The best thing about Dimples being born, aside from having her in our lives of course, was the trip to the hospital. To most women at the end of pregnancy this wouldn’t have even registered, but to me it was an adventure because for the first time in weeks, I got to leave the house. SPD, or Pelvic Girdle Pain as it is now better known, had rendered me wheelchair- and, for a good chunk of the snowy winter, house-bound for the best part of my third trimester.
My life bore no resemblance to the life I had when I found out I was expecting. I had a nanny for PD because I couldn’t lift her, change her nappy, put her in bed, or go to playgroup with her. I basically sat and watched someone else raise my child for a while. I had a pair of crutches for getting up and downstairs (a trip I made once a day), a special wing-backed chair to sit in because our sofas were too low, a zimmer frame for getting around the ground floor, a dog-walker for the dog. Even my husband was chief cook and bottle washer from the moment he walked in the door. I had been, and continued to be, on painkillers for months.
12 weeks after her birth I was finally able to walk unaided to playgroup. Which is at the end of my road. By June, I was able to get on a plane and go on a well-earned break. August saw my discharge from the care of the hospital Physio and in September my specialist trainer was back in my life. Ellie did an amazing job getting me back on my feet after my first pregnancy which was also blighted by SPD, though not to the same extent.
This time around, the damage was much worse: it has taken longer to train the muscles I rely on to hold my pelvic frame together. It has taken longer to get my strength back. Whereas first time round I had a target: wanting to have a second child when I was strong enough; this time I knew there wouldn’t be another baby. I thought seriously about the London Marathon or the Great North Run (laughable not least because I have never been a runner. I don’t think that the words run and fun should ever appear in the same sentence) but have been told that my tenuous pelvic frame rules out running. Ever. Which is a plus.
Sadly, in December, my Gran died after a short battle with cancer. Though very upsetting, her death helped me with a goal. I discovered that Cancer Research were organising Shine, a walking event, in October 2011 and signed up. Given that I couldn’t walk a kilometre without being in great pain, DH advised caution and so I committed myself to a half-marathon, and began training. The event has given me something to aim for, and will help me honour the memory of my grandmother.
My t-shirt and fundraising pack arrived in the post this morning, reminding me that there are a less than 12 weeks until 1st October 2011, when I will put my knackered body to the test. 18 months since Dimples’ arrival and I can now walk 5 miles. If you had met me when I was whale-like and wheel-chair bound, that would have seemed an impossible feat. Yet here I am, training, raising sponsorship and asking if you have any plans on 1st October. If not, consider tagging along!