I’m a fish. Maybe right now I’m more of a dolphin thats gonna turn into a whale.
I love swimming. I love being in water. It seems to comfort me. If I am sad all I need to do is take a shower. That always seems to brighten my mood. Hearing the various sounds of water cheers me up. Well, not the toilet flushing, but just about every other water sound. On top of that I am a pisces, a water sign. It makes total sense that I love being emerged in it, surrounded by it or even just near it.
As the summer approaches I keep thinking about a swimming pool. As the summer approaches and I am pregnant I keep thinking about needing a swimming pool. Word in the world is swimming is healthy for pregnant women. Also helpful in the weightlessness of our ever growing bodies. That’s the word, I trust that word.
When I was a kid my mom and dad had my sister and I take swimming lessons. I was terrified. I loved being in the pool, but I was so afraid. I failed the class while my little sister passed. She got a snorkel and fins and lots of praise from the crabby instructor. A few years later my best friend Debra had a swimming pool built in her back yard and I just knew how to swim. I guess I learned from that crabby lady, she must have taken the joy of water away from me and replaced it with fear. Once the joy was back, I was a swimmer. I even competed in England in the breast stroke. That was until I got my period and the new crabby swim coach told me to wear a tampon. What was a tampon? That was not an option from my mom. So I quit the swim team. FYI tampons are great and I wish I had known better back then.
I don’t need tampons right now. I need to find a pool. But not just any pool.
I mean, who wants a soon to be waddling 5’3 1/2″ pregnant woman in a bathing suit strolling about the poolside? Floating, swimming, and laying by a public pool. Or dare I say… a pool in an apartment complex! It was hard enough wearing a bathing suit when I wasn’t pregnant in front of anyone. But now… Oh gosh! You know you’d look. You know you’d judge. You’d be all “Her belly is so stretched.” Or “Her boobs really did grow!” Maybe even “Those thighs…” Or worse “Will she ever look normal again?”
You can say “no I wouldn’t.” We both know you would. And honestly that’s okay, because I am thinking the same thing. Will I ever look normal again? Wow my boobs! I can feel those thighs and I see that big ol’ preggy belly stretching.
With all of this said, I still need to find a pool. I love swimming. I love it so much that I would be willing to pretend that all the worries I have don’t exist, just for a dip in a pool. For a few laps. The cool sensation of water swishing by my skin as I breast stroke my way from one side to another. The warmth of the sun on my body, drying me off just before I dive back in for another refreshing underwater adventure. Maybe even an underwater handstand!
Oh sweet chlorine water! How I love thee!
So friends, if you hear of a pool, preferably private, invite me over for some much needed and loved swimming time. If the pool is public, promise me that you will say all those horrible things out loud so we can laugh hard and I can let go of the “it’s worse in my mind” scenario.
To wrap up I’ll share that I started this post very calm and dreamy. I am ending with a baby boy inside me kicking, rolling and well… swimming. I can feel you little fella. I like what I feel. As Dori would say “just keep swimming, just keep swimming.”