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The next body part to bloat was my arms. I noticed that they were filling up the arms of sweatshirts that used to be big. Even though you can tell the difference between water and fat (water feels a lot harder to the touch than fat, and water doesn’t mush around like cellulite), it wasn’t a pretty sight. I said good-bye to sleeveless tops.

And then came the ankles. Or there they went. You couldn’t even see my anklebones after a while. My ankles looked like giant sausage links with no definition at all.

In rapid succession, my feet were up next. I actually had rolls of skin hanging over my shoes because they swelled up so badly. Here’s a little tip if you get to this stage: Your best bet is a pair of flip-flop sandals. If it’s wintertime, stick to a pair of gym shoes that are one size bigger than your normal size. Either option will be comfortable and won’t draw as much attention to your foot bloat.

Last but not least, and the scariest one of all is . . . pregnant head! Ah, yes. Pregnant head. Your face and head completely take on a new shape. Though this last one didn’t happen to me, even your nose could expand. I once ran into an old friend who had pregnant face going, and I swear I had to really work hard to be sure it was her. Her nose was really broad and her face was a different shape. I remember thinking, “Either this is her ugly sister or she’s had horrible plastic surgery.”

If you are unfortunate enough to get pregnant head, I advise that you just put a paper bag over your head until you deliver or stay indoors where no one will have to see you. And I’m only half kidding! Whatever coping strategy you choose, there is cause for hope: You may feel as though you’re carrying around the Pacific Ocean, but take comfort in the knowledge that the more you resemble the Michelin Tire man the closer you are to bringing your baby into the world.

The McRib Sandwich

(Back Pain)

You might be lucky enough to escape back pain. God, I hope you are. For me, back pain was more painful than delivery. And it certainly lasted longer!

My back pain really got out of hand in the sixth month. I woke up in the middle of the night with what felt like pulsing, piercing knots in the middle of my back. I kept slapping my husband to get up and rub my back, but at three o’clock in the morning he was as good as my dog. Sack of potatoes. No help at all. I know that most back pain in pregnancy is called sciatica and the pain runs down your leg (from your sciatic nerve . . . hey, I have the books too!). Mine was different but pain is pain, so hear my cry.

After a week of misery I decided that our soft-top, body-conforming mattress was the problem, and I figured that buying a new one would solve it. So off I went! I waddled into a mattress store with my credit card in one hand and a big ol’ “Won’t you help me, please?” smile. Of course, the combination of a ready credit card, a belly as big as a house, and an attempt to flirt basically tattoos “sucker” on your head. Live and learn. I rolled on and off a few mattresses and found one that seemed right-on. The problem was that I knew my husband, and I knew this mattress had divorce written all over it. If I got this one, he would either leave me or sleep on the couch indefinitely. But I bought it anyway. I was desperate.

When my husband came home, he saw the new mattress and decided to test it out. He took a running start and flew through the air toward it. I tried to warn him, but he was already airborne. Too late. Ka-klink! He looked like he had hit a solid piece of concrete. He reminded me of the Roadrunner cartoon where the coyote rams into a stone wall. He just lay there, completely still, and it looked like he was now in as much pain over the mattress as I had been when buying it. I couldn’t help but giggle. And of course, things only got worse before they got better.

Once again, at 3 a.m., I woke up in horrific pain. I was howling like a dog in heat. I was crying