Bed Rest: Addressing the Dragon in the Room

Namastè!

I hope you're experiencing copious amounts thereof. It's almost 3 am in my neck of the woods but I'm awake and my laptop is, too!

Have you ever been ordered to go on bed rest? You know, that mandatory voluntary relinquishment of everything you like (i.e. freedom) for everything you love(health!)?

I have.

I cried. I bargained. I raged.

I tucked all those feelings in (mostly--after taking honest account of them, and admittedly wallowing in them for a bit) and...

I went to bed.

I'll be the first to admit, I nearly went crazy a time or two. See, I am naturally an active person. I bake. I cook. I run the Family Namastè empire. I write. I travel! I squeeze as much as I can out of those 24 hours in a day, because those 24 hours often squeeze as much as they can out of me. But this rest thing? I don't want to sound selfish or ungrateful but IT SUCKS.

Honest account time. When you can't get up to your usual shenanigans and bossery, it can take a huge toll on your spirit. It usually does. In addition to whatever landed you at The Juncture, you likely feel like a burden to whomever is entrusted with your care! It really, really sucks, regardless of how much they assure you it's no problem. It is maddening, saddening, and frustrating.

 

After that honest account, what's next? For me, it was moving forward with the very few things I could still do. But first, I had to address my depression about it. It was not sadness--I feel into an actual depression. I didn't care to eat, drink, or see sunlight. All I could do was sleep, because my heart hurt and I felt lower than low. I was beating myself up, but my poor self had already endured all the beating it could handle.

Note: I didn't just magically "come around." I had to address the depression, and the anxiety that accompanied, in a real way. As that healing took place, I was able to carve out my new niche in this stagnant stretch of life. 

Because I made it, I want to share what helped.

Here we goes-ies!

1. Don't diminish your feelings about it.

Bed rest is a hard pill to swallow, y'all. Whether you are an active person or simply used to doing your personal best, the idea of being confined to bed (often indefinitely to boot!) can be daunting beyond belief. It's healthy to take honest account of your feelings, from sadness to fear, and hopefully right back around to hope. Acknowledge each emotion. Own them. Let them pass without setting up permanent residence.

2. Don't let yourself go.

When the initial wave of NOPE fades, pull yourself together. You don't have to get red carpet ready, but do brush your hair. If you wear makeup every day, keep doing that. If you are able to keep even a lite version of your beauty regimen, do so.

Why?

Because if you look your best, you will feel your best. Taking even a few minutes to wash your face and put on hospital-issue lip gloss is just a tiny thing, but that tiny thing will feel momentous.

3. Acknowledge your feels.

I had many. Anger, sadness, guilt, anxiety--you name it. I was so sure things would go a certain way and when they did not, I was crushed. I had plans of prenatal yoga and outings with my mommy group, but there I was, on mandatory bed rest, unable to go anywhere except the doctor's office and/or hospital to be observed.

At first, I tried to put on the bold happy face. I would smile and say how well I was, despite the fact I was terrified and upset. And angry. Can't forget that one. I felt robbed of my dream pregnancy by hyperemesis gravidarium (HG). While I was thrilled about my baby, the entire pregnancy was essentially stolen by this dragon of an illness. I didn't get to enjoy most mama milestones and was fairly traumatized.

...but I learned to let the days be what they would, with the only expectation being that each day is only 24 hours, plenty of time to turn itself around. Which brings me to my next point...

4. Take it all, one day at a time.

I had planned a lot for those last few weeks. I meant to paint our son's room. Arrange his little outfits. Choose thank you cards for everyone who made the journey more bearable.

But instead my days were filled with kick counts, bolus feeds, and Procardia.

I meditate often, and in time I willed myself to appreciate each day. It was a process of course, but I began to see those interventions not as interruptions of my plans, but necessary support to help me carry those plans to fruition. Every day was only 24 hours. I'd focus on each 24 hours rather than weeks, and it was easier. It's more palatable to count hours than it is to count days. Hours are smaller increments, obviously. Smaller hunks of time are defo more manageable for this mama!

5. It's fine to withdraw.

For me, that meant only entertaining my closest family, friends, and colleagues. I didn't talk about my work or watch the news. I didn't entertain any cold soup--bad news or bad outlooks. I stopped being on my social media accounts--I phased out most of my Instagram, and my personal Facebook has never gotten a ton of love to begin with, so I essentially vanished on social media. I didn't want the "practiced" love. I didn't want all the excessive virtual concern because those people would be able to do only just that.

Note: I greatly appreciate and am forever humbled by those who have and do check in on us! I would never diminish your value to our family. We simply didn't want the excess attention--people looking for a story.

