Tuesday, 24 March 2015


Yeah... pregnancy.

It sucks.

I know that I've already had a similar rant when I was close to popping with Evie, so I won't recover old ground (piles and the like).  But I still feel morally obligated to remove the idea that pregnancy is in ANY WAY:
1.  Joyful
2.  Beautiful
3.  Comfortable

OK, I'm not going to say that I don't feel excited at the start, and with my hard-won IVF pregnancies I was over the moon when I found out.  But that's still 38 weeks before you get to meet the baby.

38 LONG weeks.

I'd say I'm exceptionally sensitive to hormones and have never really managed a relaxed pregnancy.  In fact, most of my pregnancies have been spent in a state of near terror and unspecific dread...  Which is nice.

Even without my particular "quirks", pregnancy can be a bit of a b*tch.  You cease to be a person and become an incubator.  Your body lets you down in more ways than you can imagine (more on that later).  There's nothing joyful about becoming all-too-familiar with the toilet bowl through vomiting, or realising that you can't eat ANYTHING you fancy (part sickness, part necessity).  There's nothing joyful about lugging a cannon ball around up your jumper.


When you're pregnant, people feel it's OK to comment on your body - how much weight you've gained, whether you're looking "big."  There is no right comment on size - if you tell a woman she's "neat" she'll worry that baby isn't growing.  If you say she's huge, she might well sit on you.

There's nothing beautiful about not being able to control your flatulence (especially at quiet times (this one is a new one to me this time round)), about constipation, piles, stretch marks, or the balloon of stomach you're left with.  There's nothing nice about surfboard size sanitary towels, stitches or saggy skin.  Don't believe the books.  STEP AWAY FROM THE BOOKS.


Really?  With a person wriggling in your belly?  Or (when baby is sleeping) when you're paranoid and poking your belly to make said little person wriggle.

Comfortable going to the loo every five minutes?

Comfortable with shooting pelvic pain smacking you right in the you-know-where out of the blue a few times a day?

You like blood tests do you?

Like feeling faint when the sonographer tries really hard to see part of the baby?


Can you tell I'm heading towards my due date.

I will say in my defence, that children are both beautiful and joyful.  And, luckily, are totally unaware of how ghastly mummy looks as she staggers after them in the supermarket.

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