While I am absolutely stoked about having a little bambino… I’m not going to lie about the drawbacks of being pregnant. For those of you who are fighting off the itch to have a mini-me, here are the drawbacks of pregnancy (well, MY pregnancy – I have some pals that have reported NO bad symptoms during their pregnancy and to them I say, “you suck”).
- Food aversions. People keep asking me if I’m craving crazy stuff. I’m really not. What’s happening to me is that I’m grossed out by things that I used to love. I’m also replacing some of my healthier normal meals with carb-heavy, cheese-loaded food and I’m not liking this. Things I haven’t been able to stomach that I used to adore?
(a) Oatmeal. This was my staple breakfast for YEARS. I used to eat plain oatmeal with almonds, a banana and flaxseed. I started dressing it with cinnamon and it was a delight. It kept me full for a long time and I was able to sneak in some Omega-3 in there. Now? Get that shit away from me. The texture makes me gag. (2) Pancakes. Omg… sweet pancakes. Sweet blueberry pancakes with maple syrup. There is something about the spongey texture of pancakes that makes me ill and (3) Spinach smoothies. I know that sounds disgusting but I was really enjoying the spinach, blueberries, banana, milk and Amazing Grass smoothies I was drinking… EVERY DAY. Now? The thought of it makes me sick.
- Everyone asking me if I’m craving meat. I get it – I’m a vegetarian and pregnant ladies crave weird shit like pickles dipped in jelly fried with ham… or whatever. But I’m not craving meat. I won’t eat meat. Stop asking me.
- Pizza face. And back. And chest. WTF. I normally have fantastic skin. But now I feel like I’m fighting break-outs left and right. I was getting them all over my face but that seems to have subsided (although I still get the occasional pimple). But now I’m battling bacne and chest-acne. SO.GROSS. There is currently a pimple on my back that could be my long lost twin-sister growing out of me. If I see teeth and hair coming out of that bitch, I’m going to cut it out with a switchblade.
- Old Wives’ Tales. Everytime I reveal a symptom of my pregnancy – someone has a tale about what it means I’m having. So far I’ve heard:
Pimples = girl
All day nausea = girl
Fetal heartbeat > 140 = girl.
Salt cravings = boy.
Chinese gender predictor = boy. Over the weekend, a woman took a look at my little belly and said she thought I was carrying low (its a bit soon for this, no?) and said I was having a boy. Another girl looked at my belly and said I was obviously having a girl. So… it looks like I’m having a hermaphradite.
- Back aches. Holy hell – my back is killing me. I don’t know if its the extra weight on the front or the fact that I have been forbidden from laying flat on my back for extended periods of time therefore I am now sleeping with a thousand pillows surrounding me so that I don’t lay flat on my back… but the pain is killing me. It is worse in the afternoon after I’ve been sitting in a desk chair all day.
- My boobs are not getting any bigger. They hurt like hell in the beginning but they haven’t actually increased. What kind of bullshit is that? That was the ONE thing I was looking forward to in the pregnancy. Bigger boobs! Mother Nature is seriously fucking with me on this one. I’m constantly grabbing my boobs to check if they feel any bigger (especially after a particularly achy day) but nothing. I’ve got nothing.
- Feeling like everything I could do could kill the baby. Laying flat on my back? Apparently it can cut off the blood supply to my baby. Working out too hard? I’m taking blood away from the baby. Eating soft cheese that isn’t pasteurized? I could kill the baby. Drinking alcohol and smoking cracK? Apparently bad for baby. Seriously – I feel like everything I do might KILL! BABY!
- Rollercoaster of emotions. Holy shit. I cry about EVERYTHING. Commercials. Songs. Lifetime movies. Pictures. And at the same time, little things can turn me into the Incredible Hulk. Jeremy left a sock on the floor? KIM! ANGRY! KIM PUNCH JEREMY! When we were traveling back from Turks & Caicos, I was ready to throw down with a few people in the airport.
- Big foot. And what the hell is up with my feet? Everytime I shop for new shoes – I can’t even squeeze my foot into my normal shoe size. I’ve had to buy a half size to a full size up (although all of my old shoes still fit fine). I already have big feet. Now I’m just getting angry.
- Abominable Snowman / Yeti. And where is all this hair coming from? My hair is growing faster and thicker than ever… and now I’m seeing it in places where I didn’t see it before. Like my stomach. MY STOMACH! I don’t have a happy trail. I have a happy forest. It is so gross.
- Reading the plethora of other symptoms that will hit me like a ton of bricks later. I just read a whole chapter dedicated to constipation. And if that happens to me… I.will.die. And apparently the exhaustion I was feeling in the first trimester? Ha! That is nothing compared to the third trimester. Oh and dark, large pancake nipples are on the horizon?! Is that the price one pays for bigger boobs? God help me.