Scattered Thoughts
My ankles are disappearing.
The other day, after I took off my socks and shoes, I noticed I had nearly no ankles. And my feet were puffy like dinner rolls. It was awful!
I have been engaging in de-swelling activities, such as drinking parsley water and eating acorn squash. If someone told me to dance around some chicken bones, I would probably try that too.
I think my hormones are on an upswing. I've been pretty anxious lately. It's so unpleasant. I find myself saying things like: "This baby better be worth it."
I'm guessing that this is not a great outlook to have. How can a baby be worth it? They don't do much at first besides sleep, cry, and poop. I fear I'm in for disappointment.
Then again, I don't have trouble getting attached to things. I've been sleeping with a blanky for 33 years. I don't throw old shoes away because I'm afraid they might be offended. And I love Brian a whole lot. Even though he often drives me crazy.
Recently, when we were walking down the street, we passed a heavy-set fellow wearing a Superman shirt. Brian barely waited until he was out of earshot to say, "Maybe a Supermam t-shirt isn't for you if the "S" on the shirt undulates around your man-boobs. There's something a little too ironic about that."
We saw something advertising vampires of some kind or another (a poster for a book or a movie). Brian said, "Weren't we going to try to anticipate the next big supernatural craze. We've had vampires and werewolves. Have we had angels yet?"
"Maybe," I said. "I think Angels never get old. But we've had magicians."
"Magicians?"
"No. Not magicians. They're not supernatural, right? They just have wands. I mean ... what are they called ... wizards! We've had wizards and witches."
"What about the abominable snowman?" Brian said. And then he thought for a moment. "'I'm not like other snowmen. We could never be together.'"
Today we had a growth scan, and it was reconfirmed yet again that we are having a boy.
We had the same woman conducting the scan who told us we were having a tiger boy. Here's Brian's take on what happened:
She proceeded to point out the baby's goods on the screen, and explained as follows:
"See? There it is. We call it the turtle. Do you see what I mean? Turtle head (points to the penis). Turtle shell (points to the scrotum). Turtle head. Turtle shell. When you see the turtle, it's 100 percent sure."
I complained to the doctor afterwards that people kept thinking I'm about to drop the baby any minute. I asked why I looked so big.
He said, "Most women with their first child, their abdominal muscles are still pretty tight, which holds the baby in. With their second child, their muscles are looser."
"But this is my first child."
"Oh."
"And everyone says I'm carrying very low. A woman asked me if the baby had dropped yet. But he hasn't, right? Why am I carrying so low?"
"Well, every woman's uterus is a different shape and position. Your uterus is probably just more flopped out than others."
He made a motion with his hands like a uterus had fallen out of his pants and onto the floor.
"My uterus is flopped out?"
"Yes."
"I have a flopped out uterus and no abdominal muscles? Great." I don't know what I wanted to hear, but I guess that wasn't it.