… So my obituary will read and people everywhere will wonder if that’s even possible and then I’ll rise from the dead with my wrecked right calf and say “LOOK! RIGHT HERE! THIS IS HOW YOU DIE FROM A CHARLIE HORSE!”

Anyone who has kept up with our pregnancy knows that one of the subplots has been my leg cramps. They were brutal in Nov/Dec and in the past few weeks have managed to wane. Maybe I’m finally drinking enough water. Maybe my muscles gave up. Who knows. Frankly, I’m sleeping without agonizing pain so I don’t care why they stopped.

However, they’re back. And boy do they know how to make an entrance. Tuesday night I was very restless and my legs quite achy. At six in the morning Wednesday I flung myself out of bed screaming bloody murder because my right calf was locked in a charlie horse so excruciating I swear to all things holy and not that my muscle was being ripped open. As I stood doubled-over at the side of the bed Shelton jerked awake asking what was wrong and all I could muster was “Cramps! Cramps!,” to which he thought meant I was giving birth to the baby right then and there.

So in the darkness of our room amidst screams of anguish and blind confusion, Shelton helped me back in to bed where I moaned in agony for another ten minutes while the charlie horse from the depths of hell coursed through my leg and Shelton massaged the muscle and moved my foot just so as to make it go away. Finally, it went away and we nestled back in to bed for a brief nap before starting our day.

I’ve spent Wednesday, Thursday and now Friday limping. I don’t think I could have done this much damage to my leg taking off on a Forrest Gump-style run without any stretching or training. My muscle is completely wrecked. It hurts like hell. I’m hobbling around all gimpy like and it’s making life harder in general.

I have yoga Monday night and I’m hoping that I’m either healed by then, or that my brilliant yoga teacher is able to make me stretch it out.