One last post on the horrors that accompanied my time as an incubator for my first cherub, and then I’m done, I promise. My intention is most definitely not to scare you away from giving this journey a try for yourself. If I could bottle up or capture the magic that is feeling little feet and hands batting at your insides I would be a millionaire because there is nothing on earth that compares to the feeling of your little one quickening inside of you.
My feet are always rather fat and pudgy, but these last few weeks I look as though I’ve developed elephantitis of the lower limbs (blood pressure is still a-ok though as of my midwife visit last week). I’m going to treat myself to a “prenatal pedicure” at a place here in Dallas in hopes that it will bring me a bit of relief. And a bit of moisturization, as I didn’t realize how dry my swollen clubs were since it’s now almost impossible to see them.
And two more shots of my tiger stripes because TH and I find them so fascinating.
None of this hurts, but the feet are certainly uncomfortable (sometimes I tell myself that poking my feet with a pin would release the pressure and fluid would come gushing out and make them shrink down, but I don’t do it because I suspect that’s not the case).
I’d do it all again in a heartbeat though, and in 3 1/2 weeks or less you’ll most definitely see proof why.