Ugh -- why is it that Moms often get hit the worst, and take so much longer to recover?I am indeed the Last of the Mohicans here, defending my personal Alamo of germs with John-Wayne determination and bravado. Go figure. I just can't shake it. Aidan's mending well with each passing day, slowly but surely. He's still ghostly pale and coughs quite a bit, big brown eyes rimmed with dark circles, but his spark is back and that's a heart-warmer. Don's fine -- he takes a dive but usually bounces back quickly. Grace is still really, really congested but seems much perkier this morning (I hope that lasts!).
... and Mommy still feels like crap.
I will acknowledge that there's improvement -- but boy, it's at the proverbial snail's pace! Tiny increments of wellness -- slightly lower temperature ... baby steps toward healing -- a bit more alert than the shuffling through the swirling fog of yesterday. But I can't express how tired I feel -- it's almost inhuman. My limbs feel like jello, my head a heavy boulder. I stand up, shuffle to a destination, do an easy ask, and suddenly need to take a 3-hour nap. Ohhhh, how that would feel so good ... but it doesn't happen. I'm lucky if I get to lay on the couch, cover up with a blanket -- but sleep won't come. Not when Grace is around. Oh, she's as cute as a button, wanting to have a tea party with me, even though my eyes are closed and all I can manage is a hoarse grunt. That doesn't deter my social butterfly, not for second. If there's a warm body, there's a party! She tries to hold the tiny tea cup up to my lips; she cuts up my food on the little plate with her miniature cutlery; she feeds me my "delicious soup" out of a tiny bowl. Poor thing -- this is all she has for a playmate, yet she makes it work. But it's impossible to sleep during a tea party.
I do think I'm finally on the up-swing -- I have taken the turn -- but this is one s-s-s-l-l-l-o-o-o-w-w-w ride.
1 comment:
glad to hear you're making a little progress :) Hope you're back to yourself soon.
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