I’ve always taken my feet for granted. Whenever I look down, they’re just there, planted at the bottom of my legs. Which has made determining whether my toenails needed cutting or my nail polish is chipping relatively easy.
Then yesterday I made a startling realization. My feet aren’t in my line of sight anymore. The only thing a casual glance downwards reveals is the vast expanse of my belly. And that’s just weird.
I had to bend forward just to make sure they were still there. And they are, including all ten toes. They’re just hidden from sight when I’m standing upright. It’s a strange feeling, to be suddenly footless.
I’ve also recently discovered that thanks to my growing uterus, my insides have been thoroughly rearranged. How do I know? Because when I bend a certain way, my lungs literally run into something hard and I can’t breathe. Kinda like when you aren’t watching where you’re going and you walk into a shelf.
And yes, I have accidentally run into shelving. More than once, as a matter of fact. Just call me Grace.
Next disturbing physical change I’m expecting? The popping of my belly button. It’s always been really deep, but it’s getting shallower all the time. I know because my husband gets a kick out of sticking his finger in there and measuring it every day.
What, is that too much information? Guess I’ll stop while I’m ahead, then.