Pregnancy is a super emotional time. It's literally like going through puberty again, mentally and physically. I personally have had to deal with terrible skin conditions on my face since this all started. Not to mention random--and I mean VERY random--weepiness.
Again, pregnancy sounds fantastic, doesn't it?
You will begin to experience many small things that add up to huge annoyances as you travel the pregnancy road, but be warned: DO NOT DIVULGE YOUR COMPLAINTS ON THESE ISSUES TO ANYONE. Well, anyone other than your mom, best friend, and husband. Mainly divulge every detail to your husband to remind him why you actually deserve to sit around most of the day and do nothing but sleep and eat snacks.
Why not, you ask? Because you cannot dare let them see through the veneer of extreme happiness you are supposed to now radiate. How dare you complain about anything, when you are experiencing the most awe-inspiring thing we humans are capable of: the creation of life!
So, when friends, co-workers, casual acquaintances, or members of your grandmother's church congregation ask you the unfailing, "Ooooh, how are you feeling?" or "Have you decided if you are going to breastfeed?" or "How far along are you?," don't bother to tell them how you really feel: annoyed, bored, sick, ugly, useless, irritated by their presense, not much different than you did last month when you weren't pregnant, like you've wasted precious nap time by talking to them, or any of the other million answers that might run through you rhead when they ask you this. Oh, and also, do not punch them in the face. This urge is understandable when you are, oh, let's say at a wedding, for example, and everyone around you is whooping it up in celebration of the happy couple and free alcohol, and Person #60 decides to give you a big hug of congratulations and shout at you, "So how are you feeling? Any morning sickness? Do you know what you're having yet??" as she spills a little Captain all over your bubbling-over boobs. You, like me, could not be blamed for wanting to smash in her teeth, or wishing you could just snatch that Captain and Coke out of her unsteady hand and slam it down yourself to avoid wasting any more of it on your boobs. But you cannot do that. That would be Bad Pregnant Woman form.
So, instead, when everyone in your immediate radius asks you how you are feeling 10-85 times a day, to be a Good Pregnant Woman, you must simply grin, fake that twinkle in your eye, touch your pudgy belly in that "Thank-be-to-God-for-such-a-beautiful-blessing-of-cells!" way, and tell them you feel great, fantastic, wonderful, important, purposeful, hear you roar. Because they don't actually want to hear about the pimples, puking, pains, and pudginess concerns. That would shatter the romanticized view they all have of what it's like to be presently pregnant. They want to hear that you are a woman who feels as if she is fulfilling her human purpose. So, for their sakes, try to be that.
Then just go home and call your mom. Or take a nap. You'll have earned it.
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