Women like to sit down with trouble – as if it were knitting. – Ellen Glasgow, 19th Century novelist
It has been a “what a week” week.
I have been recovering from a cold that turned very ugly. I spent three nights in a row struggling to breathe. The vaporizer we got from Glassheads Wholesale has been doing it’s duty, putting out camphorous steam to keep my airways as clear as possible. Asthma treatments weren’t working well and panic isn’t a good addition to the treatment. While the use of my nose has returned, my chest feels as though a small pachyderm has been resting itself upon it each night. Bruise-y.And because I had been feeling generally crummy, with some symptoms that worried me enough to call my midwife, suspecting possible pre-eclampsia, I wound up at the regular OB’s office for a visit. And while I was there speaking to his midwife I – quite embarassingly – passed out on the exam table. This set into motion a series of tests for gestational diabetes, having satisfied everyone that my blood pressure is AOK and that I wasn’t spilling protein. Off to the lab first thing on a Saturday morning for a one-hour glucose test. The results on Monday were a fail. Tuesday ultrasound showed that our little boy is perfectly proportioned for his gestational age. Wednesday morning found me very hungry and back to the hospital for a 3 hour glucose test… But I passed the time by visiting a new mama and her precious new daughter.
There is NO better consolation. A true blessing.
Thursday afternoon brought the news that I had, in fact, also failed my three hour test and an appointment would be arranged with an endocrinologist who will, presumably, map out a course of action that will offend every fibre of my naturopathically inclined being. At some point that night I realized that I was moving through the stages of grief. I still have no idea what I was grieving for. I suppose I felt like a failure.
By yesterday afternoon, I had read a pair of arguments on the possible over-diagnosis of gestational diabetes. Both of those repeated every. single. thing. that my own midwife told me. Eat well and often, relax, get some exercise. Exercise in frigid New England wintertime can be mopping the floors and scrubbing walls. In my particular case, washing floors on hands and knees has the added benefit of helping a posterior baby to swoop around.
And for relaxation, I am indulging in some knitting. A sweet romper in a beautiful shade of blue for baby. The colour changes dramatically in the light. Here in the late morning light, it looks like sky blue. The previous image was taken earlier in the morning, in the same window, and it looks like the sea.
This pattern is “Gift Wrap Romper” by Carina Spencer and comes with a bonus “Gift Wrap Sweater” pattern and a tutorial for knitting a twisted edge. I am knitting the body in Madelinetosh Tosh DK in “Bloomsbury“and the contrasting band in “Filigree“, which I am also planning to use for a pair of wee slippers and a pilot cap.
Knitting is very conducive to thought. It is nice to knit a while, put down the needles, write a while, then take up the sock again. – Dorothy Day, Servant of God
I would love for you to share what you are knitting, or crocheting, or creating.
And while you are creating, please have a lovely mug of my favourite Cinnamon Milk:
- 12 oz. whole milk, heated
- 1 T. coconut oil (ghee is also very nice)
- 1 T. honey
- 1 tsp. cinnamon
- 1 tsp vanilla
Mix well together in a great big mug and enjoy. I’ve been enjoying two of these each day this week. Lovely.