Wednesday night, I curled up in bed and it soon became clear to me the night was going to be miserable. I have had a funky throat thing and when I laid down, I immediately started coughing. And coughing. And coughing. After at least 30 minutes of making a real effort to fall asleep, I threw the covers back, slid out of bed, grabbed my pillow and shuffled over to the chair in the living room. Hubby followed close behind my whimpering body and covered me in three blankets. Which is precisely how he found me in the morning. I managed to get some rest, but I have extreme difficulty sleeping in the chair so it wasn't what I would consider peaceful rest. The next morning I woke to find that my throat still felt like a porcupine had taken up residence near my right tonsil. I was sure I was doomed to have a simply horrid day. Happy Valentine's Day to me. It was also Thursday which is one of my days at home with Reagan. As Hubby got himself a bowl of cereal, I sat in my chair and thought about how I was going to take care of my little girl when I felt so miserable. And then it occurred to me, I would absolutely hate to miss a day of playing with my daughter. The mere thought of it got me all choked up - which, it turns out, is more painful when you have a sore throat. I'll confess that some days when I wake up I am a little bored of life. Yet another day of being stuck inside. Yet another day when Reagan throws a fit every time I put her down. Yet another day of diapers, stacking blocks, reading children's books, and picking up lunch that was thrown on the floor. But from my misery came a revelation of sorts, I love being home with Reagan. Perhaps more than she loves being home with me, but we won't go there. I said a small prayer, got up and set about fixing her breakfast. And as the day went on, I felt better and better. We had fun together, playing and reading and dancing. Hubby gave me a really sweet card with handwritten note and a little gift inside. Reagan gave me hugs and giggles. And it was just a really pleasant day, despite my sore throat. I had uttered this simple prayer that God would give me the strength and the motivation to not just get through the day, but to really soak it up and have fun with it somehow. And He did just that. When Reagan was in bed that night, my coughing and sore throat returned. But the cough medicine did the trick and I was able to sleep in my bed.
I'm just plain happy about all of it. Maybe my illness wasn't cured. I am still coughing today and my throat still hurts and my voice may or may not sound like a faint summer breeze. But dancing with Reagan in the living room, the note from my Hubby, God giving me strength and energy, the comfort of being at home was enough to make me forget that I wasn't feeling well. Its a day I won't soon forget.