Before I get to the point of this post, let me just describe for you the scene in my bedroom.
Porpus just puked. Then she and Schween ate it. Now Porpus is bathing Schween in the sun. Enya is playing in the background and I am sitting on a birthing ball eating a popsicle. Something inexplicably smells like corn chips, but only I can smell it. I just looked through some old baby photos of myself that came the mail, which reminds me that there is a possibility that my child may be born with a reddish mohawk. Which would be kind of rad.
So about a million times a day, if I leave the house, I will be asked how I am doing. I’m not sure if people want the short answer or the real answer. Usually I just say, “good.” Sometimes “Meh.” or “Ehh.” IF they linger, or they are a good friend they will get the whole story, including the saga of my Shrek hands.
My hands and feet are in a terrible state. I was worried that I was going to go into the midwife this week to be told that my blood pressure was high. But all she said was to try drinking a ton of water (I do), and eat some watermelon and asparagus. But for the most part she just pitied me and said that life was likely to be horribly uncomfortable until after the birth. And also? My pelvic pain? Totally normal. Just my bones separating. Eegads.
So, asparagus and watermelon. That sounds pretty good. Since I hate complaining and not trying to do anything about the situation, I decided that I should look up some other foods that help with edema. I added tomatoes, celery, and grapefruit to the list. There are many more, but this is a good start.
And a pretty start at that:
LOOK at that hand. You are lucky no feet pictures are being uploaded. You would be puking along with my cats.
FAQ about the hands:
- WHY are they like that? Because I am pregnant. And it is July. And they just are.
- Does it hurt? Yes. Like arthritis in the joints and sort of like the skin will bust open at any moment. Like I have rubber bands around my wrists on a 110 degree day. I can’t open jars or make a fist.
- High Five!?! No.
On the bright side of things, this baby is full term tomorrow, my bags are packed, and we are really excited. I am ready to be done, but trying not to get my hopes up for an early delivery. I just want to meet him so badly. GO TOWARDS THE LIGHT, LITTLE ONE.
22 days to go.