I’m getting pretty tired of hearing people rave about how much they love being pregnant. Are they all just pretending, or have they truly lost their minds? Maybe it’s the magical hormones that wipe away the memory of how tough this journey can be. Let’s be real: if it weren’t for that, the human race might be in big trouble.
With just a month to go until the big day, I’m wondering how on earth I’m supposed to survive these last few weeks without being able to indulge in a nice cocktail. So, if you come across someone who is Very Impregnated (VIP), keep these points in mind. Show them some empathy and maybe even bring them a donut or two. Trust me, they need it!
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My breasts have made it clear they’re not returning to their pre-pregnancy state. On average, women gain about three pounds per breast during pregnancy, but one of mine has taken it all. The other? I’m getting serious throwback vibes to middle school. At this point, my only hope for a decent bra is to create a Frankenstein contraption from two separate ones. If you see me leaning to one side, now you know why—thanks, gravity.
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As I near 36 weeks, my midwife reminded me about the Strep B test. “You remember what that means?” she asked. Oh, I remember all right. It’s the moment you get a Q-tip in an awkward place. Let’s just call it what it is, shall we?
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Everyone keeps telling me I’m carrying high, but honestly, I feel like I’m one sneeze away from meeting my baby. If this is considered high, I can’t imagine how low one could go without giving birth right there.
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Complete strangers keep saying, “You’re almost done!” with their obnoxious little air-punches. I have four weeks left, which is 28 days, 672 hours, and a staggering 40,320 minutes. If you have any sense, you’ll turn around and RUN when you see me. And if you’re really nice, order me a pizza while you’re at it.
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The phrase “barefoot and pregnant” finally makes sense to me now. My feet are no longer feet; they’re more like personal flotation devices at this point. I could probably walk on water and gain a following. Even flip-flops are a struggle, as my skin puffs around the straps. Anyone who can still wear heels at this stage? They’re either a robot or Gwyneth Paltrow, and I just don’t trust them.
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Speaking of swelling, my wedding rings are taking a vacation on my bedside table. I nearly had to cut them off! If you ever need to free your fingers from their gold prison, add that to your list of 769 Uses For Coconut Oil.
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Earlier in my pregnancy, a belly rub was somewhat acceptable because it meant I actually looked pregnant. Now, though? My skin is stretched to the max, and my belly button has become a sensitive area. Each time someone touches my belly, I involuntarily make a sound that could only be described as the cry of a distressed llama. Seriously, just stop touching me already!
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If one more person tells me I’m eating for two while I reach for a cupcake, I swear they’ll be in for a rude awakening! Everything hurts, but that cupcake is pure bliss. The only reason anyone should mention “eating for two” is to hand me another cupcake, while assuring me how skinny I look.
At this point, no horror story about labor could scare me away from giving birth. All I want is to sit on the toilet without feeling like I’m about to fall over. And let’s not even get started on my nipples—goodness, they’ve grown to a size that could probably be seen from space!
For more insights on pregnancy and home insemination, check out IVF Babble, or if you’re keen on the ins and outs of self insemination, Make a Mom has great resources! And don’t miss our detailed discussion on this topic here.
In summary, the last month of pregnancy is quite the experience, filled with endless discomforts and surprising changes. From body transformations to unsolicited advice, it’s a whirlwind that truly tests your patience. But hey, at least there are cupcakes!