I have a pair of red, worn leather ballet flats with a lovely, little knobby plum colored button at the top held together by adorable stitching. They are my “bad day”shoes. If I knew a day was going to be particularly awful, I’d don those shoes and trudge half- heartedly through the rain/snow/dirty puddles by curbs with the knowledge that at least my feet were prepared to rise to the occasion. Can I tell you that if pregnancy doesn’t teach you the truest meanings of humility and sacrifice, you’re made of different stuff than I.
Over the years from my freshman year in college to before I got pregnant, I have gained and lost about 20-25 pounds approximately three times, at least. However, no amount of waffles and ice cream ever prevented me from wearing those shoes. My appendages remained the same, tiny size no matter how my waistline expanded or contracted. Until now.
My feet have suddenly unearthed and proclaimed their Fred Flintstone ancestry. My toes are so swollen with fluid, I’m sure if ever I were shipwrecked I’d have no need to “grab the cushion that acts as a floatation device”.
I. Have. Cankles.
Cankles, for goodness sake.
My doctor was so gracious today in telling me that I might want to be a little more careful about what I ate without exactly telling me how much I weigh ( he finally learned), and I couldn’t even flash my red shoes at him in denial. I can’t get them on past my piggy toe.
Sigh. I know my shoes will be there after the swellings gone down, waiting for me. I know that when I hold my girl, and she’s pink and screaming and wonderful I will not care that I was unable to wear my favorite shoes for the last 2 months that I carried her. I know.
But after a day of arguing with teenagers, figuring out maternity leave paperwork, breaking up fights, eating a terrible salad for lunch (which obviously does nothing so I’m going to stop torturing myself), being weighed in like cattle and watching numbers climb into the “where no woman has gone before” territory, I really could have used a little red shoe boost instead of this little piggy crying all the way home.