Today, I am distracted. I’m wearing my doula hat, so must be ready to dash off to the hospital at a moment’s notice. So I am.
Being ready means I’m having trouble concentrating on anything else. I don’t know why it affects me this way, but it does. Perhaps it’s because of last night’s poor sleep. In general, I’m sleeping much better than I have in years, but once in a while, a bad night still raises its head, forcing my head from the pillow.
For news on the “you-don’t-say” front, I wore high heels last night. I have friends who spit their coffee out at that and immediately took it to the gutter. We’ll pause a moment for them to clean up and calm down…
All righty, then. My POINT, is that a few months ago, I had reason to think I would never wear nice shoes again. That I would spend the rest of my life wearing clumpy old-lady shoes, meaning no disrespect to old ladies, of course. Or their footwear. I completely understand why they have to wear such shoes. I’ll be perfectly willing to wear them when I’m ninety or so, too. I’ll even wear them now if, when I need to, I can wear the Other Kind.
Like Valentine’s Day dinner. We went out to dinner, I wore a dress, and my fancy black high heels with the shimmering stars on them. I was even able to walk in them, without pain.
And THEN… and then I changed the heels for a pair of lower heeled shoes (but still not those orthopedic clunkers) and I went to dance class. I danced for an hour in normal shoes. My right foot hurt a little bit, but not any more than usual.
I can only say this means that the acupuncture has done wonders, and I am very, very grateful. I will wear the clunkers when I go to the hospital, as I will probably be on my feet the whole time I’m there. This may cause a setback, but I’m prepared for that.
For now, I wait for the call, with my doula hat on and excitement drumming through my veins. I love helping a woman through her labor. Even if my feet hurt.