God uses situations to compose us into the persons He designed us to be. Of course, we have the will to go along with His plan or fight it like a claustrophobic cat. I admit that being put on bed-rest has had me feel like a claustrophobic cat, and may have even acted out on this feeling at times. It's not hard to see though God using this situation for not only myself, but my husband.
If at all feasible, I would be doing a semi-big project daily and/or constantly be on the go. Yes, I find time to relax and fiddle on the computer as such, but I feel much better as a person if I've done something productive (alongside all the chores for the day). Otherwise I do feel as if I've failed and, if graded, would receive an F for the day. On the other hand, my husband does not beat himself up if a chore is not done and instead he did something relaxing. Neither of us, admittedly, have a personal healthy balance... even if we balance each other out.
For the next few weeks (or maybe even month and a half?) we have to trade places. Not even just trade places, but take on completely different roles. Instead of me ignoring any sort of physical discomfort (which I usually did throughout the pregnancy; writing everything off to just being pregnant), I'm now on constant alert for the possible contraction count to raise about 4/hour. Little Bella doesn't feel so little anymore either, and now sitting and laying are very uncomfortable for me (standing seems to help but I'm not allowed to stand). Dishes, laundry, the pets, and any other household duty I must now *gulp* completely ignore. Housewifery hiatus means no work... ever. A really big difference from not even having weekends (ladies know: housework doesn't stop on weekends). My life is going to be a perpetual lazy weekend until Bella fights enough that modern medicine can't even keep her baking in the belly any longer.
My husband, on the other hand, is used to being able to take weekends completely off from any sort of work. Instead of being able to carelessly do what he wishes, he's not only got to take care of the home and the pets, but his almost-paralyzed-pregnant wife. Who moans and squirms. Who hates requesting anything. Who'd rather be scrubbing the floor with a toothbrush than sitting idlly for so long.
Admittedly, I was shocked at how self-disciplined he was. He allowed himself the leisure to go on the computer in-between duties. After a productive round in his game, he'd get up and do dishes, refill my water bottle, tidy up a room, take care of the cat's. Sunday he even went to church without me (which I was happy he did) and picked up some groceries. When he came home he served me Oreo's while he made brownies that my mom sent and my Macaroni and Cheese. Whilst it's all very awesome, it's also very hard to get used to. It's hard to remind yourself to ask for a water refill instead of just walking 10 feet to do it yourself.
Tonight my mom flies in to help us out until next Sunday. She'll be doing what I typically do, and also helping get the nursery all the way together. Basically she'll be getting things done so that all Miles will have to do is maintain after she leaves. I know Miles could do everything she's coming to do, but he also has to work 5 days a week (and not on a 9-5 schedule) and so it would take him a lot longer to get the house in the shape she'll get it in. It may also help me mentally be able to learn to depend on someone for most everything aside from assisting me in the bathroom. Since it's my mom, I've bossed her around enough during childhood ;-) I'll just have to remember what it's like and apply it to Miles. I've got to remind myself these people are doing this because they love me, they love Bella and they want to help and take care of me. No one is doing this (including Dr. Buehner who I resented for the first day of bed-rest) to hurt me.
Last night was hands-down the worst night of pregnancy. I became very afraid around 2:00 AM when I was in the bathroom and wondering if I was about to go into serious labor. My back was aching, I didn't feel well, and I felt all around really uncomfortable. I kept my hands around my stomach to see if I had any contractions and luckily I didn't (or don't think I did). So I practically napped through the night. After that round in the bathroom of freaking out and wondering if I should re-wake Miles and ask if we should go to the E.R. or call the doctor, I went back to bed thinking if it lasted for another hour I'd become legitimately concerned. Fortunately all that sickness went away, but Bella would not stop squirming. I'm unsure if her feet are in my ribs, but my right rib cage feels just ... weird. It's hard to sit or lay down comfortably, and when I DO lay down... she begins moving all around and making life just miserable.
At 5'0" I'll admit... I have very little room to hold a bigger baby than Bella and am getting really anxious about the possibility that she'll get even larger and this will become even more uncomfortable. Times like last night, I felt like a claustrophobic cat. A panic, a fear, and a worry all rolled into one.
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