Oh, this is a good post....

I'm gonna give you a little hint about being pregnant. If you even remotely imagined that you possessed what are sometimes referred to as "cankles" before being pregnant, you might as well accept that pregnancy will turn your lower leg area into downright tree TRUNKS. No.... no man will be admiring my "stems" anytime soon. Unless he happens to be a botanist whose passion involves redwood trees.

Add to that the development of spider and varicose veins on your lower extremities, and you'll be hard pressed to believe that you have any legs at all anymore. It would be easier to believe if someone told you that your legs had disappeared and suddenly you sprouted a couple of tumors from your hips.

The funniest part about it — for me, personally — is that this phenomenon only seems to be the case from the waist down. My arms, back, shoulders, face, etc. completely look the same and normal. (With the exception of the Wonderous Expanding Bustline.) Sometimes I look in the mirror and imagine that I resemble a Barbie doll's upper body that has been ripped off of its rightful legs and shoved into the lower half of a Ken doll.

Just for fun, I tried putting on a pre-pregnancy skirt today. I thought there was an outside chance it still might fit (worn low around my hips), because it is one of those long, loose, flowy numbers that you can "slouch around" in. I'm dismayed to report that I couldn't pull it up farther than about 3 inches above my knees.

My wonderful husband picks me up every day from work. Most days, he glides up next to the curb and flashes me his million-dollar smile (which still makes me go weak in the knees). This is somewhat troublesome, however, because I have become consumed with the worry of attempting to enter the car. Usually, I try to gracefully and casually open the door, slide into the car, and ease down into the seat. Ultimately, the results are an inadvertent puffing of the face, expulsion of breath, and a shameful tipping of the car to one side. He still manages to smile at me the whole time, despite the fact that I know he must be worried about the car's shocks.

I used to wear a size 4. I'm resigned to the fact that those days are most likely long-gone.

But... (there's always a "but")...

I'm so thrilled about what my body is doing right now. It is an amazing, humbling, fulfilling, crazy experience. I'm astonished that pregnancy is such a common, un-noteworthy occurrence in the most practical of terms. I can't believe that every day, thousands of women are doing this normal, crucial, biological function — because experiencing it is so transcendent. Okay, I realize that sounds a little kooky; I admit it probably is. But, how can such a basic function of our bodies also be one of the most exquisitely momentous at the same time?

I suppose that is the way God wanted it to be. It has to be humbling, for human beings are merely vessels; yet at the same time, it must feel so important to us that we appreciate its essential nature.

I suppose that is enough philosophy for one blog entry. *smile* Until next time.

Namaste.