I now have a new-found compassion for people with big bellies. As mine grows, I’m discovering that simple tasks I used to do without noticing them have become onerous. Wearing socks and tying shoe-laces are endeavors that have been sacrificed. Getting out of the beach recliner is an adventure. Painting toe-nails produces results that are reminiscent of Pollock’s paintings. Dropping things (which is something I do about once an hour) has become a very problematic habit.
And I’m only in the 6th month.


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