Being a Mother has broke me.
This time, it all started with a little overzealous vacuuming.
My arm hurt, like a pulled a muscle. Note to self: get back to the gym, pronto.
A couple Motrin, a busy day, and I forgot all about it.
Late that night, I grabbed the blankets to flick across the bed before crawling in, and when I raised my arms, my right shoulder snapped a hot, fiery Hell and my arm went weak. F#$%^&!!!
I went to bed disbelieving the pain. I woke up knowing I was broken.
A couple hours in the ER, and I walked out with a prescription for anti-inflammatories to help heal the deranged rotator cuff, an appointment to see the Orthopedist for an MRI, and a sling on my right arm (yes, I’m right-handed).
That matched my 7yo son’s sling.
It was laughably inconvenient. I had 3 relatives coming in from out-of-town to stay over, 2 kids to get at 2 different times from school, a wedding to attend that night, my husband traveling that weekend, blah blah blah. It made me notice that I physically can’t do certain things left-handed. Like blow my nose. Seriously, I cannot efficiently blow my nose with my left hand. What IS this?!? Also laughable: I had Spanx & an evening gown to try to wriggle into while one-armed.
But it forced me to slow down. To stop. To let everyone help me out.
The doctor’s instructions were clear: No vacuuming, laundry, cleaning, sweeping, lifting things, doing dishes, taking out the trash. NOTHING.
I’m used to doing everything. All the time. So “Nothing” has been nice. Even typing hurts, so I haven’t been getting much done online, either. It has been strangely…restful.
As a mother, I’m constantly ON. From 6am-9pm every single day of the week I am preparing for, caring for, or cleaning up after my kids. I’m also running a house, doing my writing, trying to maintain friendships, and Oh! Who’s that guy with the wedding ring on that’s over there on the couch? Yeah. Marriage. Kind of important, too.
So as much as busting my shoulder hurt and as inconvenient as this all is, I’m enjoying the perks of being broken and taking this as a hint to slow the heck down.
Because when you break yourself making a bed (<– not a euphemism), it might be time to give yourself a break. Period.