As I sit here blogging, watching Real Housewives and face masking (being pretty basic) I am wondering why every year as soon as I get to Germany my face goes to shit. I can not figure it out. I have Never had more than one small pimple at a time. Germany does something to me, it got me thinking about how awesome my skin and hair was during my pregnancy (even when I was in Germany). They rocked! My skin and hair were on point. That then got me thinking about how awful almost everything else about pregnancy was. I KNOW there are other women out there feeling the way I did. I’m here to tell you you are not alone in hating pregnancy, you are not a bad person and it absolutely does not mean you are going to be a bad mom. We will start after conception, because conception was awesome.
Exhaustion. Before I had even missed my period I knew something was up. The ridiculous fatigue and absolutely drained tiredness I was experiencing was not normal. After two days of this, despite drinking 2-3 coffees and a red bull a day, I went and got the test. Well… I was right and I was preggy. The first three months of my pregnancy were a blur. I slept 70 percent of the time. I would sleep till 10:30 or so, eat lunch when Travis got home from practice, take a nap with him, eat dinner, then go to sleep about 9:30. Needless to say I wasn’t real productive. I don’t know how women with toddlers or jobs can do it. Hats off to you because you women are amazing!
Itching. My skin itched like no other. Starting about week 2 to week 14 nothing helped the itching. I lotioned, I took oatmeal baths, I used coconut oil… Nothing worked. I remember itching so bad one night I had to take my shirt off and asked my husband to scratch my back while I scratched my front… he quickly went from my back to my boobs (because they were huge) where I almost immediately started throwing a crying fit because I didn’t want him feeling my boobs and trying to have sex with me. I knew I was being ridiculous I just couldn’t stop myself.
Crying. That crying fit story directly relates with my next reason I didn’t love (hated) pregnancy…. the crying. I am not a crier. I don’t see a point in it. It doesn’t get things accomplished, it doesn’t make anything better, and for me, personally, I don’t like to show an overwhelming amount of emotion. (I’m sure I’ll get shit from those emotional women, because I have before in the past, telling me, “Showing emotion is okay. It’s not embarrassing. You should grow up.” To those women I say, “Don’t waste your time, I’m not changing.”) However, when I was pregnant you would have thought I was Robin from Sister Wives. (Not the sharing my husband part of Robin. If some woman touches my husband shit is gonna go down.) The Robin that cries over EVERYTHING!! Happy, sad, stressed, sentimental, anxious… crying for it all. I was an emotional wreck and I hated it.
Having to Lie about Loving Pregnancy. For the first part of my pregnancy when people would ask me about how the pregnancy was going I’d always say, “It’s going good.” They would then usually follow-up with, “Don’t you just love it?” I don’t know why it took me so long to start telling the truth and stop feeling bad about not loving it. I hate lying. It makes me feel so two-faced and I hate two-faced people. (People seem to either love you or hate you when you are truthful. This blog is a perfect example, people either love it or hate it.) So when I finally started telling the truth about how I hated it I learned A LOT of women felt the same way I did and didn’t like being pregnant. It was a relief to know I wasn’t alone and wasn’t going to be a bad mom just because I hated being pregnant.
Getting Fat. The absolute worst part of pregnancy. Around 3 months my clothes stopped fitting and not in that look at my cute preggy belly kind of way, but in that freshman 15, can’t quite get my pants buttoned, jiggly fat, boobs popping out kind of way. My thighs were starting to rub together and I was constantly pulling my pants from my crotch. Cellulite was forming on the back of my legs…It. Was. Horrifying. My husband would continuously tell me, “Kasey, you are beautiful. You aren’t fat, you’re pregnant.” I would usually follow-up with a less than nice response about how he was f-ing lying and then I would cry..(Gosh, I hate the crying.) It would be easy to say you aren’t fat, you’re pregnant when you aren’t the one getting fat.
Doctor Telling Me I Was Gaining Too Much. Along with the gaining weight… when I got back to The States at 6.5 months pregnant I had gained 18 pounds and my doctor told me I needed to start watching my weight because I didn’t want to gain too much. It would be unhealthy. So then not only was I sad about the cellulite, but I was also stressed and sad about needing to stop eating so much. I wasn’t eating ridiculously unhealthy, I was eating more pasta then usual, but not shoving myself with ice cream and candy. (Even pregnant I didn’t care for either that much.) I never had any cravings, so I can’t imagine what the doctor would have said if I was actually eating like your typical pregnant women. I definitely would have weighed way more than I did.
Vampire Nose. Another shitty part of being pregnant is having what I call the vampire nose. I now know how Edward Cullen feels everyday of his vamp life. Being able to smell everything sucks. I could tell if my husband left the trash can lid open in the kitchen from the living room two rooms away. Me being the emotional asshole that I was would take it personal, usually get mad, and surprise surprise… cry.
Anxiety. I have always been one to hate large crowds and feel uncomfortable in them. I always feel like someone wants to shank me and now they also want to steal my baby. I’m always stressfully aware of my surroundings. I clearly have anxiety about some stuff, but during pregnancy I had anxiety about everything. Flying all of a sudden sent me into a can’t breathe, I’m going to die panic attack. At certain points leaving the house would give me anxiety… I don’t know what I was anxious about, but I knew I was… (Probably the impending pain and misery of giving birth.)
No patience. My patience for stupidity and people being ignorant has never been high. (For example, some twit commented on one of my post trying to make me feel bad that I bought and suggested Doctor Brown’s bottles. She then bitched at me for telling the truth about Enfamil and Similac formulas in that they aren’t as good as they claim to be. Her reasoning for commenting was that she was so disgusted with my stupidity because ((I imagine her voice is very whiny, high-pitched and life is unfair)) “Not everyone can afford those brands so why would you ever shame women that can’t afford your fancy brands?” I personally feel like her misdirected anger and the use of the word ‘shame’ regarding my post is stupidity. Because I NOW have a little patience I chose not to tell her how stupid and wrong I knew she was, but she is a perfect example of someone I would have completely snapped on while pregnant.) While I was pregnant I was a complete snap show. I had no patience for anything. Now I had my days of being my sweet, normal self and my husband will say that I wasn’t that bad, but I felt like I was constantly snapping and angry. When everyone is constantly giving you unwanted opinions and advice it really test your patience. I have my close friends and family that I liked to talk to about baby stuff, but it was those random people who barely knew me and think they had some sort of right to give me their opinion and tell me a horror stories because they have been through it that really got to me fired up. (I was also confused why advice and opinions always came with a complete horror story. Never did they come with a lovely, chill story. Note to anyone that reads this DON’T TELL PREGNANT WOMEN A BAD OR SCARY STORY. They are already scared enough. It’s a dick head thing to do.)
Part II coming soon! Find out more on the not so wonderful happenings during the miracle of pregnancy
**…Even after all the misery of being pregnant there is one thing makes me seriously consider doing it again some day and that is our amazing daughter. Call me crazy. (I’ve already gotten those sarcastic, asshole comments about how they hope ‘I’ve never have to go through that terrible thing called pregnancy again’ so anyone thinking about commenting can save it.) My husband and I made an amazing, smart, cute, funny kid and the world would be blessed for another one of ours.