I am comfortable in the “I am a runner” category.
Even during the past 3.5 years, when the most I ran was after my toddler, I still called myself a runner. There is some strange breed of human that finds pure joy in running.
Running is a part of my life I LOVE.
In my head, taking away running was taking away my freedom. That is kinda what happens when you accept the responsibility of caring for another human. As a parent, you sacrifice your freedom to that growing child. It was a struggle…
During my first pregnancy, I became too sick to stand & then see because of pre-eclampsia. Obviously, I stopped running. It was an easy decision as I couldn’t hardly walk the distance prescribed to me from my horrible OBs (I have different ones now & also a midwife).
After my Unnecesarean, I had so much fucked up scar tissue that, any movement caused shooting pain. Running was immensely painful. Holding my 5lb 8oz baby was challenging. Lovely, I know 😦 (I have since begun chiro & therapy to help). It literally was so uncomfortable that I talked with my new awesome OB who suggested physical therapy.
At this point I had not met my ICAN group (International Cesarean Awareness Network) & had no idea there was binding, self massage, healing foods, PT, & massages, & scar tissue break up w US, & myofascial release, & MAYA Abdominal therapy, & Chiropractors w Webster technique, Or ISA Herrera’s book •Ending Female Pain•, to help my body heal after pregnancy & childbirth.
All the changes of motherhood had taken a physical & mental toll on who I thought I was. Looking back I can be glad because it challenged me to develop into a stronger women.
In the midst of the transition into motherhood, not being able to run was the symbol of all things I did not know how to handle about becoming a mom/ adult. Frankly, life seemed to halt.
There was no running for 22 months.
Eventually, I gained momentum in other areas of my life.
During that time I was working on what I consider my proudest successes. I became a mother. I breastfed my son. I overcame Post-Partum Depression. I took care of my family & myself. I ate healthy & balanced. I started counseling. I prepared for a VBAC.
There I was, pregnant, again. Guess by now I could definitely label myself a MOTHER! I won’t lie, it was just as difficult going through the mother transitions this second time as it was the first time
My entire family had worked hard to prep for baby number two. I knew I would continue my healthy habits during pregnancy. I knew this would mean that I’d have to allow my body enough time postpartum to heal & that would mean probably modified habits for minimum of 9 months & about 18 months for my body to return to its pre-pregnancy form. I knew I wouldn’t be lookin to loose weight but instead I’d be working to maintain healthy lifestyle inorder to nourish myself and baby. I knew being Mom was an awesome blessing. My heart leaps & skips & jumps that I can label myself a mother.
With all these new tools, why do I keep going back to that need to RUN?
This has me asking: will I ever be content or will I keep comin back to my old habits? Will I keep looking back? Am I still heading forward? Am I not as willing to sacrifice for the better as I thought I was? If I cannot let go of those desires, will I become resentful? and on and on…
What have you had to give up to get what you wanted? Where you able to accept that change?