Personal

Brokeback

Those of you who know me might already know that I have a bad back. I started having severe back pain in early college and ended up needing to have surgery after my freshman year. Since then I have always been careful about the restrictions imposed by my neurosurgeon following surgery — no impact sports or exercise and no lifting over 20 pounds… ever.

I wouldn’t say this was “easy” to follow, (who knew that at age 20 I’d fall in love with a boy who lives to snowboard) but I haven’t had an inordinately hard time following the guidelines.

Until now.

Now, I’m not only 25 weeks pregnant, meaning my joints are already compromised and any ab strength I had to support my low back is a faint memory, but I have an 18 month old toddler who has passed the 20 pound mark. All of these factors combined yesterday and I tweaked my back — something which has happened before in the 13 years since my surgery, but yesterday went a little differently.

My pain started out as an annoyance, but by last night it was reaching an 8 or 9 on the pain scale. It got to the point where I couldn’t stand or walk, and I ended up spending the night on the couch because I couldn’t climb the stairs (or even make it over to the stairs to attempt them). Today I visited the doctor and found out that (luckily) none of my symptoms warrant emergency intervention, but I’m still in a lot of pain and can’t do much about it since I’m pregnant. (Hiiii fun drugs, see you never.)

Being debilitated like this is frustrating not just because I’m in acute pain, but because I can’t take care of Prim. I can’t get her in or out of her crib, her highchair, or the bath, nor can I reliably help her climb our treacherous Dutch stairs. And every time she walks up to me and demands, “UP!” I can’t lift her.

KC, being the amazing husband and dad that he is, has stepped up and picked up all of the slack — all while maintaining his crazy work schedule from home. And I’ll tell you, moments like these are so bittersweet, because on the one hand I’m heartbroken that I can’t do things like Prim’s bedtime routine with her, but there’s also just nothing sweeter than hearing your spouse read The Little Blue Truck and singing “You Are My Sunshine” while putting your little one to bed.img_0264And yes, that picture is me standing up “straight” right now. When my back goes out my muscles spasm and freeze everything in an awkward position, making my hips horribly off-kilter. I wish I was kidding or exaggerating, but I’m not.

Here’s hoping that things calm down in the next couple of days.