Our cats are no longer interested in sitting in my lap -- perhaps because said lap is considerably smaller than it used to be.
I get offered seats on the subway pretty much all the time now. Yesterday a man bolted out of his chair and apologized profusely for not having offered it sooner. I guess I looked like I needed it!
My ankles are frequently so puffy that poking them with my fingers leaves them dented. I gave up wearing my precious wedding set months ago and invested in a ridiculously blingy thing as a surrogate. I've traded in my trademark stilettos and my hips no longer sway side to side when I walk. My flat-footed gait has developed what I refuse to call a "waddle", but is distinctly penguin-like in nature... and I should know. I've nearly grown out of maternity pants that I once held up in disbelief, wondering how I'd ever fill them out.
My belly has taken on a life of its own. It moves of its own accord, rippling and throbbing to its own rhythms. Sometimes it leans to one side. My belly button is indescribable; actually, it's not. It's just not really there anymore.
I've got eleven-ish weeks left of this pregnancy and I'm loving it. The things I describe above aren't making me miserable; the make me laugh and shake my head in disbelief. It's as though this is not happening to me. This is not my body. I am completely and thoroughly not in control of this ride, and I am enjoying every minute of it. These days, women don't get to be pregnant more than a few times throughout their lives. We're on a two-kid family plan, so I might just get to experience all of this one more time. The first time is the most magical, so I'm keeping that in mind and I'm savouring every wiggle and jiggle; I'm smiling at my aching back because I know it's for a good end.
Life is good.