Tuesday, February 19, 2008

I have the feet of a Welsh fishwife*

See how purty my feet used to be?

What does that mean really? I don't know, but it was what came to mind when I was looking at my feet yesterday. They look all sausage-y and bloated. Ten little piggy sausages sticking out of two great big sausages. Not the slender appendages I am used to!

In fact, I even - briefly - considered wearing sneakers to work.

However, the sausages still fit into my boots so, even though I feel like a contortionist every time I do it, I put my boots on and went to work this morning. Putting on boots is easier than putting on stockings. Believe me.

Last Friday was supposed to be my last day at work, but I don't do well sitting at home alone with the big screen TV. Squandering my precious maternity leave on Oprah and re-runs of 'Flip That House' really doesn't sit well with me. I know that I will want the time when my niblets are here! I will want that time for you to visit!

Plus, I am not really capable of doing much except sitting at this point, so I might as well sit at my desk - rather than sitting at home being driven slowly insane by the unfinished state of the nursery and the dustballs that are collecting under the couches. On the weekends I keep thinking that I can do stuff, only to find myself completely unwound by the effort later.

And taking the subway is quite an experience when you are measuring 50 weeks pregnant.

So I am taking things on a day by day basis and hoping to at least finish out the week.

We had an OB appointment tonight and the babies' constant movement over the last few days has not changed their positions. Baby A (good baby!) is still head down and Baby B (loveable troublemaker!) is breach. Tomorrow morning we find out how big they are now, and I get to spend a half an hour laying about listening to their heartbeats.

They've been moving like crazy but I am sure that when the monitors are hooked up tomorrow and the Doctors want them to move, they will decide it is a GREAT time for a NAP!

Any hoo, I am doing well - aside from the sausage feet. I got out and about a bit this weekend, though I primarily inhabited the couch. I've lost half a pound since last week. Woohoo - keeping the weight gain right under 5o pounds! As if.

Bring on the ice cream!

Cervix is tight as a drum and we are hoping the babies won't make an appearance until after my OB is back from vacation next Monday...

* No offense to the Welsh, of course. Welsh fishwife just has such an evocative ring to it, doesn't it?

1 comment:

K said...

Don't worry, your feet will the be the first parts to come back. Within a day you will recognize them as your own again.

Here's a good story for the internet. With Wyatt, my water broke at the McDonalds in the wrong part of town i happened to be driving through when I had to suddenly pull over. It was one of those places - stop me if you've heard this before - where you have to be buzzed in, because of all the drug addicts who try to camp in there? And on my way from the counter to the bathroom, a homeless person beat me to the buzzer and rolled in ahead of me (with her shopping cart!). And that's when it happened.

It didn't stop me from getting a quarter pounder to go.

I'd stay out of the subway. And say no to the quarter pounder.