The Grass is Not Always Greener...

Yesterday was not a fabulous day for my little pregnant self.

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I had a severe headache that turned my whole face into a big grimacing mess. I could only look down. If I looked up at anyone, the headache shot down my neck.

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Braxton-Hicks contractions decided to kick things up a notch. They came on full-force, lasting anywhere from 30 to 60 minutes. Of course everyone knows that Braxton's are just fake contractions and so don't really hurt. Ummm...I think my Braxton's forgot.

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Yesterday was Sunday. Sunday means church. I thought I could make it. I thought that if I just got up and got going I would feel better.

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I was wrong. I just barely muddled through.

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After copying the ward bulletin, the headache hit so hard that I started to tear up. I quickly made my way to the bathroom so no one would see me crying.

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One sister caught me. She asked how I was doing. I gave her my best grimace/smile, told her I was fine, and ducked into the bathroom. The dear woman, who is a trained massage therapist, waited for me outside the bathroom. She firmly told me to follow her, sit down, and relax. She then proceeded to massage my scalp for a few minutes. Not enough to end the headache, but enough to take away the biting edge. It was lovely. More lovely was the fact that she actually took the time to help me. That thought gave me great comfort.

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Later on in Primary I laughed at my silly self while watching another dear sister wrestle with the Sunbeam class. She wasn't their regular teacher. She was a member of the Primary Presidency pinch-hitting when the regular teacher didn't show up.

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(I have to mention...She was dressed to the nines! Every time she got up to chase another Sunbeam down, the seamstress in me marvelled at how beautifully her skirt flared, swirled, and flowed behind her and how well the dress suited her frame.)

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When I first moved from nursery to teaching primary, I thought it would make sense to move me up with the Sunbeam class. After all, I had just taught them for a year. They knew me and I knew them. I thought we would get along swimmingly.

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Sitting in the back of the room with my CTR 7 class who sat reverently, answered respectfully, and payed attention throughout the sharing time, I thanked my Heavenly Father that a wise Primary President put me where she did. As my head pounded and my uterus contracted, I watched as the Sunbeams put their poor substitute through her paces. I was amazed at her fortitude and so glad that it Wasn't Me dealing with those energetic children of God!!

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At the end of church, I rounded up the kids. We were just missing Hubby and Mr. J. After waiting a few minutes, I trudged back into church to see if Hubby was trying to find kids I'd already secured. Nope. He was sitting in his missionary correlation meeting. The same meeting he attends every Sunday after church. In my misery, I had completely forgotten about it. But the dear man took one look at my miserable state, excused himself from the meeting, and drove us all home. I've known men who are not so compassionate as this. I'm grateful my husband IS!

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Once home, I needed to eat something and go to bed. Rose, Anne, and Joe jumped right in cleaning up the kitchen, making lunch, and getting potatoes washed for dinner. Hubby got Cakes and Mr. J changed and settled. It was wonderful! Of course, I still felt horrible, but my heart was light and happy.

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The grass in my yard is very green. Very green indeed! :)