Recovery is a tricky thing and there's so many things nobody tells you and then there are things you won't know until you are the one recovering. And just because you've done it before, say five other times, doesn't mean this time will be the same.
Right now, I am in the fourth trimester of pregnancy. Baby is no longer causing discomfort from the inside, but rather from the outside. Emily is a little colicky and I am sleep deprived. Which, sadly, makes for a mom that is as cranky as in the third trimester of pregnancy. We love her, don't get me wrong, but after a few hours of fussing and walking holes in the carpet, she may join the other children on the sidewalk with a for sale sign on her forehead. It's a good thing she's so yummy!
(They weren't for sale here, but they were attempting to sell their wares at our annual neighborhood yard sale.)
One of the more difficult things about recovering when you have other children, is the fact that they insist on eating and having clean clothes. And since I'm such a big fan of laundry, having a newborn doesn't help the situation at all.
Life doesn't stop just because you have a baby and unfortunately Dad can't take six months off to do all those things so I can lay around the house.
The other difficulty in recovery is this:
She doesn't look at ALL mischievous to you, does she? She likes to do such things as dumping the rest of my Pepsi in the front seat of the van, drawing on herself with marker, eating dirt and/or rocks, joyously dumping toys etc. It makes it hard to sit and rest whilst chasing a VERY busy toddler. I'm starting to think recovery is the wrong word for the stage I'm currently in.
Then there's the fact that I hate laying around the house. I love my house, but I don't want to look at it all the time and I get antsy. People like to make comments on how amazing it is that I'm out and about, but what they don't realize is that it's a matter of sanity. If I don't get out...well, let's just say everyone is happier when mom can get out of the house a little. Even with a newborn. (Heck we went to Fiji when Andrew was three weeks old. I think a trip to the park is not a big deal!)
Of course, there's always moments that make it all worth it. (Even though I offered to sell my sister my children last night. Funny thing, she didn't take me up on it!!) I love my children so much it hurts. And sometimes it does hurt.