Fred Flintstone Feet, Exposed

This entry is not for the faint of heart or the queasy of stomach. But our legions of blog fans are curious to know what I mean by Fred Flintstone Feet. OK, fine, so ONE person wanted to see pictures and the rest of you will have to suffer as a result of their morbid curiosity. For those who don’t want to see this (and if it were me, I would have already stopped reading at this point) just skip this post. I’ll post an adorable kitty picture in the next entry to allow for some cleansing and healing.

First, the namesake of my particular pregnancy ailment:



This gives you a pretty good idea of what I look like from the knees down. I don’t have quite as much pep in my step as Fred here… but my feet also don’t double as the braking system for our car… so we do have distinct differences.

Just to give you an idea of what’s going on down there, here is a picture I took a month ago or so when I thought my feet were pretty swollen.



They look deformed, but almost demure to me now. Ah… I miss those days. But this gives you some perspective on how much they’ve succumbed to FFF syndrome.

Here is a picture I took just now as I type. Despite keeping my feet up for most of the day, you can see the swelling is pretty… swollen.



Another oddity to go along with the FFF is that my legs and feet have taken on a quality that can best be described as “tempurpedic”. You know those beds made with memory foam? That’s what I’m made of now. Here is what happens when you put your finger on my leg:



Eww. Now that’s just nasty.

In addition to looking freaky, I know my legs look pretty painful. They really don’t hurt, though. At worst, they are slightly uncomfortable.

And before you think I am just playing a tiny invisible violin, let me assure you that it isn’t all bad having FFF. My legs hold some entertainment value as they have a sort of freak show quality. So I just kick my feet up and enjoy the show.