Thursday, July 3, 2014

How to Wear a Skirt in 90 Degrees at 38 Weeks Pregnant (Alternatively: Later Pregnancy Woes)

Perhaps you are among the many who complimented me on my outfit after I posted this photo on FaceBook, and if so, I thank you.  You did my ego good.


photo 1 (53)


The thing is, you can’t see my ankles in this photo.  I can’t see my ankles, either, but that’s because they are swollen to three times their normal size.


On Tuesday, the day of the night I dressed up in my nine-months-pregnant best to go to a Rotary banquet with Tony, we experienced the hottest July 1st on record.  I saw a thermometer reading of 89 degrees, which is about ten degrees past Too Damn Hot, if you ask me.  Definitely too damn hot for pants, which means I needed to wear a skirt or dress.  And God help me if I wear a leg-baring skirt – people already look at me sideways, as if I’m going to go into labor and deliver right where I am at any given point of the day (we were seated with the fire chief at dinner, and he assured me that he had delivered nine babies in his career, so I was in good hands), and the unsolicited comment on my appearance I hate the most right now is “Oh, you’re so swollen!”  Really?  I couldn’t tell.


I went to the All-Comers Track Meet in a knee-length skirt last night and ten strangers must’ve said exactly that.  Thankfully, my dear friends all lied through their teeth and told me I looked great.  Because that’s what friends are for.


So here’s a glimpse into my protocol for a day of skirt-wearing:


Wake up, take a cool shower, then put on compression socks as soon as I’m dry.  Before work, switch out compression socks for compression shorts.  Come home from work in the early afternoon (I’m on half-time currently) and take off the compression shorts and put on the compression socks.  Wake up from an overheated nap, take off compression socks, put on compression shorts, go pick up the boys from preschool.  Come home, put on compression socks at the same time as compression shorts, drink my seventh gallon of water that day, and put feet up.  When Tony gets home, take off compression socks and just baaaarely fit swollen feet into honest-to-goodness shoes for the evening out.


photo 2 (54)

Sexy socks


Now take that schedule of events and picture me hunched over socks, struggling mightily, huffing and puffing, red in the face, and sitting down on the bed or couch every three seconds for a break.  Every time I scrunch up or bend over these days, the baby kicks me in the ribs and stretches his arms into my pelvis, making the donning of compression socks and shorts even more uncomfortable.  It’s a really great thing there’s not a video recording of me getting dressed every morning, because it’s truly pathetic.




Am I an closer to delivering now than I was yesterday?  Well, yes, of course, but I can’t tell.  I am swollen, yes, and tired, and I can’t eat much without feeling sick to my stomach.  I take long naps and sleep long hours at night (with the requisite potty break every two hours).  The baby has dropped, certainly, so my belly is more torpedo-shaped than before.  I’m skipping Independence Day festivities tomorrow in favor of napping on the couch and keeping my dog subdued.


The big concern at the moment?  My doctor is headed out of town tonight and tomorrow night… I really don’t want to deliver without him, so if you’re the praying kind, please pray that this baby stays put until Sunday.


Until next week, Happy Independence Day, everyone!  Have some potato chips and onion dip for me (I really don’t feel up to it)!

No comments: