Here's what I've accomplished so far today:
I watched the sun come up from behind the shade in my bedroom because I awoke at 5:30am and could not get back to sleep.
I have clipped my toenails.I have finished work on a marketing brochure.
I have watched political pundits on tv try to back-peddle on their pre-Tuesday assertions that my girl was finished (wrong, suckers!).
I have read email messages, and was actually able to answer most of them promptly, instead of putting them off until the child is otherwise occupied.
And I have not made a meal for my daughter, nor have I done any other household chores, in 24 hours.
Holy crap. Am I on vacation?
Nope. I am "taking it easy" and "trying not to move" for at least the next 16 hours.
As Thalia so wisely pointed out in her comment on my last post, there is conflicting evidence on the subject of bedrest when it comes to post-transfer activity. I very well might be restricting myself unnecessarily. But, I bought the couch potato school of thought advised by my doctor during my last IVF cycle, and I was blessed with Isabella. Whether my inactivity helped, I'll never know. I'm doing it this time around because for me, it seems like the right thing to do. Plus, I have absolutely no idea how I would handle Isabella without being hyper-aware that every little muscle exertion or heart rate elevation could be causing a problem with the three within. This Type A is erring on the side of caution.
I've hauled my ever-expanding, no-running-allowed arse out of bed exactly four times today: once early this morning to get my progesterone injection downstairs, once later on for a bathroom trip, another trip downstairs to get some coffee, and finally, a hugely exciting 5-minute shower.Last night, I listened to Isabella screaming and crying "Mommy" while the hubs did her bedtime routine. As hard as it is on me to have to lie here and not move, and to be unable to pick up and cuddle my daughter, it is a million times harder on her because she just doesn't understand why her mommy isn't rocking her before she goes to bed, or dancing with her in the living room. She is lucky to have a great daddy who is simultaneously caring for both her and me, but I'm the 24/7 constant in her life, and I've taken myself out of commission.
She's since started asking the hubs, "Mommy? Coming?" and telling him, "See Mommy!" She visits me up here in solitary, and we look at photos of "Baby Bella" on my laptop. Then the hubs takes her back downstairs to play, and she waves bye-bye to me while calling my name.
As much as I am loving the time away from the muck of childcare, I miss her.
Next up: A post on the number of threads in my sheets (don't trust the package advertising. It lies! Conduct counts by hand!) and fun toys you can make for your kids from a single tissue.