Who knew the day would come where I would no longer be able to touch my toes, lace up shoes or I’d struggle to put on pants. The day has come my friends and I am struggling with everyday tasks due to this lovely belly. It’s quite comical how difficult putting socks on has become and Thank god for flats and flip-flops or I would be without shoes most of the time. Speaking of shoes…I will address this further in a few minutes. I always heard pregnant women talking about the difficulty associated with bending down in the third trimester, I even recall watching the odd prego bend over noticing just how awkward it looked and yet I never thought this would happen to me. Oh how the mighty have fallen! Recently I have become a proud member of the following clubs for prego’s; “I can’t bend over very well”, “yes I am a side bender”, “I can hardly put on my own socks”, “I waddle in heals” and “hun a little help with the right pant leg please”. This realization became vividly apparent in the last 24-48 hours…
On Sunday, I attended a beautiful baby shower for a friend who is due only a couple weeks before me. The soirée was held at the River Café and was absolutely fabulous! If there is an award for best shower of the year, my friend just won it hands down! Anyway, I felt like dressing up a touch as yoga clothing has been my staple for the last few months, so I pulled out the stiletto knee boots, leggings and tunic and began my get ready ritual. Even though I had some issue with the leggings the real concern came with the boots…I sat quietly for a moment eyeing them up while reminiscing how comfortable I had always thought they were. I visualized stepping in to them and made a plan of attack about the best way of getting them on without falling over. Turns out I was successful getting my feet in and I must say this in itself was quite the achievement but the hurdle of zipping them up had yet to come. I sat for another moment while my feet molded to the soft leather and then I awkwardly hunched forward in what I like to call the side bend and reached down for the kill. While holding my breath I grabbed the zipper and like a size 10 woman sucks in her belly while lying down on the bed to zip up her favourite skinny jeans (which are no bigger than a size 8), I too struggled while zipping the sexy black boot over my swollen foot, ankle and calf. To my amazement it closed and needless to say I was elated with excitement from this accomplishment. Left foot was in and I was ready to tackle the right…several minutes later operation stiletto boots was a success! After all this, I sat a moment longer to catch my breath. One more challenge stood in my way of getting to the party; walking! I slowly stood up with a wobble here and there and after a few baby steps I was feeling pretty stable. The outfit looked great and I was impressed with how well I pulled it all off. I knew this lust would soon pass and quickly turn in to an ocean of regret after sitting around with my legs dangling down, pooling violently with fluid. It was a risk I was willing to take, plus the thought of changing footwear at this point was the greater of two evils and more importantly I didn’t have the time. My taxi arrived and I was on my way to the restaurant.
The River Café is gorgeous but as many of you know there isn’t a drop off zone right outside the restaurant, instead you have to walk a fair distance across the river before arriving. So, while in transit I prepped myself mentally for the walk from Prince’s Island Sheraton, across the bridge to the restaurant and I even had a conversation with my baby that went a little like this “ok angel please don’t kick or do any acrobatics while I walk across this bridge or you and I are both going down”. I laughed to myself as I slowly waddled along, catching stares from passerby’s who clearly thought I was crazy for rocking the footwear I was while 8 months pregnant. Finally the entrance was in sight and I had made it! I felt like a marathon runner waiting to get my high fives and Gatorade at the finish line but sadly no one was that impressed so in the spirit of accomplishment I applauded my unborn son for being so good on the walk over.
The shower was excellent and the entire afternoon was full of love for the mother to be and her gorgeous bump! We laughed, played games and ate delicious bites over the next couple hours. I knew we would be wrapping up around 5 and I couldn’t help but clock watch around 4:35pm as my attention was averted to my throbbing lower extremities and how stupid I could have been for wearing these fabulous boots. I actually think I welled up with tears for a moment while thinking about the marathon walk back across the bridge to where George would be picking me up. It seemed a suicide mission! I rubbed my belly while trying not to think about the pain and had another self talk reassuring myself it would be fine. I even thought about faking an injury and asking one of the staff to hail me a golf cart that could chariot me back to the Sheraton. Or was there a secret driveway that only the staff knew about where cars could actually come to the front door and get me? I pondered my options…sadly I felt like I couldn’t stoop this low and after all it was my idiotic decision to wear these boots in the first place. The next 20 minutes went by and it was go time; George would be meeting me in 10 minutes. I said my goodbyes, well wishes and Thank you to the host before I began the trudge back across the bridge. In agony I slowly waddled, feeling as if my ankles may give out at any moment and I would come down like a 6 foot refrigerator box. I kept telling myself this was great practice for child birth as it was hell and I truly thought I wouldn’t make it but here I was slowly approaching the half way point. I could see our car parked in the near distance ready to pick me up and so I did what anyone girl with sore feet does, I chanted calmly “baby steps Talia, you can do this”. Every step seemed to worsen and I could only imagine what it would look like once I removed the boots from my feet; it was going to be a disaster! I hopped in the car let out a massive sigh and silently thanked god for the seat which supported me, I may have went as far as thanking god for the man or lady who installed the seat in our Infinity; it was heavenly. We got to our condo and I still had a couple stairs, an elevator ride and about 10 steps to the front door to go, needless to say I hardly made it. I unzipped the boots and slowly pulled my feet out, they were frozen in a permanent arch, the seams from my socks and leggings had left dents in my ankles and I am quite sure I could see bruising form in blue and black around my calf. I spent the remainder of the evening with my feet above my heart to drain the fluid mess in my lower legs and feet…luckily it subsided by 8 am Monday morning.
I have made a new vow that comfort takes the cake over style. Because I have about 8 weeks to go before baby boy makes his debut below are some of the more comfy styles I plan on wearing! Thoughts?
