A few things I don't like about being pregnant: Giant underwear. The days of tiny little bikini briefs are over. I now wear giant underwear that I have to heave over my giant belly. If I don't wear these undies, and opt to wear another kind, they fall down in the middle of the street and dogs eat them.
A juicy yoni. My vag has never been this juicy. Makes for great sex, but I can't get away with not wearing those giant undies mentioned above. The juice needs a buffer otherwise I'm sloshing my drizzle all over the place. And that's nasty.
Frothy bush. Hair can have growth spurts during pregnancy. Especially the bush hair. Those long and wiry follicles can sometimes get caught up between my now rubbing thighs, then ripped out.
Pathetic looks from strangers. Like small people and the elderly in wheelchairs, pregnant ladies fall into the feeble and cute class. These days I walk by strangers, get the once over, twice over, and a pitiful smile. Thanks.
Endless Peeing. I peed at least 25 times today. And last night I woke up 5 times from blissful slumber to pee.
The No's. I can't consume most things these days. No sugar, no bread, no deli meats, no crack cocaine. I yuck the no's.
Yuckems. Stomach aches from mega doses of iron pills, poo blockage, swollen feet, sore groin muscles, ripped vaginal tissue, and, and, and...
Aching back. When I hoist myself from bed (to pee) I grunt and thrust my hand to my back. (Sometimes it feels like I have little elves inside my lower back pounding away at me with nails.) I thought this was a stereotypical preggers move made to add drama to TV, but it's for real.
Breathless stairhiking. I currently have 50% more blood than non-pregnant mammals, which makes activities such as climbing the stairs, beating eggs, changing sheets, and hula hopping a wee difficult.
Hospital bills. The pile up has begun. Even as an insured person ( a rare thing in this here country, I know) I still have a few thousand dollars I have to pay my trusty midwives.
Dress-Up. To dress this belly is one of the more taxing things of the day. The belly is robust and these tits are wild. Togas are the only thing I'm finding appropriate. Togas and ace bandage wraps.
Fatigue. I'm fucking tired.
Things I like about being pregnant:
Those loving looks. My man looks at this big ol' belly and beams. He's a proud papa indeed.
Abdominal wobble. Just before going to bed each night I lie and watch miss Beckett dance around my innards. It's the most invigorating experience ever. And it never fails to crack me up.
Filial bond. I do feel closer to my family now that I'm knocked up. I was close to them before, but now they are extra sparkly in my eyes.
Shameless tear shed. I can stand on a corner of a seedy street and cry without feeling bad about it. Hormones do wonders for much needed eye gush.
Body love. This big pregnant belly and these jungle tits are sultry. It's undeniably hot stuff and it's been fascinating watching it all transform.
Miss Beckett. It goes without saying, building a baby, or should I say housing a baby, is transformative wonder.