favorite author) also suffered (and eventually died) from it.   All this to say, I was in bad shape.  But it seems to me that it is when we are in the worst shape that we see the best in others.

Here are some examples and thank you’s (certainly not exhaustive) of the love I’ve received:

-My neighbor baking me cookies, buying ginger ale, and lollypops that somehow really do magically take away the nausea for a little bit.

-Friends who coordinated so that every day one of them took my kids, changed their diapers, dressed them, fed them breakfast and lunch and often dinner too!

-Get Well cards, flowers and balloon.

-Someone to pick up all my multiple prescriptions.

-My brother driving me home and making sure I kept my electrolytes up with gatorade (electrolyte imbalance is the #1 threat to the baby)

-My sister letting me drink all her gatorade while juggling a job, another job and oh yeah another job.  

-My other sister holding my hand and telling me it was gonna be ok, plus changing innumerable diapers and “accidents.”

-My parents for watching over me and cajoling me into actually going to the doctor.

-My friends who did my dishes and cleaned my kitchen.

-My friends who sent me music.

-Those who kept me amused with their blogposts, instagrams, and tweets:)

-My whole family in CA for offering to take the kids and for flying my sister in law out to take care of the kids, the house and me.

-All the offers I didn’t even get to take people up on because I was so flooded with help.

-THE PRAYERS, life is a miracle.  This little one inside me and my own because I know I would have died on my own.  Thank you all!

Asking for help is hard.  

But it is worth the risk.

People probably care way more than you can imagine  (especially if they know Jesus because that is exactly what he was like...he cared and he did something about. )