What they don't tell you about being pregnant

Your boobs will grow to be the size of your head.  Not just big, but literally the size of your head.  Barely four months into my pregnancy and my cup already runneth over.  I am spilling out of my C cups and officially just became a D student however; I don’t see that lasting very long.  At some point, I’ll just start duct taping these puppies in place.  I imagine that while maybe more painful, it’s probably a helluva lot cheaper than buying new bras every month.  I was under the impression that there would be this wonderful grace period where my boobs would get bigger, but my tummy would stay nice and flat.  Well I f*cking skipped right over that phase.  I guess it probably depends on your body size and type prior to pregnancy and how you are carrying.  Nonetheless, color me disappointed.  I won’t even bother asking my husband what he thinks because anything after, “My boobs have gotten bigger, but…” is completely tuned out.  

Maternity pants are amazing.  Today, maternity clothes are much more fashionable than they were years ago.  I thought I was going to be one of those cute pregnant ladies that could wear their regular pre-pregnancy clothes until I was 5 months along, but Mother Nature had different plans for me.  I am carrying all the baby weight in just my boobs and stomach.  The fly of my jeans has not met itself in weeks.  After growing out of my loosest pants, I sucked it up and began my hunt for maternity clothes.  I bought two pairs of maternity pants; one pair of jeans and one pair of khakis.  They are so amazingly comfortable!  I may never go back to regular pants again.  I think I might just buy smaller maternity pants after I have the baby.  If I lose all the baby weight and my new pants are too big, I plan on keeping them as my Thanksgiving pants.  Bring on the desserts bitches!

You will pee your pants…often.  I thought pant peeing was reserved for my mother’s older sister.  Every time she laughed too hard she would pee her pants.  My mother actually bought her a sign for her birthday that read, “Sometimes I laugh so hard tears run down my legs.”  Not so funny when I’m the one walking around in soggy pants.  Twice in one week I coughed so hard I peed my pants.  Not some of my prouder moments.  Thank god I was home sick and not at work.  I laughed so hard I peed in my pants at my mother’s birthday party.  It was the end of the night anyway and I took my cue to go home.

You may experience food aversions.  I heard of many women having food cravings.  I had not heard of aversions to foods.  I can no longer bear the smell of some of my favorite leafy green vegetables.  I am now blending spinach into my morning smoothies.  I recently took a trip to my favorite bakery.  On the way out I passed a shelf containing what looked like small hand pies.  Some were labeled with a “B” and others labeled with an “S”.  I bought one of each believing they were blueberry and strawberry, respectively.  Imagine my surprise when I cracked “B” open in the car and also barfed all over from the overwhelming broccoli smell.  “B” is for broccoli. “S” is for spinach.  I could not smell the contents over all the delicious bakery smells and cookies I had in my basket. I’ve experienced an interesting craving/aversion mix…cravings for foods that make me sick.  I’ve been craving stuffed mushrooms.  I attempted to eat a few of them last week with my dinner.  A couple of bites in, my gag reflex could not take it anymore and I spit up onto my dinner plate.  Sexy, I know.  Try and control yourself fellas, I’m taken.

Morning sickness does not always involve projectile vomiting, nor is it an exclusively morning activity.  Morning sickness is an equal opportunity bitch!  She’ll strike when you least expect it and when it’s least convenient.  Unlike breakfast, which ceases to be served after 11:30 am in most restaurants, my morning sickness did not start until then on most days.  From late morning until bed time, was a constant feeling of extreme nausea complete with bouts of dry heaving.  There was rarely any actual vomit until I would brush my teeth before bed.  Let’s just say I went through a couple toothbrushes.  I often went to bed feeling sea sick and my wonderful husband parked a plastic bowl on my nightstand should I need it.  I experienced “morning sickness” for three full months.  I was lucky enough to have a few days of relief prior to catching the horrible chest cold which landed me at the walk-in medical center and in the company of the troll of a doctor that worked there. (See my earlier blog post.)

Not everyone becomes overly emotional.  Sure I cried when I was having a craving for mashed potatoes and gravy and my husband came home with the wrong kind of gravy.  I probably would have done that even if I was not pregnant, if I was aggravated and hungry enough.  In the past four months, I had one big cry at home about how I was “getting fat and ugly”.  If I had gained ten pounds solely around my mid-section at any other time in my life I probably would have cried then too.  I did have one cry at work in the last month when I was over tired and stressed out.  Besides those incidents, I have been my usual self.  At least that’s what I think.  My husband may say otherwise.

People are generally nicer to you.  Everyone has a few people in their life, even if not by choice, which are usually good for a snide comment here and there (some more frequently than others).  My experience has been that these people will keep their comments to themselves…at least to your face.  However, random people, including people you do not know well or maybe even strangers, will think it is okay to rub your belly.  In my line of work, it is drilled through my head not to have people in your personal space for safety reasons.  I don’t like to be touched…period.  But they will.  Your belly has just become a magic lamp and everyone wants some luck.  People will offer to help you carrying things, hold doors for you, and ask you how you’re feeling.  Even people, who would not have given a shit if you walked in to work or a store with an arrow through your head, will ask you how you are feeling and genuinely listen for your answer.  If you look dumpy as shit, they will be kind enough to lie to you and tell you that you look good.  My husband has become a little more tolerant of my unconscious nagging and has even volunteered to rub my hobbit feet on a few occasions.  It must be love!

Please feel free to comment and share your thoughts and pregnancy experiences with me.

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