My BFF has been on me about writing The Top Ten Worst Things About Pregnancy since I wrote The Top Ten Best Things About Pregnancy. I told her I would write it soon but before I became too bitter. She believed I should wait until I’m bitter to make the whole post more humorous. The real problem is that I don’t think many women can come to an agreement on the worst part of pregnancy. Every pregnancy is different, and then those hormones come along and wipe our brains clean of the horrors that were visited upon us. So I’ll try to capture them all, and I hope there are people willing to add if I miss one.
Morning Sickness. I hate hate HATE the first trimester. I think I complained about it enough here, here, here, here, and here. Oh and here. To say I’m sick and tired through those first months is to miss the point of what I endure. I’m drag-your-ass-through-another-grueling-day-to-daydream-about-sleep-instead-of-sex-and-naps-are-like-orgasms tired. I’m please-Lord-don’t-make-me-loose-this-meal-hey-shouldn’t-that-be-digested-by-now-and-I-peed-all-my-pants-again sick. Every pregnancy it has become worse, and to top this last pregnancy off, I became sick, making morning sickness take longer, just to make sure I’ve given up that crazy dream of four to six kids I used to have. Goodbye, dreams. (It should be noted that not all women have morning sickness, and they are lucky; while some women are sick with it through their whole pregnancies, and they are saints, especially if they went on to have another child after experiencing that.)
Heartburn. It sucks. Your favorite foods turn on you, just when you’re getting good and hungry. You snack on TUMS just to get by. I had it bad with my second pregnancy. So bad, I wasn’t gaining weight, so my doctor had me take an antacid every day for the entire pregnancy. Unlike many women, spicy foods don’t cause me to have heartburn; oatmeal and water do. No wonder I’m always thirsty. I know I’m about to start a fire with a gulp.
Sore Breasts. I only had this with this last pregnancy, but I have heard many women talk about it. It’s honey-don’t-even-stare-at-my-huge-boobs-that-you’re-drooling-over-because-they-hurt-when-you-look. If this doesn’t show a sense of humor in designing humans, I don’t know what does. You get this huge rack, and before you can test them out or let your husband play with them, they hurt like a bi-itch. Fun times.
Sore Muscles. There are a variety of aches and pains women go through, and many women experience different ones. Many of my friends had horrible back pain, which sent them running for a massage. (Which is highly recommended.) My aches are the inner thigh and around my uterus. Not so massage friendly. I get to wear a stupid belt that some days helps, some days doesn’t. But swimming is highly recommended for all aches and pains.
The List of Don’ts. Nothing like having your favorite things taken from you. Like alcohol. Like caffeine. Like sushi. Like even sex in that last month. Thanks. Luckily your doctor will give you the ok to have a glass of wine every once in a while in the last trimester. Maybe your doctor will let you have a cup of coffee or a soda if you’re good. My doctor confided in me that the only reason to stay away from sushi is the fear of food poisoning, but I’ve never caught food poisoning from sushi, only chicken, shrimp, and fried fish. (Yeah, you’d think that a bath in hot oil would have killed those suckers.) But most doctors would agree, n o sex because no one wants you to accidently go into labor early.
Other people. Now let’s say you got the ok to drink ONE glass of champagne at your sister’s wedding, someone is going to give you the stink eye. Or you’re shopping, minding your own business when someone comes up to rub your belly like a good luck Buddha. Or (my favorite) someone (stranger, family, friend, friend’s cousin) will tell you about a) a horrible birth experience (like you needed that), b) how she didn’t gain a pound (someone’s fibbing, fibbing, fibbing), or c) some helpful advice about pregnancy, labor, birth, or child raising. Like you care. I never had the pleasure of stink eye, and I always look f-ing tough that no one would dare place a hand on my body, but I’ve heard enough about horrible labors, lies about pregnancy and babies, and child advice to feel a book or a blog post.
Your Body. Whether it’s desiring strange foods you never liked before, despising foods you usually love, or just feeling like your body has been high jacked, your body is not always your friend while you’re pregnant. I always feel like I’m going through puberty AGAIN. No one wants that. My body is doing strange things. I don’t feel pretty, much less sexy. I have to buy a whole new wardrobe because I’m growing too fast.
Being Big. I never had a problem being big. My dad, a big guy himself, and I always had fun with it, even taking belly pictures together. But I know my friends hated it. They couldn’t wait to get that baby out of them. (Not that they wanted early labors, just they were tired of being big.) Even though I didn’t mind it too much, I was annoyed by it. In the middle of the night, you have to wake up to roll because that belly is so big it needs a tractor pull. If your baby is big or you’re tiny, you’re going to feel hard pressed to get a good deep breath in your lungs. Sometimes you even out grow your maternity clothes. I recommend swimming because if you feel like a whale, you’ll be graceful as a whale in the water.
Stretch Marks. Some women are lucky enough not to get them, but the rest of us, not so much. We become desperate to get rid of them with all kinds of creams, ointments, and even breast milk, smeared onto out bodies. “Science” says there is nothing to be done about them, but who’s going to listen to “science” when it looks like a road map was imprinted on your belly? When I was pregnant with Tornado S, I had an adorable stretch mark shaped like a butterfly on the front of my belly. After Tornado S, it wasn’t so cute nor did it look like a butterfly.
Labor. I won’t lie to those of you who haven’t had the experience. Labor is scary, and it hurts. As one female comedian said “Smart women don’t forget about that kind of pain.” Smart women do. I personally start freaking out a little the month before hand, but the day of, I freak out because I’m not ready as in “The blinds aren’t up in the baby’s room “ or “I haven’t bought him a coming home outfit.” Basically stupid stuff. I also have quick births, so much so that my dad suggested I become a surrogate. Of course, I would have to forgo the first trimester.
So does anyone else have anything else to add?