There seem to be quite a lot of things no one tells you about being pregnant. The first is, well, it sucks. You have this great, romantic image in your head of how you’ll float through, glowing and thrilled, and your belly will be so cute and round. You will spend you days staring into a sunlit field while rubbing your tummy contemplating the joy of holding your perfect little slumbering infant who just makes you feel so complete. NOT SO.
Sure, you hear about morning sickness, but you don’t hear so much about all day sickness. No one told me about the super human sense of smell that you get during the first three months that enables you to smell the dishsoap in the kitchen when you are on another floor of the house. This same sense of smell that makes it impossible for you to get anywhere near the awesomeness that has always come out of your dogs, now you need help for the simple act of cleaning up poop. “They” also don’t tell you that all those wonderful hormones that enable your body to create another human are the very same ones that will make burp and fart not only with alarming frequency but also at deafening volumes. They don’t tell you that you won’t have anything resembling a normal digestive system, and if you have the luxury of actually getting to poop, you will be excited.
They forget to mention that when you do actually feel like eating again, there won’t be room in your stomach to actually hold a meal, you will be forced to pick at snacks all day long and never really feel like you ate.
For those of you who care, and follow this blog because you know me, I am now six months pregnant, and it’s a girl. We’re excited, thrilled, and stocking up on pink onesies, but let me tell you, this will be an only child.
I had imagined by now that I’d have a gently rounded tummy, you know, like you see in pictures. HA! Oh no. Instead I have enormous boobs - did you know that E is actually a boob size? - and my belly still looks like I drink too much beer. Some days you can actually look and tell that there is a baby in there, some days, I just look like I need to lay off the cookies already. And my ass. I’m convinced that that is where my baby is living. The days she’s not out front? She’s stretching out and doing yoga in the spare bedroom in the back, cause there’s room for her and a couple of friends back there.
Overall, I am not entertained. My legs swell up on a regular basis, the first time that happened I thought I was going to die. I’ve never had heartburn or been constipated until these last few joyous months. I’m more tired than I have words for, and while I am right on target for appropriate weight gain, I feel like a fat, slow moving slug. Seriously, if you could videotape my misery at this point, you could show it in high school sex ed and the teen pregnancy rate would fall through the floor. “They” tell you about how *sex* yikes, can make you *pregnant* gasp - with a baby. That is not scary. Having been a high school girl myself, you think, “oh well, a baby, no big deal. Being pregnant is cute, right?” Ha ha, let me talk to them about not pooping for four days and being unable to stop farting in public - that’ll make them think twice about climbing into the back seat with some sweaty high school boy. If only I had known…
Posted on June 12th, 2008 by michelle
Filed under: Pregnancy, Random run ins, The Naked Part
Dearest Michelle,
You probably won’t appreciate this right now but, I have to do it.
I’m sorry that you are miserable. I’m sorry that your legs are swelling and that you were pukey and that you can’t poop. I’m sorry that no one
told you how aweful this whole process would be.
It really doesn’t matter how many books you read or how many people you talk to about pregnancy, they are not you and they are not going through what you are going through. When you precious bundle of “look what our love made” is here, regardless of how many classes you take, you may feel at a loss sometimes. It happens.
So do farts. They happen. Ill wind will bloweth when it darn well feel like it. You just wait until your in public and your bundle of “I’m so sweet ” takes a dump in your arms. Oh, and it’s diarriah and your at Dsneyland without a change of clothes.
The doctors will say “drink lots of water and eat plenty of ruffage” And you might say something like “Look, my intestines are all bunched up in a totally not natural way for my body, on top of that my Boobs hurt and all you have to say is ‘drink lots of water?’ SHUT UP!” I think I would just lay on the table and say “I’m not leaving until you untangle my intestines. Fix me NOW!”
So yes, these things happen, but like everything else in life you get through it and move on..
The cool thing about the whole burping and farting thing is that even now, twenty years after having my one child , I can amaze my friends and family with thunderous symphonies of somatic effervescence. I owe it all to having been pregnant.
Kayleen