This is my fifth pregnancy and hopefully fourth healthy birth. We’re nearing week 33, (of 40 for those who did not realize, like myself, that pregnancy is really nearly 10 months, not the darn 9 months they trick you into thinking it is). Of course it can be reasonably argued that you aren’t even pregnant the first two weeks, . . . but we don’t need to send the kiddos out of the room and go into a conversation about all that right now.
I ran with my dear friend this morning. It was the usual five mile route. I’m quite surprised to be running at this point and I probably do present a bit of a disturbing sight to behold. But it makes me happy and the day feels so much better after a morning run.
With the first child I ran to week 34 or so and then stopped due to sciatic pain. I switched to riding my bike around the Rose Bowl. Yes, 39 weeks pregnant, belly the size of a watermelon, and cruising the Rose Bowl loop on a ten speed. Fashion statement or not – - not my smartest move.
With the second pregnancy I ran until week 28 and then stopped because of sciatic pain again. Then I just slept in everyday – - heaven.
With the third pregnancy the doctor put me on bedrest at week 20 because of a small hole in the fetus’s heart. Thankfully it healed within a few months but I did not return to exercise. The Good Doctor, who is extremely proficient at what he does, enjoyed scaring us athlete types with many a serious story. Apparently he’d had a patient who was an avid swimmer and she curtailed her regimen because of a similar disorder in her fetus’s heart. The heart healed within a few months and then she came back for a final checkup. Her husband was visibly upset at the appointment. And upon ultrasound check, the heart defect had returned. Mom had been swimming vigorously again.
It really comes down to the Good Doctor’s general advice: You have nine months to build a life and give it the best start. Is that really too much to ask?
Running has been a part of my life since age 12 or so. I found I could perform decently at it – - probably mostly because it takes little or no skill . . . one foot in front of the other and repeat, and repeat, and repeat. But it can be painful.
My mother-in-law does not enjoy exercise but does it religiously because she is disciplined. When I have been injured I have had to switch to alternate forms of exercise: stationary bikes; elliptical machines; and what have you, and I absolutely detest it. On those days my respect for her grows. I cannot fathom the discipline it takes to do something on a daily basis that feels so tedious, let alone all the sweaty smelliness. But when I am running on the road, or even the treadmill, and the sweat trickles down my back and soaks everything, then it is truly a good run and things are right in the world for the moment.
The sciatic has not caused me any problems this time around, but I do feel my body stretching in new ways that concern me. My dear friend calls the soft belly of post pregnancy “The Mommy Trophy.” Perhaps this little guy is working on adding new dimensions to my trophy. Either way, he is certainly making his presence ever more known as I must sit down to put on my shoes and bend my legs in odd angles to be able to tie my shoes. He will tell me when it is time to stop, and I get the feeling that will be soon.
