As soon as everyone hears of your marvellous news, those who have experienced pregnancy before start spouting anecdotes and advice like steaming kettles on stimulants.
stimulants.
Joyful recollections of Milkybar cravings and stern cautions that you can no longer eat raw eggs (who would anyway?! Bleurgh!) are all too common. As are tales of the dreaded morning sickness and fond memories of kicks that feel like butterfly tumbles.
This is all well and good but somehow, for some reason, some important truths have become the unspoken. I completely understand. I mean, who would want to tarnish such a special time by revisiting all of the awkward difficulties?
I can, however, indeed confirm that pregnancy, although wonderful in many ways, is also tough to the point of that infamous 'riding a bike that is on fire' meme. But in this instance you are riding that bike as a weary swollen bullfrog with wee dripping down your legs and tears streaming down your face.
Fortunately, I am not yet too worn out or skewed by rose-tinted spectacles to observe the truth, and the truth I shall now speak...
Your legs and lady-bits may become tangled patches of beaver fur.
Your bump does indeed grow so vast that it completely obscures your view of your nether regions. I cannot remember the last time I saw my 'mons pubis' (latin for 'pubic mound' apparently - how fetching). I miss you pubic mound! To be fair, you can still see your legs if you sit appropriately in the bath, however there comes a point where you just really cannot be arsed. This, of course, becomes void when you suspect that labour is imminent and the surge of panic kicks in as you simply must become a smooth goddess for the midwives. Until that point though you may take on the identity of a walking rug. But that is okay!
You will cry. A lot. Over the most significant (i.e. completely insignificant) things.
- Socks
- My partner's hands
- Kimber's (dog) 'Mr Piggy' toy
- French Fancies
- My hair
- Chicken thighs
The above is a list of some things I have cried over during this pregnancy. The list is actually a lot longer but it would take hours to type up. Plus I don't want to make myself cry by writing it. I have been given false hope many times that my emotionally unstable self was subsiding - particularly when a certain zoo programme ended as that always used to set me off. However, I would then find myself sobbing over a poor, lonely pen lid that had fallen to the bottom of my bag days later.
I have weeped and snivelled in many public places, including but not limited to: parks, supermarkets and restaurants. I like to think that people understand though. One look at the bump and they give a warm smile. They tend to assume that Dr Josh is the culprit of my sorrow and give him daggers, which is highly amusing! Yes, everyone is different, but even if you are usually as hard as nails I would recommend carrying a tissue or six at all times. Just in case.
Despite your best efforts, some wee may escape.
It finally happened to me a couple of weeks ago: I sneezed and some wee came out. Touch wood I have managed to remain damp-free since. I am, however, on standby and well-stocked with Tena ladies. My mishap only involved a small trickle yet one of my friends weed so much once that she was convinced that her waters had broken, only to be sent home from the hospital, head drooping with shame. There is, however, no shame in escaping wee. Again, everyone is different and you may be fortunate enough to avoid such misfortunes altogether - ever the optimist!
Pooing is also a problem. Your poo will be either too soft or too hard. Plus, you won't be able to hold your farts in.
Bowel habits in pregnancy....well, that's just it. There is no habit. One day you may find yourself transforming into a waddling Forrest Gump to reach the toilet in time, the next you could end up feeling as though you've just given birth but to a mere pebble of a poo, no baby. Farts tend to escape at the most inappropriate times, like when your partner's parents visit. Plus the smells are bearable at best.
You will become paranoid about how you smell downstairs. In your mind you will smell funky at all times.
I am not sure whether it is actually a 'thing' to smell differently down there. However, you will become convinced that you smell 'off'. Dribbles of wee and abundant discharge don't help the matter. Your partner going near there is out of the question. You will take three baths a day...at least. You dread the day when it will become necessary for the midwife to take a peek downstairs. Whether psychologically or not, you will smell unfamiliar down there. It must also be noted that some smells can indicate an infection or issue, which must of course be checked out!
You will be asked to provide endless wee samples. Yet these are impossible to collect.
It absolutely baffles me that once your bump presents on the gargantuan scale you are still expected to be able to wee neatly into a pot the size of a Polly Pocket's teacup. How?! What sorcery is expected of us?! If you cannot see your wee stream, you cannot possibly position the plastic pot correctly. I recommend a funnel.
Baby kicks are not always welcome.
People tend to refer to the baby kicking as being all fluffy and gushy. It is not always. The baby will kick when you are attempting to get to sleep for the fifth time, during especially sensational sex, when you are pooing, eating, meditating.... Baby kicks are not always appropriately timed. Baby kicks can hurt. The baby can kick your bladder, hard. And your ribs.
People will fuss. You will not enjoy this.
Only the other day nosey Sue heckled me in the petrol station. 'Oooh when's it due?! Boy or girl? Any cravings?...' Shut up Sue. I am in a rush to eat my chocolate buns. People are now staring.
Strangers seem to take great delight in harassing you once your bump is visible. It is as though you are famous! Sadly though, you are not and there are no benefits to the attention. For example, there will be no opportunity to release a baby perfume range and make millions or similar.
People will not fuss. You will not enjoy this.
People refusing to move out of their precious seats, people beeping impatiently as you slink across the road at a snail's pace, the raised eyebrows when you order a large hot chocolate with all the trimmings plus a brownie plus a flapjack plus some toast...You will feel like yelling 'I am pregnant!' as loud as you can, through a megaphone. I guess this is why you can buy those tops that state '#preggers' and the likes. Do they have one that says 'give me special treatment please I am pregnant'? They should.
I could go on, and on, and on...for example, about the morning sickness that lasts all day (morning?! Pfft!) and how you may find that your nose has become Niagara Falls. I don't, however, wish to put anyone off pregnancy (if I haven't already, that is - please have mercy!)
In all honesty, pregnancy is the most fantabulous journey that I have ever embarked upon. I would not change it. I would, in fact, highly recommend it. Just make sure you dive in anticipating at least some of the above! It is not all sweeties and rainbows.