I really must get out of the house.
It's so easy to get wrapped up in things I want to accomplish at home that I forget there's this whole other world out there for me to experience. Granted, I really can't spend much time on my feet these days without causing quite a bit of pain. Still, if I don't get out and engage in life outside of this house more often I may very well go insane.
Aside from feeling stir crazy, my hormones are in overdrive. I'm moody and needy for affection, and I cry inconsolably at things that normally wouldn't phase me.
Last night it all came to a head when I woke up at 1am. I tossed and turned for half an hour, trying to relieve the pain in my shoulders to no avail, with a list of to-do's and worries spiralling through my head. I just wanted to sleep, but the harder I tried, the more elusive it became. Finally, I just gave up and started sobbing through my frustration.
This woke Thom up, and I'm sure freaked him out a bit, but it made me feel better just to have someone to share it with. When I was able to choke out what the problem was, he suggested I roll over so he could give me a back rub. It was the sweetest, most wonderful response--especially considering he had to be up at 4am to catch an early flight.
After the back rub, I felt much better and found myself drifting off after a couple of minutes. As I faded into dreamland I couldn't help but think about what it must be like for a baby who wakes in the middle of the night--alone and scared, or hungry, or uncomfortable--unable to express what's wrong--and how much it helps to have someone there to feel your pain, even if they can't fix it.
I'm going to try to remember this lesson a few months from now when I find myself faced with a colicky or fussy baby in the middle of the night: sometimes all you need is a shoulder to cry on.
A Moveable Feast
6 hours ago