Itchy Belly, Swollen Feet and Sexuality

As I round the home stretch (10 weeks to go!), I find I am working harder and harder towards that inner peace and optimism that seemed to come so naturally only two weeks ago.

It's taken me a while to be able to admit this in cyberspace, but I am the unfortunate victim of what seem to be some pretty serious stretchmarks. They are bright red - like actual wounds....and span the very bottom of my belly (underneath, that part I can't really see) all the way up to the belly bottun which they frame in all it's popped out glory. They are really horrific and no matter how much I lather on the cocoa butter and the baby oil, they are only getting larger. It's sad really, I had really nice skin on my belly....my husband always pointed out how smooth it was.

I used to wear a 7 1/2 shoe....the last pair I bought was a 9....can you believe that?? And, like stretchmarks, I've heard the larger feet don't ever go back to how they were. It's a miracle people have so many kids; with all of these permanent dysfunctions it's hard to imagine feeling sexy again. The worst part of my foot situation is the swelling. I could probably manage an 8 1/2 if the width of my feet didn't double towards the end of each day. I mean, the saying "my feet swelled up like sausages" was never more true. Instead of being flat on the bottom and kind of flat across the top, my feet are literally cylinders from which peep pink Vienna sausages. And kneeling down - forget about it! I tried to look under the bed today and my legs are so swollen that it felt like I might actually burst.

I am also very much on the irritable side. I berated my husband for not doing the laundry or the dishes....as if miraculously he would begin doing something he never does. I got home today and knocked a glass over. The shards still fan around the kitchen because really, I can't bring myself to deal with it. And my patience for other people is waining. Today when I left work, I had 4 bags to lug to the car and, as per usual, no one thought to ask me for help. And usually I ask for help because why make myself suffer because other people are lazy or rude. But today, I just couldn't do it. My feet looked like sausages (as seen through the house slippers I put on to leave work), I was walking at a snail's pace - hobbling really - quite obviously struggling to put one foot in front of the other and my bags kept falling off of my shoulders so I'd have to stop and slowly teeter downward without loosing my balance to pick it up again. It was really pathetic. And although people can comment on how big my belly is and say "awww, baby" 100x, they don't seem to notice (how convenient) when I may need some common courtesy. Really it's a shame. And I just didn't speak to anyone on the way home...I couldn't play nice - I was pissed!

But since this is supposed to be my positive space, I will end on some more positive notes.

My baby is quite the little gymnast. He/She flips and kicks, punches and turns around, plays head, shoulder, knees and toes, knees and toes and then flips around again. It's amazing to watch.

My husband told me yesterday that the impossible has occurred - my belly dwarfs my chest! My whopping triple D's look puny compared to the wonder that is Baby Fuller. I had to laugh at that since I'm sure he NEVER could have imagined calling anything about my breasts small.

I daydream about a slimmer, happier Mr. & Mrs. Fuller frolicking around a park with our baby. I feel like he/she can make us better, make us push ourselves to be the best we can be (not to be cliched). So I hope that we will get in shape, continue our ambitions and be happy and I can see it. I can see it. It is out there in the universe waiting for me.

And the last high note, a check-out person in ghetto a** Pompano Beach.....she asked if I was having a c-section and I said "I hope not." And she said "oh lawd...I had two babies and they had to cut them outta me, I couldn't push them out. They would've stretched my junk all big" - picture a woman in a McDonald's uniform holding her hands in a circle about the size of a watermelon. Mike and I just laughed at the insanity. Then, the next customer is a man and she asks him if he has kids and he does. So she asked if his wife delivered vaginally (at McDonald's!) and he said she did. And the checkout lady makes that face you make when you walk by a stinky dumpster and asks "that didn't make you loose your sexuality for her??" I just had to walk away, I had to take a step back.....your sexuality for her?? What is wrong with people. LOL.