Born Feet First

The eventuality of infertility is that sooner or later you will have a baby. A need-ling who consumes your daily doings and enjoys milking all of your thoughts. My first baby was my dog, then it was my blog. I totally didn't even mean for my first two children's names to rhyme--but I am in Utah, so it's completely socially acceptable.

Whenever I get an e-mail from a fellow fertility seeker with a hatching baby I am exhilarated for them. It feels good to escape the frustrations with a project that needs nursing. Such is Laura of Gypsy Feet--a blog that posts pictures of weary travelers (or California-bound tourists) from all over this earth. Yesterday, I was honored to accept her invitation to bounce her baby on my knee, or, in other words, post a picture of my piggies for her blog.

The above photo is of my feet when I felt less gypsy-ish and more bloated with pregnancy (as in, my third child). When I look at it I feel strangely desirous to get a needle and poke to relieve pressure. But the photo I sent to Laura is not of my pregnancy feet, although it does showcase my vast collection of pink footwear (as well as my legwarmers, toe cleavage and the ever-present kitchen carpet--bluhg).

Should you decide to celebrate Laura's new arrival you can do so here. I am sure you'll agree with me, this woman should definitely have more babies.