"Where have you been?!"
Well, let me tell you. A mother's life is so glamorous. First I had a pile of in-laws in town for Vesper's baptism (went off without a hitch, have pics, cried almost the whole time for the memories of the first baby I had baptized), then I got a call from the school about Blake (apparently he needs training on what NOT to do with scissors), then we all went to a friend's house for dinner and dancing. The next day, we also bought Just Dance 4, and I plan on roping as many people as possible into dance parties with my family. I also noticed that the stabby pain I'd been experiencing had finally morphed into something visible: a rash in a sensitive area. Hmm. No new soaps or detergents, no change I could recall at all in products used.
On Monday, it had become more painful and begun blistering. OWIE! The doc graciously checked it out after Vesper's four-month shots (yeah... four months! Where does the time go?), and promptly declared I had shingles.
My immediate response: "DAMMIT!"
Turns out that stress (though the time with the in-laws was delightful, that many visitors is just stressful, no way around it), suppressed immune system left over from pregnancy, and fatigue (my late bedtimes are doing me no favors, and now I have proof) can trigger shingles in otherwise healthy young folks. SHINGLES.
SHINGLES! from dooce on Vimeo.
Thankfully, I seem to have gotten a mild case, despite the fact that it was centered in my groin region. The pain was intermittent and not so intense I couldn't function or, you know, wear clothing. My biggest concern was giving Vesper chickenpox, which would have required her ingesting some of the fluid from the blisters: easy to avoid, since common decency required I keep the area covered at all times I wasn't showering anyway. We seem to be out of the woods on that one, since the blistering is done and the pain is decreasing in intensity and frequency.
I've spent the last week resting vigorously, which means I've watched obscene amounts of TV and gone to bed at more reasonable hours (mostly). My floor is gritty, my laundry has piled up, the dust is making me rethink black furniture, and I don't even want to open my eyes in the bathrooms. Wait... maybe that is adding to the bathroom problem?
But... I have been able to laugh at the absurdity of my post-pregnancy body woes. Blake's lost two teeth in the last few days and told me all matter-of-fact that he knows I am the tooth fairy. Rob and I are at a great place in our relationship. Vesper doesn't have chickenpox. I got to see two of my dearest friends and a newborn this weekend. Life is remarkably sweet, and I've realized recently that I'm unusually and peacefully content. It is a beautiful thing.
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