I have been pretty busy this past month trying to get everything sorted and figured out before I go back to work. I set my return date for next Wednesday. Since I set my date, it has been a pretty busy period focused on myself, in matters large and small. What has been most surprising for me this time around is how much recovery I have needed. It should sound like a no-brainer given it wasn't my first pregnancy, but what has made so many moments of this period so hard is my constant discovery and surprise at how weak my body has been. More than anything, my (it turns out unrealistic) expectations are what keep tripping me up. I don't recall having as many issues after Lola - and that may have been both because I was younger and also because she was a single pregnancy.
I got pretty severe oral surgery mid-May, extracting a severely impacted adult canine that left me swollen and black and blue (and then green and purple) for days. I am currently in the midst of a relatively long term plan to fix my teeth, which leaves me on some days feeling despair and on other days feeling pretty resigned to it. Now that it's been a month, I cope by not dwelling on it. I just have to occasionally fight waves of panic that this costly and complicated procedure may not work...
I have also decided to tackle my deteriorating psoriasis for once and for all. It has been really bad, likely from a combination of stress and anxiety and my immune system kicking back in post-pregnancy. I grimly marched myself into the dermatologist's office and cringed under his sympathetic clucking as he examined my skin and scalp. I walked away with 4 vials of lotions, creams and shampoos and a follow up appointment. Unlike in the past, this time around I am sticking to the medicines and really trying to fix the issue. I hate steroid based things, but this has been an issue that has plagued me for a while now, and it's time to finally trust that a steadfast, routine and liberal application of medicine will work. So far it seems to be going well.
I started pretty actively working out at the beginning of this month, going to a pilates studio about four times a week or whenever I can get away, doing a mix of reformer and machine work, mixed with barre classes. Turns out, I love barre. I have only done it a few times before and never really looked into it seriously here in Hong Kong because I always had a hefty gym membership. But I joined this studio concurrently to deal with my post-pregnancy fitness (see below). Barre is like ballet-lite and many of the moves transport me back to my pre-teen and teen self when I danced a lot. It seems my body has not forgotten a lot of the poses and postures, even though I am now dancing with a body that is 20+ years older and heavier. Turning my toes out into first and second position, doing releves, plies, battement tendus and arabesques... who knew it would make my heart sing. Unfortunately, I also have as my only point of comparison what my body could do when it was a youthful and springy 16, which can be a bit of a shock. I can't believe I used to be able to leap and pirouette and plie and literally dance on my toes like gravity was a minor afterthought.
As a result of going to the pilates studio and getting more focused attention from the instructors, however, I may actually need to put the kabosh on a lot of my physical activity. I got diagnosed for diastis recti (DR, the separation of the abdominal muscles) despite my OB reassuring me at my 6 week post-natal checkup that I did not have it (an issue I have yet to pick with him, but trust me I will). This in turn got me to go to a physical therapist and then to a GP to figure out how bad it is. To my shock and utter dismay, my DR is pretty severe - at least 3, maybe even 4, fingers wide at its widest point above my navel. I'm scheduled for an ultrasound on Monday to rule out any hernias or any other severe consequences.
What really freaks me out, and plunged me into a deep funk, was the fact that my DR could be so bad that it does not respond to physical therapy, and would require me to get surgery. I DO NOT want surgery again!! How have I gone from a person who has never had surgery, ever, to potentially needing two in the span of a year? And that led me to a downward spiral of thinking about how no one really understands the cost of pregnancy and childbirth and the emotional physical and mental toll that it has on a woman. And all of this led me to grind my teeth like crazy as I thought with a racing heart about how I am about to go back to work in less than a week. As if throwing in three kids and a demanding job wasn't enough, I needed to add a rigorous physical therapy regime and potential surgery into the mix also??
