My Memorable Bed Rest

Well, I have completed three weeks of complete bed rest. And there are lots of things I will remember about it. Of course there is the usual discomfort and anxiety and boredom that will be ever etched in my mind. But I imagine that my children will have different memories of it than John or I will.

After two and half weeks of laying down, the moon was full and I had not been out side for all that time except to go to my doctors appointments. For me, this is amazing. I don't think I have ever stayed inside for so long, and it was killing me. John very graciously offered to put me in the car and drive the mile up the street to where the moon would rise over the far side of Canaan St. Lake like a great Christmas ball in the inky sky. Cora will probably remember that I was disobeying orders. "Don't worry, Mama, I won't tell the doctors you are being VERY naughty." But I will remember the quietness in the truck as we sat all toasty warm and watched the moon in awe. I will remember the moment Seth silently watched the path the moon etched on the lake and quietly whispered "Look at the moon path. It is painted with millions of dancing stars."

I will remember my dear friends who came over for Thanksgiving bringing a delicious turkey. And I will remember the rare moment of being able to sit quietly talking, Jon, Lara, John and I. Our children were all outside and I will remember wishing I were out side too. When the seven kids came inside, they looked rosey cheeked and winded as they informed us that they cut down some trees. If I had been outside, would the children remember this as the year they all took out the hatchet and saw and cut down some trees in the woods? Probably not. It is good they could have a moment to romp outside unfettered to just be wild and free. And it is good no one got hurt in the process.

Seth may remember bed rest as the time that he and Ben went outside with the hoe and smashed the pumpkin to death in the front yard. He'll probably remember it with the glory of orange, gooey bits flying through the air in slow motion. Maybe he'll remember the sheer joy of monster mashing it with seeds splatting on the porch steps. He might even remember it all to "Chariots of Fire" in his head. I, on the other hand, will remember bed rest as the time Seth went crazy and made a huge mess in the yard that I couldn't clean up. How very Tom Sawyer of him. How embarrassing.

I will remember the countless hours of drivel spent on the coach. But Cora will remember that it was the time when I let her sleep in my arms instead of on her bed. She'll remember taking the back sofa cushions off to make a nice nest for herself where we could snuggle under the "soft" blanket with a toasty rice sock, all warm and safe.

John may remember this time full of angst, but it will be softened by knowing it was the year I made enough homemade ornaments to finally start decorating the back of the Christmas tree.

I'll remember it as the year I missed advent at church with my friends, but it will also be the time that I came to realize there is good even in the most mundane activities.