Today started out looking like a great day. I was feeling good, energetic even. It was my day off, and my sister and mom called early to invite Judah and me on a day trip to Ikea. Life was looking good.
Judah and I had "slept in" until 8 am and had taken our time coming downstairs, I made the beds, Judah jumped on the beds, I made the beds again. When we did make our way downstairs Judah broke his fast with some cheerios and fruit and milky tea, while I had a cup of tea and, once my mom and sister arrived, a croissant with jam. In hindsight, it was probably not what 9 out 10 nutritionists would call a balanced breakfast...especially when you have a two inch calorie sucking machine nestled in your uterus.
In any case, we set out for Ikea, a few stressful work-related BB emails and several crying outbursts from a cranky one year old who refused to sleep later, we arrived in Burlington. By then I was feeling decidedly less good about my day. I felt as though my blood pressure was up and my stomach was in knots.
A little before noon I suddenly got the feeling like I had to eat something - fast. My mom was also feeling "ravenous", so our little party made its way to the restaurant to line up for lunch. A few short minutes later, just as we approached the hot food area, I began to feel very hot and knew it wasn't the radiant heat from the Swedish meatballs. I was, however, carrying Judah, and as anyone who does as little manual labour as I knows, carrying 30+ pounds makes a person warm. I thought I would be fine momentarily if I could just set him down. So I did... on the metal bars meant for sliding your lunch trays on.
This should have been my first hint that I wasn't quite thinking clearly.
Realizing, after a moment that a huge kid doesn't balance on a thin metal bar very effectively, I (with increasing mental panic) turned to my sister Jessie and said, "Can you take Judah?". Just at that moment, as the fry guy was asking me what I wanted, I started to black-out. Fry guy's head quickly began to recede into a tunnel of blackness. I think I may have said, "I'm blacking out"...and then I was on the floor of the restaurant with my head on my lap, trying very hard to remain conscious. All the while hearing fry guy's inquiry "Do you want gravy on your fries?"
Lucky for me, I remained conscious. Doubly lucky, I wasn't alone with Judah. As soon as I could stand I stumbled my way over to a chair and sat with my head on a table while my mom and sister lugged my son and purchased my lunch (including an orange juice which I had inadvertently shoplifted in my rush to get off the floor of the restaurant). 30 minutes, a bottle of juice and some food later, I was heavy headed (the opposite of lightheaded, right?) enough to walk around without having to embarrassingly repeat my green-faced, floor inspection of a lunch performance.
This is the second time this pregnancy I've felt fairly certain I was going to have a Jane Austenesque fainting spell (I swear I don't wear a corset), however, the first time had been very early in the pregnancy when I had been feeling all around awful. This time I thought I was out of the feeling-all-the-time-crappy woods. No such luck.
On the whole, today was one of those days I'd rather hadn't happened. And yet, the optimist in me still looks for a little sunshine; Judah just spent his last waking moments pressing his sweaty hair against my face and giving me a kiss.
Even when my day is terrible and I feel like I'm pulled in 15 directions yet doing nothing well, I have solace knowing there is a sweaty, blonde, three-footer ready to love me nonetheless.