Tonight I shaved my legs for perhaps the first time in about six weeks. In the time since I last shaved my legs, the little girl inside of me gained about three pounds and developed lungs. Makes me feel pretty lazy in comparison. It may likely be the last time I shave my legs during this pregnancy. My the time I was done, I was out of breath and had to extend my shower because I’d worked up a sweat, even thought I was in the shower.
Being as tall as I am (and certainly not slight of frame), I carry pregnancies very well. I don’t look nearly as huge as I feel, but to the Captain’s credit, he never makes me feel like I’m laying it on thick or sympathy-mongering whenever I wheeze after climbing the stairs or stumble a bit when I lurch awkwardly out of bed.
|I look like I’m pregnant with a normal-sized human being…I FEEL like I’m gestating a manatee.|
I’m in the glory days of pregnancy right now; I feel my little girl moving all the time and my belly is compact and round, obvious enough to get me preferential treatment in public and not get me scowled at when the Captain holds up traffic in the Target parking lot to let me off at the door. Mamas, don’t even pretend that you don’t enjoy the kinds of social and cultural perks that a cute baby belly earns you. It is like kryptonite for cranky people. They can’t resist being nice to you.
During my pregnancy with Pumpkin, I wish I had blogged about the time that the Captain and I had an entire meal comped at a very expensive restaurant, because our sweet server told the manager that I was days away from my due date. I tell myself that it was because they think pregnant women are adorable; not because they pitied me, but the latter is certainly more likely the case.
I’ll take the discomfort of third trimester “largeness” over the lethargy and nausea of the first trimester, any day.
I have a varicose vein in my left leg that makes my entire calf look like a topographic map of the western half of South America (I’m referencing the Andes Mountain range, folks). When I lift up my shirt to show Pumpkin my belly, she literally grimaces in disgust, pulling her bottom lip down in distaste, looking from my belly to my face and back again as if she is asking me, “Are you serious, mom? Put that thing away.”
I actually expressed concerns to my family during our beach vacation that perhaps my water had broken prematurely on our trek to the beach, because of the sheer amount of sweat that was running down the backs of my legs.
Ah, the glamour!
I love it. And I’d do it again and again if we are so blessed.