Singing it Out

You know that tune, "Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat..."?
Can't get it out of my head. Only it goes a little like this: "The baby is coming, Mama's getting fat..."

It's true. Big hands, feet, and ankles. Not to mention the beachball pushing my pants down. However one imagines it or however the rest of the pregnancy goes, these last few weeks are, simply put, not graceful nor dignified. I try to stay hydrated, I move around, put feet up, but nothing really slows the downward spiral. I flop, I drop, I've become clumsy, my clothes shift around baring taut skin not meant to be exposed past bikini season.

Less than 2 weeks to go if we're going to trust that early ultrasound date.

There is one solution: spend as much time swimming as possible. Still the only activity I can do that makes me feel like my normal body and mind. Now to find the time...