24 weeks, and these hips don’t lie

Well folks, here I am at 24 weeks. Entering my 6th month of pregnancy. Before I begin, Rachel has asked that I put a disclaimer on the photos.

Disclaimer: Indeed, for this holiday week we had visions of finding a cute little chocolate shop with hearts and cupids painted on its windows— with me and the belly strolling past. Or me in the middle of a flower shop, sniffing red roses.  But, besides the fact that those types of shops are limited, so became her time.   She and her little family decided it was time to move, and life became super crazy (add in the fact that she sprained her ankle while carrying a load of boxes down some stairs, yet still had to chase after Slade the rest of the week and we can call her life just plain nuts). So, here I am with a candy heart, a belly and a blank wall in her lovely new house.

In the past two weeks, I have become acquainted with the subtlety of heartburn. And luckily, I can still call it a subtlety. It’s like a soft nudge reminding me to eat less more often. It calmly says, “Oh hi Lisa.  I didn't see you there.  Are you sure you want to eat that whole chicken wrap?” ...“Maybe eat the PB&J now, but save the yogurt for later.”...“Sorry, I know you’re going to bed soon, so just remember you have Tums in the cupboard.  OK, you're right. You might as well put then out on your nightstand.”  It’s playing nice at the moment.

Also in the past two weeks, I have noticed a slight ache in my hips. Mostly when I lie in bed at night--it just feels like I need to get up and give them a good stretch. Sometimes I actually do get up and stretch, but other times I just lie there and pray to God that I came down to this earth with a retractable pair. Only time will tell. But one thing I do know is don’t go complaining to your mom about it and expect to get any sort of sympathy. You’re likely to get an “oh please” expression out of her face. And while I’m dishing out the advice, you can expect much the same reaction when you tell her how bummed you are to see a spider vein popping up on your calf. She’ll say something like, “That’s just the price you pay to bring a child into this world. I got one with you.” and then she’ll just keep pushing her cart down the aisle at Costco. End. Of. Story. Instead, tell your woes to your sister, your friends, who will instantly tell you to go out and buy compression socks and elevate those feet so that you aren’t damned to a lifetime of a creepy crawler chillin’ on the back of your leg. The lesson here:  Think twice about who you complain to. I’m just sayin’.

Disclaimer: Mom, secretly your comments made me feel better! Because, here I have gone my whole life without noticing anything spidery on your legs! So, perhaps I have hope that my new friend will either a) go away or b) stay the small little bruise that it is. I hope, I hope, I hope.