As I told you in the previous post, my summer nights are being pretty cool.
I have even left the marital bed some nights to leave my husband and two-year-old daughter there (who inevitably spends every night in our bed) to escape to sleep on the couch, all for me and under the air of the fan.
The other pregnant women will understand me perfectly and agree with me that to pass this heatwave with tripon in the middle of August, more than an act of love is an odyssey and proof of courage.
We get tired twice or triple, and even more so if there is another child to take care of, we sweat like goats, our legs swell up that seem to weigh a ton each, our feet look like two soccer balls, our ankles disappear and you walk like a duck. Exaggerations aside, those are more or less the symptoms of a pregnant woman in the middle of August. Especially for those who pass the threshold of week 34 and enter the final stretch, both of pregnancy and our physical limitations.
I am sure that after this heat wave, many mothers like me who plan to have another baby at some time (quite far away as far as I am concerned), will try to calculate the due date better so that the last weeks do not touch them in summer .
Although this is "do what I say but not what I do." My first daughter was born in August two years ago, when it was not exactly cold as you can imagine and now I find myself in the same situation, dead of heat and about to give birth.
In conclusion, we always complain and in the end when we see the baby's face we forget the tremendous heat it was that summer, swollen legs, feet like balls, labor pains ...
Everything bad (rather, not so good) is forgotten. Or is not it?
