Find the Good February: Gratitude in the Third Trimester
It’s always in early February I find myself googling, ‘Average temperatures Nebraska by month.’ When does spring come again? Not just second winter and cold spring, but real, sunny, warm spring? Hint: It’s pretty much Easter.
The gift of children in February—when you excitedly tell them they have a snow day, just playing along because they are excited, you begin to actually become happier about it. Snow is quite magical, after all.
February and I have long been enemies, and it seems like my timing of the most difficult parts of pregnancy somehow always coincide with February as well. With my second and third babies, I slogged through the end of the first trimester in February, all of my crunchy organic tendencies crushed as I acquiesed to pure survival on very cold Gatorade from plastic bottles and other things with carcinogenic food dyes and frozen burritos with 47 unpronounceable ingredients. With this baby due in just 3-4 weeks, February marks the fullness of the third trimester struggle.
Last year I became more aware that I did not desire to spend every February just waiting for it to be over, and wishing it were already March. With my one and only life, why would I wish it away! I was working through the Masterclass through The Woman School, so had lots of extra awareness of who I wanted to become, and what skills I needed to move towards that vision. In my heart of hearts, one thing I found I really desired to embody was a particular perspective of life. To face each new day and situation with openness and eyes that are fearless, vulnerable, gentle, confident. To truly see the beauty in what I have been given. To look beneath the surface and search out how my situation could be a good thing for me, even if difficult or unpleasant. To marvel every day in the miracle of it all and to live in this perspective of gift, that all is a gift.
Always so excited to go play in the snow!
Until 5 minutes later, anyway…
So, basically, what I found was that I desired to live in an incredibly grateful posture. I’m definitely still a work in progress here at this point, but it is good for me to write these things down to remind myself and continue to make it a priority. February of last year then became, ‘Find the good February,’ a term I made up to work on gratitude just because it began with the letter F. And would keep me from continually calling February, ‘The armpit of the year.’ Not helpful.
I knew as February arrived this year, I would need to fully embrace find the good February once more, particularly as I realized my life would need a substantial shift for the last 6-7 weeks of pregnancy.
Nearing the end of my third pregnancy, we decided it was a great idea to move at 36 weeks. The third trimester for me the first two times around had always been a time of very minor discomfort— mostly business as usual. Those who stated they were, ‘so done being pregnant,’ I interiorly scoffed at. Jeesh, dramatic. It isn’t that bad! Thankfully, whenever I seem to get smug about how easy something is, the Lord in his wisdom and providence protects me somehow. The last few weeks of this particular pregnancy gave me some much needed perspective, empathy, and humility.
It all began when I was walking through Walmart. Doesn’t every move to a new home include some random trip to Walmart? We put an offer in on a house the very last day I had set for our deadline in order to be moved by the time we had a baby. We moved August 7, 2020, and Vincent made his arrival on the 27th of that month. The nesting instincts were in HIGH overdrive!
As I made my way around the store appearing to be lost (usually more of a Target shopper, if for nothing else but aesthetics) my very pregnant body went from walking normally to limping slightly to needing to put nearly all of my weight on the cart to continue [the several miles] to the checkout. Up until that point, I had been working out multiple times per week and walking for half an hour daily. This walk should have been nothing.
I shrugged off the pain in the left side of my lower back, as I had things to do! It was our moving day! To make a long story short, my Sacroiliac joint had become unstable and my super loose ligaments were wreaking all sorts of havoc in my lower back. I tried many, many things, but found ultimately, the most effective treatment by far was actually just not walking. Our rolling office chair became my best friend. And I relied on the help of many, mostly my mom. Looking back now, I realize it was less than three weeks total from the time the issue began to when I had Vincent, but it seems like a vast span of my pregnany. Likely, because it took just so dang long to heal.
August 2020 with my new best friend (the rolling office chair)
My midwife told me I would probably be surprised at how fast the back pain would go away after delivery, and that most women with SI problems recover fairly quickly. So, I didn’t expect that even the following summer, nearly a year later, I still couldn’t take long walks, couldn’t run or do really any intense activity. Even as long as 18 months after Vincent’s birth if I would take a long walk or hike, I would still feel that same joint soreness and knew it was not fully healed. In becoming pregnant again, I feared that my loose ligament situation might happen any time, even from the beginning of pregnancy. This time around I did not work out, do extra walking at all, or do any of the things I had so religiously done in previous pregnancies. And my body held out until 33 weeks, when one fateful zoo trip was all it took.
