Part 2: Do You Want to Know What Happened...

After being poked, prodded and forced into painful positions for x-rays, the diagnosis was a sprain. What? A freaking sprain?? All this pain, for a sprain? I didn't believe it. Then the doctor tried to convince me sprains can hurt more than breaks because your muscles and tendons get all torn up. Well, apparently that's what happened because in the next few hours my foot turned lovely shades of blue and purple.

But on with the good stuff. I demanded that we still go to Plymouth. Tom tried to convince me that it was okay to stay home and relax, but I wanted nothing of the sort. So off we went, Tom driving and me in the back seat with my leg propped up and my new, shiny crutches beside me.

Source

When we got there we decided to take a walk around the ocean (yes, literally around the entire ocean). Tom walked, and I hobbled as fast as I could trying to keep up. I don't think I really knew how to use my crutches because after about five steps I was out of breath and my abs and arms ached. I had just run three miles the day before, but apparently I was more out of shape than I thought. I never actually kept up with Tom either. If I haven't said it before, he's a tall one (6'8") and his one step is about six of mine even without crutches. Needless to say, his weekend away consisted of a lot of slow walking and waiting.

Despite my slowness, we saw some sites and even decided to go fishing on the jetty the next morning. Since I could only handle my crutches, Tom had a backpack, a fishing pole, another bag with some sunscreen in it and a cooler on the off chance we actually caught a fish (we don't travel light).

On the way out on the jetty (which is a walkway of large boulders, mind you, with lots of gaps)...here's a picture of one so you can get a visual:

{Source} It was like this but a little more flat with larger rocks (deemed do-able with crutches by me and Tom). The man with the sweet pants in this picture is not Tom. Picture this guy with a bigger cooler and a few more bags, and that was Tom. 

So on the way out on the jetty, an old man sitting in the parking lot starts hollering at us, "I wouldn't do that if I were you!" "That's not smart!" and on and on. These rocks really were flat and some of the cracks even had cement in them. And they weren't wet. So was I taking a risk? Yes, a bit. But was this old timer nosey-ing his way into our anniversary weekend that I was determined not to ruin? YES. And he was pissing me off a bit because he was sabotaging my concentration. It takes concentration to walk on big rocks with crutches, you know. So we gave a little wave like we've got this, old man. And went on with our business.

Our jetty adventure was successful in the sense that I didn't fall, but we didn't catch a fish, and Tom had to carry me on the way back because I got scared (the old man got to me). So not only did he have all our bags, the fishing pole and the cooler, he also had my crutches and me on his back. I have no idea how he did it. Good thing he's big and strong.

Later that night we went out to eat. At the restaurant I had only what I can describe as a contraction, in my foot, that radiated up my calf and into my leg. I couldn't help but moan as it happened, and Tom looked at me like will you quiet down? Do you realize we're in a public place? But I couldn't. My foot was in labor and I had never felt anything like it. Except a baby didn't pop out at the end, I just got more black and blue marks. Now that I have been through actual labor, I can tell you this really was an equivalent pain. I don't know what was going on in my leg, but it was not good.

And sticking with the labor theme...on our second anniversary I was sitting in a hospital bed holding my brand new baby boy who was just one day old. It was amazing (and a tad painful, which brought back memories of our first anniversary).

Here's to a pain free third anniversary!

And here we are in the hospital

If you didn't notice, Carter has gigantic feet. Takes after his Daddy.