The Waddle

Around this time last year my husband and I only had one car, so I would drop him off and pick him up from work. There was another family doing the same thing and I always noticed that the wife would get out of the car once she parked and go inside (to use the bathroom, I’m guessing). She was pregnant. Very pregnant. My husband and I would both comment that she had to be ready to “pop” any day. The thing was, we must’ve said that for weeks, if not a couple months. She had The Waddle down pat. I felt so bad for her, because she just looked so uncomfortable doing something as simple walking, but all my husband could say was that he couldn’t wait until I was pregnant so he could see me waddle.

This was at 31 weeks, but I really think the shadows were playing tricks. The belly wasn’t actually that big…I don’t think.

Well, he’ll get his chance to see The Waddle all right. Not only do I already feel ginormous, but The Waddle, which made its appearance for the first time a few weeks ago, mostly when I needed the bathroom (i.e. when the baby was jumping on my bladder), feels like it’s now here to stay. I think I may walk more normal during the day, but once the afternoon/evening rolls around, my gate definitely changes.

I’ve decided The Waddle is a combination of several things:

• I have a four-pound human the size of a cantaloupe (or pineapple, depending on what fruit category you want to go with) nestled in my nether regions. She’s been head down since around 20 weeks, and from the feel of it, she has a gigantic head. I always figured—in my naive non-pregnant blissfulness—that being pregnant meant the baby stayed in your belly area and then moved on down when you were in labor. Not so, folks. Not. So. At. All.
• When you’re pregnant your bladder gets squished…like really squished. So that, combined with the above cantaloupe resting on said bladder gives you this ridiculously intense need to pee all. the. time. That (literal) pressure to use the restroom all the freaking time makes me waddle.   
• I’m clearly not a twig. I have curves, meat on my bones, and child-bearing hips. Well, those lovely hips are all nice and loose now, thanks to hormones, and that means that they’re even more “bearing” than they were before. In other words, they’re spread out more. Combine that with the weight of the baby pressing down…there…and you’ll see how a duck-like “waddle” can easily happen.

But it doesn’t stop there….

• I’ve gained less than 20 pounds, but that additional weight, mostly all in the front of my body can seriously throw off my sense of balance and gravity. 
• Since the belly’s blooming in front, that means your back has to compensate, so now I feel as though my back is always arched, but is also desperately trying to remain straight. 
• Take all of the above and add in swollen feet (mine are still okay for the moment, thank goodness), decreased lung capacity (this lingering cough isn’t helping), and a “normal” walk may feel like you’re training for the speed-walking portion of the Olympics.

So, based on everything I just mentioned here’s my unscientific formula for The Waddle:

Baby girl doing a headstand on your you-know-what + added weight + backache+ slower walk+ weird balance issues + loose hips+  = The Waddle

Yeah…I’ve pretty much forgotten what it’s like to walk normally and I still have a little more than a month to go. I know my husband will get a giant kick out of it, too, since he mentions how excited he is to see The Waddle in action. Actually, I’m contemplating making a “Waddle Jar” for when he comes home. Every time he pokes fun at my waddling he’ll have to put $1 the Waddle Jar. Good idea? I think so.