Yikes.  Scary and disturbing, I know.  My apologies.  But you should have to live with these behemoths.

Anyway, I said the other day, “These dogs are barkin’!” and Philip scurried to be close to me.

“Dogs?  What dogs?  I don’t see any dogs.” 

So then I had to explain that this is what Nate says when his feet hurt.  And boy, do my feet hurt.

The doc and nurses chuckle and say it’s the “‘ol end of the pregnancy swelling!”  I don’t chuckle with them.  We’ve tried lots of things to try and get them to go down, all to no avail.  I’ve spent a great deal of time lying down, keeping them elevated (while on my side, I might add.  Ever try it?  Not as easy as it sounds, believe you me!).  I hate it.

“I feel worthless!” I wail to Jac.

“You’re not worthless.  But if they have to cut off your feet and you’ve got nothing but stumps, you WILL be worthless around here.  Lay down.”  Compassionate, no?  Weirdly he sounds like a strange mix of my mother and father when he says this . . .

None of my shoes are fitting.  This is, I assume, what people meant when they coined the phrase “barefoot and pregnant.”  So Jac took me out shoe shopping tonight.  The result?  NOTHING.  And let me tell you, nothing is as demoralizing as not having anything FIT YOUR FEET because they are too fat.  Really.

While we were out searching in vain for shoes, the kids were with a generous and kind friend.  When Jac went to pick them up, she gave him a foot scrub with recommendations from a N.P. friend of ours.  “The magnesium sulfate might take the swelling down.  But foot massage can bring on labor.  Maybe that’s what Annie wants at this point!”  Jac, one to try everything once, gamely prepped to massage my feet with the concoction. 


I’m still not sure if my tears were from my laughter or from the pain.  It was like being rubbed with glass.  Good smelling glass, but glass nonetheless. 

We laughed ourselves silly and then marveled after the rinsing process how soft my feet and Jac’s hands were.  And at the moment at least, I can see some sort of arch in my foot again.  I’ll call it a success.