Goals

I need a goal. 

While I was walking around the lake today, I considered how my goals have changed over the past 6 months.  Actually, I considered what a friend told me back when I was still running.  It was something along the lines of:  You’re priorities will change after you have a second kid.  Running is not going to be important anymore.

My goal going into pregnancy was to run throughout, maybe even up to my due date.  I wanted to run the 5k at Urban Wildland that would be 2 weeks before my due date.  Then came the complication and I had to amend.  No more running.  My new goal was to walk as much as possible.  So I did.  Walking lasted about 6 weeks before I was put on bed rest.  On bedrest, there was no exercise allowed at all.  My goal evolved into: see how little you can move in a day.  And, Let’s see how long we can keep this baby in.  When it became apparent that the baby would be a preemie, my goal was for him to be as big as possible.  I willed him to be a big baby because I didn’t want him to have complications.  He ended up big at birth, coming in at 5 -9 at 34 weeks.  But he also had complications.  When he was in the incubator the day he was born, my goal was for him to get stronger and rely less on the forced oxygen.  My goal was for him to NOT have to be transferred to the other hospital.  The opposite happened.  Once at Children’s, I hoped he wouldn’t need a ventilator.  He did.  I spent the following days with the goal of him getting it taken out.  I think you get the idea. 

My goals used to be about me.  Then they shifted to be about my son.  Now that he’s healthy and getting older (5 weeks!), I can start to think about my goals again.  Where should I start?

There’s always Boston.  In the old days, it was only 27 seconds away.  Although, that was a different me.  And it seems too far away right now to be useful.  Sure I’ll keep it in the back of my mind for someday.  But for today, it’s abstract and intangible. 

As for half marathons and marathons, I really have no idea.  I’m sure I’ll run them again, but I’m not sure which ones.  Who knows what my goals will be when I do?  Coach says I shouldn’t compare my current self to my pre-pregnancy self.  I’ll try to keep an open mind. 

The only race I’m confident about is the Kenosha Turkey Day run.  There’s a 2 mile and a 10k option.  I figure I should at least be able to run 2 miles by Thanksgiving.  I’m really hoping, though, that I can make a light run of the 10k.  Finishing the 10k would be nice.  It seems like a reasonable goal, no?

My biggest goal right now is to get this postpartum body back into running shape.  There are still a few puzzles to figure out, like “Can I run when my bra size is this outrageous?” and “How do I fit a long run in between feedings?”  I have been able to keep up my lake walks every day, a feat I’m proud of.  I’m even getting a sore knee and I find it endearing.  The scale has been creeping down.  I’m getting there . . . very slowly.

Next week, I’m expecting to be cleared for running by my OB.   It doesn’t necessarily mean that I should go out and run right away.  But it will give me more confidence that I am actually healing.  Running a mile will be my first goal.  Running a lake will be my second.  Running 2 lakes will make me feel like I’m a runner again.  That’s really all I want to be:  a runner.  

Four Weeks Postpartum

Baby Boy is four weeks old today.  I can’t believe it.  It seems like those 2 weeks in the hospital shouldn’t count, but that’s not how time works.  The newborn days are so very precious to me.  I love these first few weeks of a baby’s life . . . when he’s all helpless and floppy.  And so dang cute!!  It’s the short time before he will grow into his baby face, a face that will resemble his kid face and his grown-up face.  I love his smell and his involuntary actions:  his startle reflex and the way he roots around for something to suck on, even if it’s just my nose. 

Of the past four weeks, only one was scary.  Only part of one, in truth.  (Someday I’ll post about our experiences in the hospital, but not today.)  The rest of the time has been getting by.  Regular life with a newborn.  Feedings every 2-4 hours.  12-15 diaper changes a day.  And lots and lots of cuddles.  He’s a fantastic baby.  He nurses well, which the nurses told me is unusual for a preemie.  He sleeps about 23.5 hours out of the day.  And he only cries if something is wrong.  There’s none of this colic business that I was warned about with early babies.

Big Sister has been wonderful with him.  She loves her little brother and is very gentle with him.  We can’t always get her to wash her hands before she strokes his hair and holds his hand, but she does most of the time.  She’s not jealous yet, but I’m still waiting for that.

My recovery these last four weeks has been rather slow.  I haven’t had a break from the achy abdominal incision since I had surgery.  While the center of the scar feels fine, both ends are still giving me quite a bit of trouble in the sub-dermal layers.  Part of that may have to do with my early discharge from the hospital.  I needed to be close to my baby and wasn’t about to wait around at Methodist while he was in intensive care at Children’s.  As a result, I didn’t spend as much time in bed recovering at the hospital as I would have under normal circumstances.  Another part of it may also have to do with the surgeon’s method.  He decided to use the incision from my previous C section and expand it by several inches on each end.  This was his approach to getting around my errant placenta and doing his best to avoid “taking the uterus.”  (Side note:  It was fascinating to watch him plot out the surgery by using ultrasound.  Also disturbing at the same time.)  (Question:  why does it hurt on the edges of my incision while my whole lower abdomen is numb?)  In any case, I’m in more pain than I was expecting to be in four weeks post-op.  It makes me think that my running days are still a long ways away.     

Although it’s been slow, I’m better than I was two weeks ago.  I’m able to walk around the lake without too much trouble.  Today, I didn’t have the shooting pain in my middle that I had last time I walked Harriet.  I took that as a good sign.  My goal is to walk a lake (or walk an hour) every day.  I skipped yesterday, though, because I was hurting too much.  I’m on the fence about how to pursue exercise in my current state.  Should I wait until it doesn’t hurt at all?  That could take weeks!  Or should I keep going as long as the pain doesn’t get a lot worse.   If you know me at all, you know I’m going to lean toward the latter.  I’ve been sedentary for too long.  Plus, I think recovery will go a little better if I’m using my muscles as opposed to babying them. 

The walks have been great for my mental well-being.  I can’t say that I’ve been in a bad place, by any means, but it’s a bonus to finally be able to get some exercise.  With Daughter, I had postpartum depression and I’ve been waiting for that to settle in again.  It hasn’t yet.  But then, life is a lot different now than it was 3 years ago.  There were so many unknowns the last time around.  It was terrifying.  Plus, I didn’t have the ECFE Moms and I didn’t have my running club back then.  This time around, I feel a greater sense of purpose and a much greater sense of belonging.  I’m a lot happier and more confident, despite the annoying constant ache in my belly.

Clothes are a challenge.  I’m not quite maternity and not quite regular yet.  Don’t even get me started on bras.  (I’m a different size every day!)  But today was the first day, I saw myself as normal again.  A few sizes bigger than usual, but normal.  I finally feel like I’m on my way back.  A few dozen more lake walks and I might even fit into my running clothes again.