26 Weeks, The Athlete Within in The REAL Baby Journey!

I’ve always been an active person. I was in softball, basketball, soccer and eventually volleyball starting as a young kid and all because I begged my parents to sign me up. My parents played sports recreationally but never pushed them on me, letting me find my own interests and supporting me along the way. I’ve always also been quite competitive, both within myself and with others, and playing sports has long been a place to safely and respectfully fuel and satisfy that drive.

I played college volleyball for four years and soon after graduation I joined numerous power leagues around our city. For much of my early 20s I played five nights a week with tournaments on the weekends and subbing as much as I could for other teams between my own matches. In my mid-20s I found running and was instantly hooked. I signed up for 5Ks, 10Ks and eventually numerous half marathons where the persistence, stubbornness, and fiercely competitive side of me fueled long runs with Claire and a continual desire to get faster, go further and top anything I’d done before. I even pulled my sister into it and we began running two or three days a week, completing a half marathon together in 2012. Rob also bought me a FitBit pedometer last year to help me track my activity once I got into strength training and was less focused on mileage. That little machine has kept me moving to reach 10,000 steps every day for nearly a year and I love the objective relay of information, especially now that I’m not doing big long training runs or hiking endlessly with Claire.

And then I got pregnant. I slowed down as the weeks went on but I was still out there on the volleyball court smashing kills and still getting up early to pound the pavement, throwing down 10K runs a few times a week. As the baby kept growing (yay!) and the weeks turned into months, I eventually had to stop playing volleyball both for our safety and because I couldn’t physically keep up anymore. A few weeks after that I was told no more running but that long walks were okay. I shifted my focus and started doing 5-7 mile walks with the dog, hiking in local county parks and along nature trails in our community three or four days a week. I replaced my long runs with long walks and still easily got my 10,000 steps and 60+ minutes of activity in.

Now, with more complications making me just a little more high risk, I was told to be even more careful about how much exercise I get and how much weight bearing (i.e. upright activity) I do. I can still walk but maybe not so far. I don’t have work restrictions but maybe try not to work three 12 hour shifts in a row. For long stretches on my feet I need to wear a belly band support to try and lift the baby off my cervix and while I don’t mind & it’s easy enough to do, it certainly makes me feel pregnant. I’m happy to still be upright at all and that I have careful and big picture minded physicians caring for me. Many women in my shoes going through pregnancies like this are on bed rest (I’d go insane, I think) so I’m incredibly glad my doctors all agree that the research doesn’t support it and that simply putting my feet up more, taking a few medications and cutting back a little on rigorous exercise will likely have the same outcomes.

All of that being said, it’s been such a change for my mind. I know the big picture, I know anything is worth a healthy baby, I know it will all end in December no matter what. But I’ve defined myself as an athlete for nearly 30 years. I’ve been on the move, on the court, out for a run, hiking with the dog…I’ve always measured myself by how active I’ve been lately. It is hard to ‘give up’ on my 10,000 steps per day and harder still to know that it’s coming to a point where I likely couldn’t do them even if I wanted to. It’s simply getting unsafe. I realize how selfish all of that sounds but I’m still me under here, still me behind this bump, and adjusting to things when I’m ‘forced’ to has never been my strong suit. ;)

It’s also hard to convey to the dog that we aren’t going to the park for a long walk or hiking today or going to be together out there exploring the world for three or four hours like we’re used to. She doesn’t get that and while she’s a calm and wonderful dog, I already feel that tug between what’s best for my dog and what’s best for my baby. I know the decision is obvious, I’m not that much of a crazy dog mom, but when she’s been my child for seven years, this is just another transition that I’m finding is more difficult than I expected.

It’s weird to not have a constant running list of chores to do around the house or errands to run or things to do. Sure, those things still exist but I’m trying to prioritize finding time to really, guilt-free, no stress allowed relax. Many people would relish this time, I know, I keep hearing that…but it’s strange and different when it’s mandated, you know? It’s one thing to enjoy the couch and resting and snuggling up with a good book because doing those things are your favorite way to spend time and the act of doing those things refuels your soul…it’s another when suddenly those things you love doing that give you energy back and give you all the warm happies are suddenly not allowed and you need to find new ways to cope and new stress relief techniques all of a sudden.

So I’ve taken to bringing a collapsible camping chair to the dog park with me and throwing the ball for the dog there. I used to stand, no problem, for the hour we’d be at the park or I’d hike around while throwing it but now I sit and I let life pass me by. I bring a book sometimes but other times I just stop & enjoy the view. I leave my phone in my car and I take in the scents in the air, the waning sunlight in the late afternoons, the tumble of drying leaves as they skirt across the ground around me. Claire loves this undivided attention and happily obliges my every desire to do it. I sit there and I soak it up, knowing full well she won’t get me this way again. By the time my life regularly slows down to allow for periods of play time at the park without a child to distract me, Claire will likely be too old to play for that long…or (don’t say it!) she’ll have passed away by then. That thought alone gets me out of the house in any way possible to help my sweet girl get some of her own energy renewing exercise.

So I savor what I still can do. I enjoy that I’m still getting up at 5 AM and going to the gym with my (even more!) pregnant sister and we’re walking and talking on side-by-side treadmills. I appreciate that there are no weight lifting or strength training restrictions and I take pride in a body that is changing and growing while also staying strong, healthy, and fit. There is a new normal around here with an enormously newer normal waiting just around the corner after baby arrives. I’m trying to live in the present though - not the past where an athlete had unlimited time and youth to use her body however she wanted and not in the future where I will be an athlete again but perhaps while pushing a jogging stroller or while keeping one eye on the sidelines for my little one.

I’m thankful pregnancy is as long as it is as you realize all kinds of things. You learn about and accept your own limitations, whether you want to or not, while being simultaneously empowered by the ways your body stretches and adapts to something you’ve both never experienced before. You live in a world that is constantly changing, new aches and pains but also new feelings and new awareness as the baby grows and punches and takes over more of your belly. You learn to accept help, that you’ll slow down whether you want to or not and that all of the pregnant people who came before you were right when they bemoaned any sort of standing up, rolling over or crawling out of bed. I’ve learned to listen to my body and that there is a fine line between being strong/not being a wuss and also being dangerous or reckless just because you’re stubborn. I’m slowly (slowly) learning to identify the clues my body gives me when it’s sore, tired, needing to rest or when it really can keep going. I don’t think I ever listened to it before so it’s new but also more important than ever.

So if you need me for the next little while I’ll be at the dog park, soaking up any last bit of warmth that these Wisconsin fall months will give us. It pulled a swift 180 in the last few days and went from 75 and sunny to now 45 degrees and rainy but I’m hoping for a few more nice 60-70 degree days before September is over. After that I’m going to celebrate that right as I hit third trimester and want to nestle in, the rest of the world hits October and will gladly pile on the stretchy pants and slurp at soup and lounge on the couch with me and not judge at all. This December baby thing works out alright in that way. Right as it’s miserable to be outside, I’m getting slower and happier to just relax anyway. Thank you, universe, for once again knowing more than I do. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll learn that all those other ‘life lessons’ people tell you about all along in life just might, maybe, possibly, be right after all. ;)