Apparently I had become a little over confident that I could handle walking. And also, apparently I underestimate how much walking a person does at the zoo, even if you don’t go to the far exhibits. It was with no particular sadness that I let Brian take the children without me to the creepy swamp portion, while I waited, feeling already like I was overdoing it. (although I must admit I was relieved to see them all come out in one piece with no major mishaps, children lost in the dark, or any family members eaten by gators.) Later that evening I knew I had pushed my body too far, but didn’t expect that days later it would continue to hurt, even a trip for one item at Target being way too much for my SI joint.
There was a particular evening at the end of January in which the full realization of what was happening came upon me. Life would need to begin looking much MUCH different. I would need to set some major boundaries with my amount of steps. All the saying no. All the messy house. All the lack of accomplishing anything tangible, as my precious steps must be guarded for having to wrestle my 2 year old into the carseat (yes, an ongoing battle that continues to this day, I fear) and putting him on the potty, and generally keeping myself and my family fed. That’s pretty much it.
On top of this somewhat daunting task of doing as little as possible for 7 weeks, there were two main hangups that seemed to magnify the actual reality of what I was going through.
What Magnifies Current Suffering?
1) Fear of the future
The evening it really sunk in that this SI problem was back I allowed myself to have a good old wallowing in self-pity cry about it. I complained. I whined. I forecasted the most dire possibilities, and let myself imagine they were inevitable— surely, now I would actually never ‘get my body back,’ (I think there should probably be an entire post dedicated to this phrase, for better and worse) and would continue to just be in a state of constant need to rest and recover, never to be able to run again until years after a pregnancy, at which time we would likely want to grow our family again and then another pregnancy would wreck me once more. And of course, it would get worse every time. This probably would limit the amount of children we could have! I would never be able to lift weights, hike the Camino, or feel strong and whole and healthy in my body. And on top of this, when I get old I will probably have arthritis in my joints.
After this cathartic grown up tantrum of sorts, my emotions were calmed and I could look more objectively at the thoughts and emotions I was having. In order to move past certain fears and feelings, a person must allow themselves to fully feel the feelings. Let yourself go there. And then I understood myself better and could relate this (something like this ish) to the Lord.
‘God, I’m scared. I’m afraid of suffering, not just because of pain, but because I feel like something I need is going to be taken away from me. I want what you want. Or at least I want to want what you want. But, I don’t see how this can be a good thing—You know I need to able to walk to take care of my family! I am afraid of what will happen next. Give me the wisdom to understand how to live this next day to best preserve my body and to surrender the outcome of my future to You.’
2) Not Feeling Understood or Communicating Well to Others
The other thing that caused the most angst in me was that my husband cannot read my mind. This comes up as a problem here and there, and it seems our relationship never suffers from a bit more bluntness (admittedly, only on my part— Brian could probably benefit from being slightly more sensitive in communication) directness, and clarity.
As I cried about it and assumed that he should understand everything is now different, it turns out he did not. The problem was that I wasn’t in a ton of pain a the time. But I realized that the only reason for that was I was not walking much at all. If I were to walk around the block, I would be wreaked for a week. This was not fully understood. Since Brian is a Physical Therapist by trade, I think I took for granted he would completely understand every single thing that was happening to me. What put me over the edge was when I was trying my best to avoid walking and then he just casually mentions, “Hey, could you go grab my green quarterzip out of our room?”
The NERVE of that man! To ask that of me?! He should be serving me!! My reply was actually quite helpful in clearing the air. “NO! I can’t go get that for you because I can’t walk around! NO! I really don’t think you are understanding how bad this is!”
Brian, “Well, it’s not like last time, right?”
Me, “YES, it is like last time! It is exactly like last time! If I continue to do what I have been doing I am never going to be able to take walks with our family. Is that what you want? For your wife to never be able to take a long walk or be able to run or do anything!” Etc, Etc probable hyperbole and exaggeration to try to make my point. There may have been more tears.
