Today was my unofficial 6-week checkup...unofficial because it was inadvertently scheduled for 5 weeks after I had Aiden instead of 6 weeks. But, believe me, I'm the last one who's going to draw that to anyone's attention, especially my doctor, who is the one giving me the "okay" or "no way" on my ability to begin activities that have been restricted. So the past five weeks I've done a whole lot of nothing...and am super anxious to get back to doing something, though painful it may be, and though I know I won't be nearly as in shape as I was 9 months ago. That, my friends, is a whole other story. Today we were concerned only with my doctor's answer to the question every woman who's just had a baby wants to know (or at least me), "Can I work out?" Additionally, the question every husband wants to know gets answered in the same doctor's visit...and we all know what that is.
I got a big fat YES (at least to one of the questions)...so you know I came home and got my run on as soon as I could. Yes, that evening I went for my first run post-preggers. And seriously, it felt like I was learning to run again. Despite the fact that I ran up until my 38th week and walked 5 miles 5 days a week in the last two weeks, I still felt incredibly inept and out of shape. So they tell me that most of it is due to the fact that I took 5 weeks off and in the midst of those 5 weeks pushed a baby out of my body and got rid of a bunch of stuff that I didn't need anymore. And I believe them, whoever they are. But knowing this in my head and equating it to the logistics of what I think I should be able to do somehow don't connect, and I find myself frustrated that I can't run 7 minute miles anymore...and begin to wonder if I ever will again.
And then something brings me back to reality...the precious face of my baby boy waiting for me on the porch when I get home. It's in that second that I realize what I have there on the porch in Big Daddy Nate's arms, is far more important than a 7 minute mile or even my ability to run. Those things will come in their own time, but even if they don't, I have Aiden, I have Nate, and we are a family. We'll play and laugh together, grow together, and even run together - at our own new pace...and it will be a far better race than one I could ever do on my own. Maybe that's why God makes our bodies need time to heal. To give us time away from things that can deter us from the gift that he's given in the life that sits in front of us. And while it feels like I am just learning to run, I'm not...I'm just learning to be a mom. The two will balance each other nicely and be a consistent reminder that what I have now is better than I ever was, despite what my head told me for a few short minutes today.