I didn't become cold. Instead I just wanted to be around (literally and via social media relays) people who were more like me: my straightforward, humorous, no holds barred crew would help me stay uplifted but also chop my crap if I began a pity party.

That positivity has meant everything. When I have felt up to talking, my Mompadré has given me LIFE. I'm very appreciative of those few ladies.

6. You have every right to treat yourself.

Everyone's treats are different. Mine happen to be indulgent desserts, horrible reality TV, and the occasional online shopping--spree-let? (I like to buy things as they catch my eye but I'm not compulsive, thank goodness--I'd be screwed.)

When I had a particularly rough day, I'd vow to just get thru till 5 pee em. After that, I'd either watch some horrible TV (the characters' drama does wonders to take my mind off me) or have a smoothie or shake patterned after a decadent dessert (fruits, almond milk, and any number of cookie/cake/pie inspired add-ins). Every couple weeks I would log in and check my social stuff and maybe buy some little trinket from my wish list.

7. Writing will be your sanity, even if you are not necessarily a wordsmith.

While I was fairly lax on the blog scene, I made sure to write down lots of reflections and notes so when I felt ready to share our journey, if I ever did, I could have all those reminders there and fresh. I would have them compiled for either a blog memoir or a sweet memento for the family to look over.


They were not perfectly-edited, grammatically-sound pages. I even scribbled some down on napkins!

The point was, even while I was having those boring, difficult days, I would value the ability to look back on them once I had surmounted them. I even took a few horrible hair day selfies.

8. Get mad, mad, and more mad.. and then get over it. Emotional honesty is golden.

I already talked about emotions...but the anger is something else and deserves its own bullet point.

Nothing will make you more angry than having to relinquish your place at the helm of your household. Who else knows the right laundry detergent, grocery items, and cleaning products to get? Who knows exactly which days trash and dry cleaning go out? More importantly, who is going to take the time to make sure these things are done correctly each time? Or will you end up being released to a house in pandemonium?!

For me, that stuff mattered big. I don't like letting other humans handle my chores. Those things are my tasks, and because I have certain ways to execute them, I was more than a little anxiety-ridden at the prospect of not being at the helm. It wasn't so much a control issue as it was a value issue. What good was I if I couldn't even handle simple housewifery while he worked?!

Feeling worthless made me mad. Being pacified (by way of online shopping and bills being brought to me so I could pay them online) made me mad. Owning up to how petty I was being and how pointless my hissy fits were made me more mad.

...then I got over it.

It took me some time. It took me some tears. It took me some tantrums. I had to get over myself, and at times I still feel too high. (Not conceit--just acknowledging that to go from being a valued, respected, productive member of my family to someone who was being brought her meals and walked to the latrine, was a huge adjustment.) I had to really step outside myself and remember why I was even there, which humbled me quite sharply.

I felt better for being honest and actually acknowledging how I felt, though. I didn't pack it away for it to eat at me indefinitely, which would have been unhealthy.

9. It will make you and your mate crazy--and then it will make you closer.

I was probably a big pain in the butt. Scratch that--I know I was a pain. I was moody and fragile. I didn't even fit the normal routine because I couldn't get up or go out. I was a crying mess more often than I care to admit, and he definitely got tired of it some days. He was always supportive, but supportive didn't mean he attended my pity party. In fact, one of the things that drew us closer was how he would always motivate me to manage what I could and leave what I couldn't to whomever the task was delegated.

We had some days where the like was surely lacking, but the love got stronger. And seriously, coming through a tough time is enough to destroy many relationships, so I am unabashedly proud that ours withstood the tests. We are stronger in love and that like ain't too shabby either.

10. You will miss the rest when you're no longer bedridden.


My bed rest was tied to a pregnancy. I was in bed for roughly 20 weeks to give my little bear the best possible chances for a full-term or at least term delivery.


Did I really miss being on mandatory bed rest, unable to get up unaccompanied?


No.


But once the baby arrived and I was able to do everything again, the reality that I had to do everything again hit. I was overwhelmed. I was going from being a sort of tragic princess to back at the top of an empire. It was scary. I was out of practice and it seemed like so much had changed in those 20 weeks. We got a new invoice system at work. The baby was nursing around the clock, so sleep was fleeting.


...and while they tell you to sleep before baby arrives, they forget that the body does not store up rest.


I no longer looked well-rested.


I also didn't care. I was up and out, baby!


Counting down again...and trying to enjoy all the ups and downs in the meantime.


Namaste!


--Taye K.