Monday, July 12, 2010

My parents should have named me Grace

Because being eight months pregnant isn't enough of a challenge, I went ahead and broke my toe last night. (Well, maybe. The Pretend Husband thinks it might just be badly sprained, but it's painful nonetheless). It wasn't even doing something acrobatic or daring-- I pulled open a door without getting my foot fully out of the way and smashed the littlest toe.

Whether it's sprained or broken, it really hurts. I have worn nothing but flip-flops for the last three months, but even those are bothering it. They are kicked off under my desk right now.

The PH has been semi-sympathetic to my pain. He has made all the right noises ("I'm sorry you're in pain) and he also suggested I give the breathing technique I plan on using during childbirth a try ("If it doesn't work for a little toe, you should probably be looking for something else to use for labor!") He has a point.


cfoxes33 said...

that made me giggle.

Pollyanna said...

I'm not sure why my little toes don't just dangle and flop around on the sides of my feet as many times as I've done that.

I promise the breathing works out better when you get a baby in the end. With a broken toe all you get for all your pain and breathing exercises is an ugly toe and continued pain. With a baby, the reward is a sweet, cuddly bundle of joy.

Soda and Candy said...

Oh man, I feel your pain! I'm pretty sure my pinkie toes are just shards floating around in there at this point. and I don't even have the preggo can't-see-my-toes excuse.