I have to say first off, I do love being pregnant. I’ve been SO lucky to have so far avoided “driving the porcelin bus” (as my family calls it) every morning, and have hopefully spared my husband my devil-like mood swings on most days. Yet, I am not so naïve to neglect to realize I’m only 11.5 weeks in and things have the potential and near-guarantee of getting increasingly miserable each week.
To "help" me on my journey, there are a billion pregnancy books out there. I’ve been sucked into the phenomena enough to buy one of them, thankfully I got it for $5 at the 2nd hand store. The book takes a humorous approach to the alien-like transition your body and mind will go through in the 10 months of pregnancy – yes, it actually is 10. I’m not sure if is successful at being humorous (maybe for certain topics) but it is successful at depressing me to the point of wanting a drink… and scaring the buhjesus out of me while they were at it. Obviously I shouldn’t have read ahead in the book to find out how it ends.
But my only initial complaint for the moment is what one of the pregnancy books affectionately referred to as my “pot belly”. Yes – that’s right. This whole scam of pregnant women being beautiful, glowing and voluptuous is not only a crock to those who are or have to live with a pregnant woman – but even the books themselves call B.S. on such a thing! Literally, at the stage I am at in my pregnancy, apparently it is common for women to have a pot belly. Gee - what an affectionate way to refer to the miracle growing inside of me. Despite the fact that every day about 2pm I try to sneak into the bathroom and take a nap on the toilet, and that my hormones have me raging and laughing within a matter of minutes, let’s go ahead and insult the newly-pregnant women and her body while we are at it!
Long story short, every day I get to wake up and drag this pot belly to the closet to find out what clothes I can squeeze into without looking like an overfed 2-year-old toddler. I have to say, this in-between stage between the suspicious whispers of “she has had a few too many doughnuts” or “is she pregnant” tend to do some damage to your self-esteem on top of everything else you are learning how to deal with.
Now with that said, in the end it is totally worth it. The few glimpses I’ve been blessed to have of this baby via ultrasound have brought tears to my eyes and a smile to my soul. I am anxious to move past the pot belly, and begin to see and feel the baby growing. I realize I’ll likely eat the words above 6 months from now, but right now I am looking forward to an awesome future of getting to know “baby K”.
To "help" me on my journey, there are a billion pregnancy books out there. I’ve been sucked into the phenomena enough to buy one of them, thankfully I got it for $5 at the 2nd hand store. The book takes a humorous approach to the alien-like transition your body and mind will go through in the 10 months of pregnancy – yes, it actually is 10. I’m not sure if is successful at being humorous (maybe for certain topics) but it is successful at depressing me to the point of wanting a drink… and scaring the buhjesus out of me while they were at it. Obviously I shouldn’t have read ahead in the book to find out how it ends.
But my only initial complaint for the moment is what one of the pregnancy books affectionately referred to as my “pot belly”. Yes – that’s right. This whole scam of pregnant women being beautiful, glowing and voluptuous is not only a crock to those who are or have to live with a pregnant woman – but even the books themselves call B.S. on such a thing! Literally, at the stage I am at in my pregnancy, apparently it is common for women to have a pot belly. Gee - what an affectionate way to refer to the miracle growing inside of me. Despite the fact that every day about 2pm I try to sneak into the bathroom and take a nap on the toilet, and that my hormones have me raging and laughing within a matter of minutes, let’s go ahead and insult the newly-pregnant women and her body while we are at it!
Long story short, every day I get to wake up and drag this pot belly to the closet to find out what clothes I can squeeze into without looking like an overfed 2-year-old toddler. I have to say, this in-between stage between the suspicious whispers of “she has had a few too many doughnuts” or “is she pregnant” tend to do some damage to your self-esteem on top of everything else you are learning how to deal with.
Now with that said, in the end it is totally worth it. The few glimpses I’ve been blessed to have of this baby via ultrasound have brought tears to my eyes and a smile to my soul. I am anxious to move past the pot belly, and begin to see and feel the baby growing. I realize I’ll likely eat the words above 6 months from now, but right now I am looking forward to an awesome future of getting to know “baby K”.
