We drove to Key West in late July.
From Fort Lauderdale.
I was pregnant with twins.
I had preeclampsia.
And I was swollen to a level I didn’t know was possible.
Not glowing-pregnant.
Not cute-bump-on-the-beach pregnant.
High-risk.
Hot.
Uncomfortable.
Too-stubborn-to-admit-it pregnant.
And we went anyway.
The Drive Down
The drive from Fort Lauderdale to Key West is supposed to feel scenic.
And it is.
Unless you’re carrying twins in peak Florida summer, swollen from preeclampsia, shifting in your seat every few minutes trying to get comfortable.
By the time we arrived, I was already tired.
But I didn’t say that out loud.
Late July in Key West Is Not Subtle
We stayed at the Southernmost Inn, right near the Southernmost Point.
The location was perfect in theory — close to Duval, easy to walk to restaurants, central to everything.
But “walkable” hits differently when:
- Your ankles have disappeared
- Your shoes barely fit
- Your legs feel like sandbags
- And you’re managing preeclampsia in Florida humidity
The heat wasn’t just warm.
It was heavy.
The kind of humidity that feels like a weighted blanket.
And the walking?
Horrible.
I refused to give up.
I kept saying, “It’s fine. It’s not that far.”
Reader — it was far.
I sat constantly.
On benches.
On curbs.
Anywhere shaded.
Every 10–15 minutes, I needed a break.
“Fiona Feet”
The swelling was next level.
My ankles were gone.
My feet were unrecognizable.
My sandals left deep indents.
At one point, my husband lovingly started calling me “Fiona feet.”
Yes. Like Shrek.
Fat, swollen, cartoon-princess feet.
I pretended to be offended.
But honestly? It was accurate.
Twin pregnancy plus preeclampsia plus Florida humidity is not kind to ankles.
And there I was, marching through Old Town like I had something to prove.
The Golf Cart I Refused to Rent
Key West is known for golf carts.
They’re everywhere.
And they make life easier.
Did I rent one?
No.
Because I convinced myself:
“We can walk.”
“It’s not that far.”
“I’m fine.”
It wasn’t strength.
It was pride.
Looking back, renting a golf cart on day one would have changed everything.
Not because I couldn’t walk.
But because I didn’t need to prove that I could.
High-risk twin pregnancy is not the season to be stubborn.
It’s the season to conserve.
The Sargassum Disaster
And then there was the ocean.
In my head, Key West meant:
Clear water.
Relaxing shoreline.
Peaceful beach time.
What we got was sargassum.
If you’ve never experienced it, sargassum is seaweed that washes up in heavy blooms certain times of year.
And when it piles up?
It smells.
The entire island smelled like rotten eggs.
The beaches weren’t swimmable.
The shoreline wasn’t relaxing.
The water access we imagined wasn’t happening.
So after two days, we made a decision.
We left.
We thought we could outrun it.
Back to Fort Lauderdale.
Surely it wouldn’t be there too.
It was.
Same seaweed.
Same smell.
Same disappointment.
We didn’t get in the ocean once that trip.
Not in Key West.
Not in Fort Lauderdale.
Nowhere.
The Guilt
I also felt horrible that I had dragged my husband there.
This was supposed to be meaningful.
Maybe peaceful before twins arrived.
Instead, it was:
- Me swollen and uncomfortable
- Me stopping constantly
- Me refusing to rent the golf cart
- Me pretending I was fine
He never complained.
But I still felt it.
What That Trip Actually Taught Me
Travel doesn’t bend to your expectations.
It doesn’t adjust for:
- Twin pregnancy
- Preeclampsia
- Pride
- Or seaweed blooms
Sometimes you plan.
Sometimes you research.
And sometimes you land in peak sargassum season in late July while carrying two babies and trying to power through Florida humidity.
That was this trip.
Was It Worth It?
Yes.
Not because it was comfortable.
Not because it was glamorous.
Not because it went perfectly.
But because it marked a season.
Life was about to divide into before twins and after twins.
And that sticky, swollen, stubborn, seaweed-filled Key West trip sits right on that line.
Travel isn’t always pretty.
Sometimes it smells like rotten eggs.
Sometimes you leave early.
Sometimes you sit on every bench in Old Town.
And sometimes that’s still a story worth telling.
Why chase perfection? The best memories are made in the perfectly imperfect moments.
There’s a big world out there.
Go see it.
— Erin