So as you can see, phew. I can be forgiven for feeling at times like my body has completely fallen apart. However, despite acutely feeling the challenge of all of these things, I am grateful that I have the means and can still go and get all of these issues addressed with relatively less worry and anxiety now. Hong Kong remains pretty steady in its containment of Covid-19 and people are still vigilant and conscientious about wearing face masks. As for dealing with all of this while starting work next week - well, it will get done, somehow!
I got pretty severe oral surgery mid-May, extracting a severely impacted adult canine that left me swollen and black and blue (and then green and purple) for days. I am currently in the midst of a relatively long term plan to fix my teeth, which leaves me on some days feeling despair and on other days feeling pretty resigned to it. Now that it's been a month, I cope by not dwelling on it. I just have to occasionally fight waves of panic that this costly and complicated procedure may not work...
I have also decided to tackle my deteriorating psoriasis for once and for all. It has been really bad, likely from a combination of stress and anxiety and my immune system kicking back in post-pregnancy. I grimly marched myself into the dermatologist's office and cringed under his sympathetic clucking as he examined my skin and scalp. I walked away with 4 vials of lotions, creams and shampoos and a follow up appointment. Unlike in the past, this time around I am sticking to the medicines and really trying to fix the issue. I hate steroid based things, but this has been an issue that has plagued me for a while now, and it's time to finally trust that a steadfast, routine and liberal application of medicine will work. So far it seems to be going well.
I started pretty actively working out at the beginning of this month, going to a pilates studio about four times a week or whenever I can get away, doing a mix of reformer and machine work, mixed with barre classes. Turns out, I love barre. I have only done it a few times before and never really looked into it seriously here in Hong Kong because I always had a hefty gym membership. But I joined this studio concurrently to deal with my post-pregnancy fitness (see below). Barre is like ballet-lite and many of the moves transport me back to my pre-teen and teen self when I danced a lot. It seems my body has not forgotten a lot of the poses and postures, even though I am now dancing with a body that is 20+ years older and heavier. Turning my toes out into first and second position, doing releves, plies, battement tendus and arabesques... who knew it would make my heart sing. Unfortunately, I also have as my only point of comparison what my body could do when it was a youthful and springy 16, which can be a bit of a shock. I can't believe I used to be able to leap and pirouette and plie and literally dance on my toes like gravity was a minor afterthought.
As a result of going to the pilates studio and getting more focused attention from the instructors, however, I may actually need to put the kabosh on a lot of my physical activity. I got diagnosed for diastis recti (DR, the separation of the abdominal muscles) despite my OB reassuring me at my 6 week post-natal checkup that I did not have it (an issue I have yet to pick with him, but trust me I will). This in turn got me to go to a physical therapist and then to a GP to figure out how bad it is. To my shock and utter dismay, my DR is pretty severe - at least 3, maybe even 4, fingers wide at its widest point above my navel. I'm scheduled for an ultrasound on Monday to rule out any hernias or any other severe consequences.
What really freaks me out, and plunged me into a deep funk, was the fact that my DR could be so bad that it does not respond to physical therapy, and would require me to get surgery. I DO NOT want surgery again!! How have I gone from a person who has never had surgery, ever, to potentially needing two in the span of a year? And that led me to a downward spiral of thinking about how no one really understands the cost of pregnancy and childbirth and the emotional physical and mental toll that it has on a woman. And all of this led me to grind my teeth like crazy as I thought with a racing heart about how I am about to go back to work in less than a week. As if throwing in three kids and a demanding job wasn't enough, I needed to add a rigorous physical therapy regime and potential surgery into the mix also??
So as you can see, phew. I can be forgiven for feeling at times like my body has completely fallen apart. However, despite acutely feeling the challenge of all of these things, I am grateful that I have the means and can still go and get all of these issues addressed with relatively less worry and anxiety now. Hong Kong remains pretty steady in its containment of Covid-19 and people are still vigilant and conscientious about wearing face masks. As for dealing with all of this while starting work next week - well, it will get done, somehow!
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