This has been a long winter for us. We got snow in December, and it didn't melt until towards the end of February. That was the norm growing up, but since moving out here, we hardly get any snow during the winter due to a lake effect. I've been really grateful for the snow. I would much rather look at the dead world covered with snow the obvious lack of foliage and greenery that is evidence of the plants taking a long winter's nap. Plus, the mountains and frozen lake have been breathtaking.
That being said, there are always down sides to living in a place that snows in the winter. There are days where I'm grateful for my rural Idaho upbringing. One of these such days happened the day of my 3 hour glucose test. I failed the one hour, so I had to go back and be tested again. I dreaded it. It seems so silly looking back and trying to explain why this particular test seemed to break me. I think a lot of it has been how many hours I've spent in doctor's offices this pregnancy.
At one point, I was going to my regular OB once a month, physical therapy in Murray once a month, and the chiropractor every other week. Then, some months, I also had kids dentist appointments and my dentist appointment. Most of the time, I could take my kids with me, but others, like my physical therapy appointment, I could not. It's hard asking for so many baby-sitting favors, especially since I'm not sure when I'll be able to return them. My physical therapy sessions require a good 3 hour time commitment from my volunteer baby-sitters due to the drive to a from Murray (and that's when traffic isn't bad). So, I didn't know how I could ask someone to take my kids for this 4 hour time commitment to take this test. Originally, Brian was going to work from home, but then he realized he had to be at work. I found someone, and on February 1, I got up early, and went to the doctor starving fasting like I was supposed to.
I tried to hurry and get there as soon as the lab opened. I knew that each minute I was late was a minute before I could eat. It is torture to make a pregnant lady fast. I barely made it out of the neighborhood before getting caught in stop and go traffic. The roads were pretty terrible, thanks to a winter storm. There were lots of wrecks. I'll just say that a trip that normally takes just under 30 minutes took me an hour, and it probably would have taken longer if Brian hadn't looked at google maps to point me to a less backed up route. I arrived at the lab pretty grumpy. They drew my blood to make sure that I was a good candidate for the test, and then gave me that nasty glucose drink that is basically straight syrup. Eh! Then, I had to sit there for 3 hours, getting my blood drawn every hour. I crocheted the edge of a baby blanket while I waited.
Finally, I was done. I left the lab, stopped at the nearest food place, and ran to the grocery store to pick up some essentials, feeling guilty at each step for not running back home to pick up my kids. I felt so weak and sick from that nasty drink, despite the food. I got the few things I needed and headed to the checkout. There was a problem with the card reader, which they discovered as the person in front of me tried to check out. I almost started crying. I had already waited in line, and now I would have to do it all over again. They moved me to another line, and I had to wait again, feeling weak and feeling guilty. I finally got checked out, loaded my groceries, and headed for home. Thankfully, the roads were mostly clear of traffic and snow, but there were still spots trying to drift.
I cried most of the way home. I was so discouraged, felt like a total failure that I had to have my blood tested again, and feeling so guilty about how much time my friend was watching my kids. There weren't any good songs playing on my regular stations, so I switched to the only country station on my second set of presets. It has been years since I really listened to country stations, and I thought, "Sometimes the best pick me up songs are country songs." As soon as I landed on that station, the Rascal Flatts song, "My Wish" came on. I've normally thought the words were kind of cheesy, but they really hit me hard at the time:
I hope the days come easy and the moments pass slow,
And each road leads you where you wanna go,
And if you're faced with a choice, and you have to choose,
I hope you choose the one that means the most to you.
And if one door opens to another door closed,
I hope you keep on walkin' till you find the window,
If it's cold outside, show the world the warmth of your smile.
But more than anything, more than anything
My wish, for you, is that this life becomes all that you want it to,
Your dreams stay big, your worries stay small,
You never need to carry more than you can hold,
And while you're out there getting where you're getting to,
I hope you know somebody loves you, and wants the same things too,
Yeah, this, is my wish.
The chorus really hit home. Normally, I'm one to down play my number of friends how many people care about me. It's a carry-over from my insecure high school days. In fact, I've lost track of the time this last year where I've told Brian, "I don't feel like I have any close friends" or "I'm starting to think this 'best friend' thing is a myth." But for some reason, I had countless faces come to my mind when the main singer sang, "I hope you know somebody loves you," and I knew that there were hundreds that did. I thought of aunts, young women leaders, teachers, mentors, my home ward members, my friends from college, and the wonderful people in my neighborhood, not to mention my family members, both blood related and marriage related. I was filled with the strongest assurance that all of them would be at my side in a second, helping me in anyway they could, if I would only let them. It was kind of like a virtual George Bailey/It's a Wonderful Life moment. There has only been one other moment where I felt so overwhelmed with the love of those I couldn't see in my life, and that was when I was a missionary. Both moments are now quite sacred to me. We really aren't going at this alone, and as silly as our struggles may at times seem, Someone is always aware, and occasionally opens our eyes to see that truly "they that be with us are more than they that be [against us]." (2 Kings 6:16).
I had pulled myself back together by the time I picked up my kids and made our way back to our house. Thanks to the storm, I barely made it into our driveway. I had lessons that day, and I worried that my students wouldn't be able to make it into my driveway. There was nothing else to do; I had to dig it out. I shouldn't have, but I did. I slipped once, catching myself mostly with my hands, but I did hit my belly. I secretly hoped someone would drive by, stop and finish the job, but no one did. But, I knew that they would if I asked. I was just going to shovel one more stretch, just one more stretch. Michael helped a little, but's he's only 6. Towards the end, Emmett and Eva came over with shovels to help. They didn't do much, but I loved that they tried.
I was grateful that I had a few cancellations for lessons, because I had nothing left to give, and I felt pretty sick the rest of the day. But, I was able to finish my blanket, and Brian was kind enough to hold it up so I could take a picture (he's had lots of practice doing this for his mom).
So glad this winter (and pregnancy) is almost over!
