Don't you wish your leg veins were hot like me?

Actually I wouldn’t wish these pregnancy induced bulging leg veins on my worst enemy. Maybe on that one girl in elementary school that would copy my pictures and give them to the teacher as her own works of art. Man that girl really bugged….

So if you got a second to spare I feel a vent being opened. Hey, why do we call it “venting” anyways? Is it because we don’t want to admit that we are really just complaining? Like who would want to say, “Mom, can I take a moment and complain to you?” We like to pretty it up and pretend by saying, “Mom, I really need to vent. Got a sec?” See? Sounds way better. Plus when you are asked to be the recipient of a venting session, this is usually exciting and could possibly contain some interesting details and the need for your clever advice and unique perspective to solve all of your venting friend's problems. On the other hand, no one likes a complainer. What cry babies. So just to be clear, I’m only venting here. Now moving on.

First of all, I love being pregnant. Honestly. Truly. It means that 2009 will only go down in my history books as a marvelous year because it’s the year Daisy joins our family. It means that everything is as it should be and life is going forward into a promising future. To me, it’s a miracle I don’t take lightly and I cherish the gift.

However, the side affects of these five months (and eventually nine) are questionable. First of all, varicose veins. Why me? I have to wear these awesome compression stockings to keep the veins in check and last week I had to practically arm wrestle an eighty year old woman at Walgreens for their last pair of “nude” in my size. I could have taken her, but she was packing a cane. The kind with three legs at the end all capped with tennis balls. That’s the company I’m in with my compression stockings. Maybe we’ll start a club. I’ll make that lady be the bouncer. Well, for sure I’ll just add getting my veins fixed to the growing list of reconstructive surgeries needed after pregnancy.

Secondly, new to this pregnancy, is heart burn. That’s a bummer. So many foods are on my black list now and the worst of it is that I don’t know what foods are going to be mean until after I’ve eaten them. I like the berry flavor of Tums the best.

Then there’s the insomnia, which has been my companion for all pregnancies. No biggie. And who’s not familiar with the Three C’s of Pregnancy? Congestion, Constipation and Curves. Got all those in no particular order. Although let’s be honest, girlfriends, a couple of these curves ain’t so bad. I’m rather proud, actually. Um, cheeky and proud.

I’m not even going to touch the topic of weight gain. I struggle with my weight enough when I don’t have an extra body growing inside me that I figure I’ll just take these nine months off. It’s the only way. Then when it’s just me again, I’ll kick my trash into gear and see if I can’t loose all this weight that I’ve found. I look forward to this part more than I probably should.

And before my end-of-the-day visit from Mr. Braxton Hicks, “Early Contractions R Us”; Daisy jumps into action and summersaults and bounces from side to side. I find Olen and he puts his hand so gently on my tummy that I have to press it down harder for him. He feels his growing daughter so happily moving about getting stronger for the day when she will be free and able to dance without strings attached. Then I realize, she’s waiting, just like me. So I smile, hike up my sexy compression stockings, pop another Tums and give my curvy tummy a pat and say, “Over half way there. We can do this.”