Susan S.- "Hey Bigfoot"
I was having a normal, healthy pregnancy. I couldn’t complain. My morning sickness was gone. I was happy to dress my new belly in maternity clothes. I was very excited to shop for the baby and all his wonderful little things. But towards my sixth month of pregnancy, something other than my chest began to swell.
My legs and feet began to increase in size and the skin pulled so tight that they would itch and ache. My doctor didn’t label it any serious condition. I wasn’t put on bed rest. He checked the swelling at my appointments. But even at the end, when I begged him, he would not induce me for swollen feet.
It started at my knees. My calves, no longer defined. Ankles, what ankles? And my feet, my poor feet. I normally wear about a size 7 and by my seventh month, the only shoes I could wear, work or otherwise, were size 9 ½ FLIP FLOPS. Even then, once home from work, there would be a “V” indentation on the tops of my feet for at least an hour. I did everything that my doctor would suggest. I elevated my feet at work. I soaked them at night. I even made visits to my neighbor’s house to soak in their hot tub in the attempt to gain some comfort. Still the tops of my feet puffed up so high that you couldn’t see my veins and my toes looked like plump little hot dogs.
My husband couldn’t even get his hand around my ankle. And he was making sacrifices. One evening we decided to take a walk. After disappearing in our bedroom closet for several minutes, he came to the living room to ask me if I had seen his running shoes. When he looked down, I was wearing them. “Can you wear another pair?” I asked him. “This is all that fits me besides my flip flops.” It was about a week after that when he came to me, his hands full with white socks. “Can you stop wearing my gym socks?! You are stretching them out!” It was sad, very sad.
My family is from the Midwest and my Mother, Aunt, and two cousins (that are more like sisters) all came into town for my baby shower. However, two days before the shower all I could do was sit on my bed and cry because I didn’t have any shoes to wear.
We value and respect the experiences of all of our HERWriters, but everyone is different. Many of our writers are speaking from personal experience, and what's worked for them may not work for you. Their articles are not a substitute for medical advice although we hope you can gain knowledge from their insight.
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