WARNING!! If you have no interest in reading personal details about the ever-changing body of a pregnant woman, STOP READING NOW. In fact, here is the link to a site that may better suit you:
Still with me? Excellent. I never liked them anyway.
As I begin my 36th week of pregnancy, I have had ample time to watch my body change. Sure, my belly has gotten a whole lot bigger, but I was unprepared for the other surprises that come with growing and internally toting around a small human being.
Some changes are welcome ones. My husband had no complaints when "the girls"made their debut. There is an immediate voluptuousness to a newly pregnant woman. And while that voluptuousness keeps growing, with it come unfortunate side effects. For example, my bra has become a crumb catcher, saving the remnants of all my meals and snacks, as if later we were having an archeological dig. What is making me itch? Why, it appears to be toast from the Pregnolithic era! Eureka!
The same applies to my giant belly. I look like a toddler after I eat, as more often than not, something drops and lands on my protruding stomach. I should start color-coordinating my shirts with what I plan to have for lunch. "No, we can't have pasta tonight- my red shirt is in the laundry." Napkins in My Lap do no good, and at dinner last night, I graduated to Napkin Tucked into My Collar, kind of like Al Bundy settling in for a plate of Peg's spaghetti.
I have begun to purchase- and actually use- some drug store products I never thought I would. Ever. Did you know that Preparation H is for more than just under eye puffiness? And baby powder isn't just for babies, but for anyone who experiences chafing. (Chafing occurs when two parts of your body rub together that weren't even in proximity to each other pre-pregnancy. The pregnant body becomes a series of shifting tectonic plates.)
Pregnancy has given me body parts I never had before, as I now have something called "Cankles." After long periods on my feet, my old slender-ish ankle disappears, and gives way to a soft and shapeless column of flesh that flows seamlessly from my calf to my foot, rendering my adorable ankle strap sandals useless.
My belly button is slowly turning inside out, morphing from an "innie" to an "outie." So there's that.
There are other wonders I could share with you, but even I must draw the line. Message me privately and I'll fill you in.
But if you're that curious, there's probably something kind of wrong with you, and I'm wondering why we are friends.