Up until a few days ago, I was feeling pretty good about my track record as a pregnant woman at 38 weeks. Pregnancy? It ain't no thang. I was calm, cool, and confident. Some ladies can't hang—but I was handling it all (as Kid President would say) "LIKE A BOSS!"
Two more weeks to go. What's the worst that could happen? I'm basically invincible, right?
And Theeennnn... I threw out my back. Even worse, while CLEANING. Yes, after all my efforts to stay physically active (exercise, stretch, hike, prenatal yoga, etc.), I somehow destroyed my back while picking up around the house. While being a GOOD WIFE for goodness sake! Guess I'm no invincible mama after all.
For a good 48 hours, I could barely walk or even stand up straight. I was hunched over like an old lady and even tempted to use a cane. A walker sounded dreamy. Admittedly, these were some discouraging 48 hours. I felt pretty useless—although I did decorate some more onesies and had a fantastic time watching every episode of Call the Midwife on Netflix (or "Midwife Abbey" as Jacob calls it). But I was mostly pretty useless. I was also praying that Baby Robinson wouldn't be coming any time soon. I didn't want her to arrive while her mama was so weak and disabled.
Then a genius idea occurred to me: I should see a chiropractor. (DUH.) Long-story-short, Mr. Chiropractor fixed me up real good and adjusted my back—LIKE A BOSS. Apparently, my sacroiliac joint was stuck forward, which explains the "old lady" posture. Who knew?!
I'm still not exactly sure why I am blogging about this, but I think the moral of the story is that I'm not an invincible pregnant woman. *Pride being swallowed* All these months, when people tried to do things for me I would tell them, "Oh come on. I'm pregnant, not disabled!" And that was true, but I found out that I'm a little more fragile than I knew. Lesson learned.
Still, I condition this "moral" with the following:
But I'm still a BRICK HOUSE.
I had the doc "check" me for the first time today. It doesn't seem like Baby is any hurry, and I'm cool with that. 1 cm though. Whatever that information is worth.
Seriously. Thank heavens for chiropractors. I honestly wanted to hug that man so badly, but I got the feeling he just wanted me to take my ice pack and leave. Dude, can I at least brush that dirt off your shoulder? What a Bad-A.