I was going through some of my old writing the other day and I found this short list of “Ironies of Pregnancy” that I constantly added to throughout my pregnancy. Re-reading it made me laugh… then I remembered that at some point in time we will try to have another baby and I will have to deal with most of this again, and I STOPPED LAUGHING.
But hopefully it makes you laugh, whether it reminds you of your own pregnancy, or you are currently pregnant and going through some of this now. If you are not pregnant, have never been pregnant, or happen to have a penis – which, lucky for you, makes you exempt from these symptoms… then read on anyway and gloat about the fact that you don’t have to deal with this… for now.
THE IRONIES OF PREGNANCY
1) I can’t drink, yet I constantly feel hung-over.
2) My boobs are suddenly stripper-big, yet they hurt so bad that no one – including my husband – is allowed to come within 7 1/2 feet of them.
3) I am completely exhausted but not allowed to drink coffee.
4) I have a constant headache but cannot take ibuprofen.
5) I am consistently nauseous but also ravenously hungry.
6) Suddenly I have acne, but I am not allowed to use any kind of acne medication. The only thing worse than having acne is having acne AND wrinkles. And a giant belly. And swollen hands and feet. And a fat ass.
7) Pregnancy misconception: That pregnant “glow” is actually a sheen of sweat on my face after vomiting violently.
9) I was prepared to change diapers. I wasn’t prepared to have to wear them.
10) There are so many things that I need to do to prepare for the baby, yet I just can’t seem to remember what they are right now… wait… what was I saying? Where are my keys?
11) At nine months preggers, the hardest thing to do is get out of bed, yet I have to pee every hour. I spend 5 minutes hoisting myself out of bed (crane anyone?); 3.5 minues waddling to the bathroom; 2 minutes lowering myself down onto the toilet seat; 3 seconds actually peeing; 2 minutes cursing my bladder for constantly tricking me into thinking I have to pee, then only squeezing out a few drops; 3 minutes hoisting myself back up from toilet seat; 3.5 min waddling back to bed; 5 more min to lower myself back down into bed (seriously, Crane. anyone?); 1 min realizing that this entire sequence will repeat itself in 35 minutes.
12) I spent my entire pregnancy eating all the right things so that my baby would grow, grow, grow. Now, I realize that this baby has to somehow come out of my vagina … um… any recipes to get my baby to shrink, shrink, shrink?
13) A baby the size of a watermelon is about to come out of a hole the size of a grape (well now a lemon – can’t. think. about. that.) yet my biggest fear is that I am going to poop on the table. (editor’s note: I did NOT)
14) I haven’t even met my daughter yet – in fact, most of her interactions with me thus far have been in the form of painful kicks and jabs and an irritating push on the bladder or two – but somehow I love her more than I have loved anything. More than I even thought possible.
Rereading this list reminds me of all of the things I hated about being pregnant… the physical discomforts, the embarrassing side effects, the frustrating lists of dos and don’ts. The truth is that I really didn’t like being pregnant at all. But I think the most interesting part of the list is that last one. It is strange to love someone so much when you haven’t even met them yet. That kind of love never happens except when you are waiting to meet your child (and also with Ryan Gosling. I don’t need to meet him to love him. My husband is just lucky he met me first!) What I couldn’t have known then was that the love I felt was just the tip of the iceberg – my love would continue to grow exponentially every single day. That kind of love is worth every inconvenience, heartburn and heartache. It is worth not drinking for 10 months (If you know me, you know that means a lot.) It is even worth pooping on the delivery table in front of a room full of strangers (which, I repeat, I did NOT). That kind of love is worth anything.