I have been sick. I have the worst cold/flu/thingy I have had in quite some time. My sense of time and day have been blurred by the fact that I have been sleeping, laying about, and resting nonstop (when possible) for several days. Today is the first sign of improvement, and the first time that my mind is not so clouded by this illness that I feel I can actually write something coherent here.
It is really hard to be the sick one when you are the Mumma. I am always prepared to slow things down when needed for my little one, but when it is for me I get impatient and frustrated. I also find myself wrestling with guilt when I ask for help. Logically, I know I have every right, but my emotional side always feels I should be the caretaker, not the one in need of extra care. These feelings are compounded by the fact that Jeramy works outside the home, often in overtime, while I primarily stay home; I know what I do during the day is not always easy, but not a single one goes by where I am not aware of how lucky I am to be the one in this family to do so. I certainly hope I never give the impression of taking this all for granted, as I never do.
For now though, while I recover, I have to allow myself permission to rest, to ignore the outside world, and…to ask.