After this conversation, (as it turns out was more effective than passive comments indicating he should be helping me more) he realized the shift that needed to happen. After we were both on the same page about how this was going down, I felt oh so much better and less alone.
Finding the Good
And, alas, we are back to where we began. What is the title of this post, anyway? Find the good February! Here are a few of the best things so far that have come from my self-imposed pseudo bedrest situation.
Almost 37 weeks! Still holding out through accepting some hard limits. It’s an illusion to me that I seem to appear in this photo half the size of how I feel currently. Perhaps the black clothes…
1) It Turns out Physical Limitations are Extremely Spiritually Provoking
This post is actually weeks in the making simply because I have had just so many thoughts, insights, things I am learning or have learned or am rediscovering.
2) Huge Perspective Shift
For whatever reason, our local HyVee’s parking lot is usually extremely full. Perhaps they need all of the extra space due to having actual humans at various counters throughout the store in addition to a bank, pharmacy, coffee shop. One can almost always find a few teenage employees chatting casually near the checkouts, as opposed to our Aldi, in which the one superhuman worker scans items at the speed of sound. As I pulled into HyVee recently my mind reeled. “Why in the world are people taking all the close parking spots?! Don’t they realize some people have trouble walking!!!?” And along with this indignation came a pride check that I almost never forego taking the closest spot, and thus a vow that after this when I can walk easily, I will take spots in the back.
We are so self-centered— not on purpose, but just because we lack the needed perspective to see reality at times. How many others are limited physically? A LOT of others. The elderly, handicapped, homebound, injured. This small cross is a gift for my greater vision. The gift of wisdom or perspective often comes hand in hand with suffering.
3) You Make My Life Fruitful
One week several years ago I had a really ‘good,’ day. The house was clean and shiny. Children napped well and I got some solid prayer time. I did the things and fought the fights and was productive! Then, the following day was just a miserable failure. Apparently the previous day was not sustainable and I felt super discouraged at my weakness and poverty. Somehow I was given the grace to truly see beneath the surface of these days and make a judgment. I am not the giver of life, and I am not the one who ultimately makes my life fruitful. Who am I to say what is a ‘good’ day?
Judging my life based on my measure lacks eternal perspective. What if in my suffering and my offering of this in union with Christ, my life becomes more fruitful to save souls? What if it isn’t in the things I think deserve a gold star or my check boxes or my idea of perfection that holiness lives? What if my prayer is so much more effective because of my infirmity? What if my day isn’t good or bad based on how productive I feel at the end of it, but based on accepting what is given, loving in my weakness, surrender, dependence?
Several people in my life need significant healing and prayer. These intentions have been on my mind and on my heart. When I think about it, I would gladly trade this time of physical limits in order to bring any sort of healing to these situations. And I do believe God can use me in this way to bring beauty and healing from suffering.
4) Slowing Down and Dependence— Fulfillment of Desire
It’s funny when we get something we want it often doesn’t feel like we thought it would. I related my situation to a friend who told me, “Well, it seems like the Lord is inviting you to slow down and depend on others!”
I want both of those things! I want to be present to my children and live a slower life. I want to be able to ask for help, and thus invite others to ask it of me as well, forming true community. But ouch, I apparently want these things on my own terms.
Prayer after Sunday Mass—From my journal entry, 2/5
Our kids were sick one particular Sunday in February. Well, two of them actually. On the bright side Brian and I split up Sunday mass and got to go by ourselves. We do this once in a while, and it is really great to be a bit more recollected during the liturgy, even though taking children is of course a beautiful sacrifice as well.
Below is what I wrote in my journal while dwelling in gratitude in the presence of God.
This is where I was praying, so that helps.
“What a gift to purify these last weeks [of pregnancy] and my nesting urge of consumerism and shopping and stress.
What a gift to prepare my children and family ahead of time to serve rather than be served, and that we all help. And to mitigate the shift of no longer being the baby.
What a gift and a grace to spend more time in stillness of body, which can lead to stillness of soul if I am open to receiving.”
“Keep your face always to the sunshine and the shadows will fall behind you.”
