Swollen.

My feet, ankles and calves have started playing tricks on me. I think they all got together while I was sleeping and said, “Hey, let’s get REALLY big and tight and make Whitney absolutely miserable!”

They are absolutely gigantic and it is official. I am sportin' the cankles. Well, most of the time anyway.

What is a cankle, you may ask? See Exhibit.



Yes. This crazy thing called pregnancy is disorting and deforming my slim ankles as blood and water and who-knows-what-other kinds of fluid flow up and down my poor legs.

In the morning, my ankles look like they belong to me. In the afternoon, my ankles look like they belong in the Guiness Book of World Records.

Or a Ripley's Believe it or Not Museum.

After noon on any given day, if you looked at me from calves down, I swear you would think I was Gilbert Grapes mom. It’s absurd. Comical, really. But what is NOT so humorous is the pain shooting through my calves. I feel like with each step they are going to explode.

My hands aren’t swelling; it’s just my legs and feet. And it hurts! And I hate it! And I want to punch a syringe in my leg and drain out all this foreign fluid that makes me look like I have tree stumps attached to my waist.

Along with the swelling, is the ever lovely Charlie. Do you know who I am talking about? Ya know, Charlie with the horse?

Oh. My. Gracious!!

I wake up at least 4 times a week with the most intense charlie horse leg cramps in my calves ever known in human existence. It is crippling! I scream and cry and stand up to try to straighten my leg out as fast as possible.

I’m thinking of chopping these legs off and getting them sewn back on after Levi comes. What’cha think?