ex(PR)essed

This is the glamorous side of pregnancy. I mean really…everyone focuses on the swelling belly and the maternal glow and decorating the nursery while the cankle goes totally unappreciated.

I must admit, on December 28 when I realized I was pregnant, the cankle wasn’t on my mind either. Instead, I was distracted by an odd cocktail of feelings that included fear, joy, apprehension, concern, anticipation, and so forth.

It was late May when I first lamented to my co-worker Kim that my left ankle had disappeared. And, since that time, it has only returned for quick, guest appearances in the early morning hours or at the end of an unusually restful weekend.

Being the realist that I am, I couldn’t not document this signficant aspect of my pregnancy. For months now, my left foot has been swelling to various degrees, and last night was a doozie. Hence the picture, which will certainly find it’s way into the pregnancy scrapbook. Interestingly enough, my right foot swells as well, but never to the same degree as the left.

I suppose you shouldn’t blog about things that you don’t want to draw attention to (and really, I’m not inviting your comments about my feet, my stomach, or my “waddle”), but I couldn’t help myself from photographing the cankle at its finest last night. Jeff and I were playing Yahtzee and eating ice cream, and I could feel my foot swelling while I sat at the table. Nearly every evening, my left foot tightens to the point where it almost feels like it’s falling asleep. One of the first times this happened, Jeff and I both freaked a bit. It had swollen so quickly and significantly that we put ice on it! Jeff is an athlete after all, and that’s what you do for injuries that bring swelling.

Well, the ice is useless, according to my doctor, so now I just watch in amazement every night as my ankle disappears and the top of my foot balloons up and up and up. (The doctor assures me this is purely an unfortunate cosmetic side effect of pregnancy and in no way treatable or of concern.) I always bring this phenomenon to Jeff’s attention, inviting him to feel the squishiness of my foot. He politely declines and always throws a sympathy nod my way for having to be in a condition that robs me of my ankles.

For the most part, ankles go unappreciated in our society. I, for one, certainly never paid much attention to mine prior to that fateful May day when the first one started to disappear. Now, second only to meeting Baby Lorow in person, I am most excited to get acquainted with my post-pregnancy body. I know it will look different and I might not feel like a million bucks, but I do look forward to having ankles (and a waist and non-sausage-like-fingers and a defined collarbone…) again. It’s such a little thing, I know, but don’t rob of me this anticipated joy.