The pain started around 38 weeks pregnant. A dull pang at the base of my right wrist that snaked its way up to my thumb. It came in flashes, dissipating for days at a time. My OB nodded knowingly when I brought it up at my last check-up before my son was born. Then again, he nodded knowingly when I brought up most ailments in those final few weeks. Every ache seemed to be a symptom of the boy my body was cooking.
A few weeks after the baby came, the pain returned too. This time, it was sharper and more persistent. Adam got me a brace, a giant glove that made it impossible to hold the baby. I churned through bottles of Tylenol and Advil, cautious when I was breastfeeding, then giving way to the desire for immediate relief once I had weaned. I was operating under the hopeful assumption that the pain would disappear as suddenly as it arrived, but every morning I woke up wincing, my wrists crunched under my pillow.
I was always tired and in pain; I felt like having a baby had aged me tenfold overnight. I worried about my capacity to carry my son as he got older, and beat myself up for not intuitively knowing to strengthen my wrists before pregnancy. Eventually, I started seeing a physical therapist who told me that I was experiencing “mommy wrist” – also known as De Quervain's tenosynovitis – a condition that can start in pregnancy when women are more prone to fluid retention and inflammation in the body. The pain, I learned, was the result of aggravated tendons, and often worsened with use. In other words, carrying, lifting, and feeding a baby all day long.
Always a dutiful student, I followed my physical therapy plan, exercising my wrist with care every morning. I found ways to cope – I favored my opposite wrist, which eventually started to ache, too – and propped the baby up on pillows during feedings. But I couldn’t fake my way through one sacred activity: putting pen to paper.
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