Too much of a good thing

I am not very good at relaxing, taking it "easy", or just plumb sitting around doing nothing. The only exception I can think of is when I'm exhausted from my overly busy life and have to take a time-out for a day or so to do nothing, which is more recoup than relaxation.

I'm sure you can imagine what happened then, when I was told by numerous people to not lift a thing while we were moving this past weekend. I did what I thought was listening, where instead of using all of my abundant energy (and strength!) to carry heavy things and strain muscles, I toned it down. Severely. I think the heaviest thing I lifted was easily less than fifteen pounds. A lot of that is because with this distended balloon stomach you find that your abdominal muscles don't quite function in the supportive way they once did. They are stretching and awkward and can't actually be used for heavy lifting.

So, I took it easy -- for me, which wasn't easy enough at six months pregnant. I started feeling weird achey pains in my nether-regions with some spasmatic action that felt a lot like a muscle twitching. Nothing too serious, just enough discomfort to make me step back and think I should be doing less work. Talked to my sister on the phone and she said I needed to lay down and rest because I was putting so much stress on my body I was having contractions.

I went to sleep on Saturday night certain that my inability to follow directions was going to kill my child. I've never felt such terror in my entire life. I didn't tell Nick most of this because I didn't want both of us to be out of our heads with worry, something he later pointed out was both stupid and rude. The rest of my weekend was spent watching Nick work.


I called my OB on Monday and they wanted me to come in from Sacramento to San Francisco same day. Nick offered to come with me so I wouldn't have to go alone and of course, everything is fine, but because I couldn't listen to "don't lift anything" now I am home, sitting around, "taking it easy" on doctor's orders. Ugh. I think I might die of doing small household tasks, like scheduling doctors appointments and finding dentists and whatnot.

Ah well, no rest for the weary unless it's doctor mandated.