I am calling bullshit on the whole pregnancy glow.
The only thing that ‘glows’ about me during pregnancy, is the shine from the sweat that wakes me up each night while I flop uncomfortably from one side to the next.
There is nothing luscious or luminous about my body during pregnancy. Unless the definition of luminous has changed and now means swollen, gassy, tired and hormonal?
I caught my first glimpse of what would come, at just six weeks pregnant. I was excited about a night out with the girls. That is until I realised, with horror, that my ankles had become so swollen that I could no longer wear my favourite strappy heels. Not at least without causing permanent scarring (I am looking at you Kim Kardashian). It was all downhill from there.
Every morning I wake up with more varicose veins on my legs. Snaking their way down, they are a constant reminder of my poor circulation and blood flow, and unlike stretch marks, they also ache with extreme discomfort. Don’t let them trick you either. They don’t always disappear after pregnancy. Mine certainly didn’t the first time round! The only thing worse than pregnancy symptoms is lies about pregnancy symptoms.
I have now had thrush exactly three times. Coupled with the fact that my breasts ache and itch constantly as my toddler turns his nose up at the change in my breastmilk and hates my squirming from the sore nipples, I am probably targeting my least attractive state. Just shy of that time in Malaysia where I got food poisoning from eating street oysters.
I am also wondering when my breasts will get the memo that breastfeeding my toddler is no longer on the cards and give me a break.
My husband sits pretty, sympathetic but completely unchanged in mind and body. Sleeping peacefully on his stomach and enjoying spicy curry with ease before riding off on his bike into the sunset.
While I waddle uncomfortably after my Usain Bolt running toddler. Begging him to stop jumping on my swollen belly and to maybe just sit quietly for a few minutes of the day. And my husband wonders why I get just a tad resentful at times and no longer always resemble the easy going woman that he married??
My hormones are constantly raging. Last night I cried, because a baby in an ad cried, and I couldn’t stand it. I wanted to rip the baby from the television and nuzzle him closely to my chest. I nearly divorced my husband when he thought it would be a good idea to recommend a show that included horrific zombies of breastfeeding mums becoming infected. I am far too sensitive for this shit anymore.
Riddled with heartburn, food is now the enemy. The scale shoots up overnight. Where the fuck did that 2kg come from anyway?? Surely the bowl of cereal I ate at 8pm because I was starving and had a moment of weakness, does not constitute 2kg worth. And now I am going to get another lecture from the midwife about keeping my weight gain ‘steady’. I have no control over this shit! Your chart, midwife, just makes me feel like shit. What is ‘steady’ weight gain anyway. My weight will ‘steadily’ climb as high as it damn well wants to because I am HUNGRY damnit.
Today I saw a picture of Kayla Itsines with her own twenty week bump. If you don’t know who Kayla Itsines is, she is an Australian personal trainer, author, entrepreneur and Instagram sensation with over 11 million followers, marvelling at her rock hard abs.
Her twenty week bump is about the same size as my regular stomach. I will admit, she may have the mythical pregnancy glow. But she is also an absolute fitness dynamo with incredible bone structure and long shiny hair. Is she the one who we have to compare ourselves to?? My irrational hatred of her (which I know is caused by hormones, because for all intents and purposes she seems to be a really nice person), has completely engulfed me.
Every day a new weird and wonderful (not wonderful) pregnancy symptom rears its ugly head, and the only relief I get is the tiny little kicks I feel in my stomach. A little reminder that says, oh hey there Mum, you are at least going through this bullshit for a good reason.
So for those on Instagram who use the hashtag ‘pregnancy glow’, spare a thought for those of us who do anything that glow. Those of us that waddle our way through pregnancy, vomiting and swelling all the way.
Instead let us share in the hashtag ‘pregnancy glow is bullshit. But its worth it for the tiny human’. Lets just be realistic about this thing. Because while the end result is nothing short of miraculous, getting there is nothing short of completely shit and pregnant women should be revered for the super women that we are.
P.S. If you have enjoyed reading this, you may like to read http://psitsamumthing.com/the-last-time-that-i-breastfed-you/