My (new) favorite kind of weekend

Today we were strolling from Holly Park to Cortland Ave, a cute and bustling street in Bernal Heights, in search of cupcake ingredients.  Avi was holding our hands and stopping to smell every flower and inspecting anything vaguely interesting, like the mosaic on someone's drive and walls, which was indeed quite beautiful to behold.  We landed at a little grocery called The Good Life, and that's exactly how I felt about our lives this weekend.

Granted, Thursday morning I was indescribably exhausted.  I leaned on the counter for support as I brushed my teeth, Avi gleefully brushing his from his perch atop the toilet.  He keeps up an endless stream of chatter in the morning, for which I am grateful.  I was an hour late to work and all day I felt a terrible pressure low in my belly and pelvis, as well as some excruciating sciatic pain.  Encouraged to call my doctor, I did and felt, for the first time this pregnancy, a little freaked out and anxious.  But then Amaya came over for dinner, bearing tulips and cookies from Tartine (Avi keeps referring to both as things that 'Maya brought, which is pretty cute), and I started to relax and unwind.  

Friday we got a tax estimate and sent off some huge checks to the IRS, and I saw my ob, who is no-nonsense and direct, but also kind and compassionate.  Apparently it is normal to feel all the symptoms I felt during my last week of pregnancy with Avi right now, at like 22, 23 weeks. Relieved but still spent, I looked forward to doing very little.

And so that's how the weekend went, save for a yoga class for me and a lunch date with my guys, and it was so lovely.  I slept 12 hours Friday night, and so did Avi, to my delight.  Along with the cupcakes (per Avi's request), we made lamb and green beans, french toast and an awesome veggie lasagna (I am trying to get more veg into my carb-loving boy).  Leeor rubbed my feet and did endless amounts of laundry.  We read books and watched movies.  Avi and I got back into bed both Saturday and Sunday mornings and giggled under the covers.  I didn't study. We talked with family and friends over the phone.  The Good Life.

Sunday night, and my sciatic pain has all but subsided.  The pressure in my belly and pelvis has eased a bit.  I know it might all start up again as soon as my feet hit the hard hospital floors tomorrow, but as my ob noted while my legs dangled off the exam table, at least I wear sensible shoes.  I chose all of this, and I embrace every bit, whether it feels difficult or delightful.  

My yoga teacher is talking a lot about a sacred yogi text, The Bhagavad Gita, this month.  I have found it surprisingly appropriate and relatable.  To paraphrase liberally, it's about a person reluctant to do what he has been called to do, and he is reminded by an unempathic Lord Krishna that he better pull it together.  I have this small, gift-sized version of the Gita that was given to me years ago and happens to sit on our bookshelf within Avi's reach. He has been taking it down and bringing it to me with some frequency lately, saying, Here is your book Mommy.  It's pretty funny.  So today I opened to this quote, which seems to speak to how I've been feeling:

The temporary appearance of happiness and distress, and their disappearance over time, 

are like the coming and going of winter and summer seasons. They arise from sense

perception and one must learn to tolerate them without being disturbed.

I was feeling quite burdened by everything in my life at the end of last week, and now, after a weekend of rest and joy with my family, I feel better.  Maybe I will feel overwhelmed again, in fact, I'm sure I will.  What pregnant woman doesn't from time to time?  But I remain grateful for this body that knows what to do, that carries and houses this little life growing inside of me and is able to love and care for my little boy, my husband, my home, the work I do in the world and perhaps most importantly, myself.