I have seen my surgeon for a followup visit, I have scheduled physical therapy, and I go back to work tomorrow. Time is going forward and hopefully progress in my recovery will begin. BUT for another 6 weeks, I can't drive, I can't bend down, and I can't lift anything more than 10 pounds. Take one guess of something that weighs about 25 pounds. That would be my darling daughter, Samantha. And that means: I can't lift her, I can't swoop her up and give her hugs and kisses, and I can't help with things like bathing or putting her to bed. Sure I have time off from doing housework and changing diapers, but it also means I have to take time off from doing what I love to do the most; taking care of my baby girl. This past weekend, I was literally pissed at myself and my body because I wasn't at Rocky Lake spending Jack's birthday weekend with him. I thought of myself as a bad mommy. And now, I am just purely frustrated with my body because I can't be the mommy I'm supposed to be with Samantha. At least not for a few weeks. And do NOT get me started on the part about not being able to drive. You NEED to drive in Miami. You can't get around Miami without a car.
Ok. Enough complaining. I'm grateful I'm in the recovery process. I'm grateful that hopefully I won't have severe back pain like I used to. I am just beyond frustrated with the process.
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