by Sarah Showfety
The first 18 months of my baby's life were filled with moments I felt the need to apologize for. Like when I used her naptime to binge watch Game of Thrones instead of reading that Baby Whisperer book. Or when that wine cork popped and woke her up 30 seconds after I left her room. Or using my last two dollars at a garage sale to buy Fifty Shades of Grey instead of the teddy bear she was eyeing.
These than stellar parenting moments are now memorialized in my book: Dear Baby: I'm Sorry... Apologies for Life's Little Parenting Fails. (Daughter, when you hate me in about twelve-ish years, please refer back to this document). But having recently gone through a second pregnancy, I realized pregnant women (especially first-timers) are also due some apologies. So here goes.
Dear (First-time) Pregnant Lady:
- Sorry your boobs feel like punching bags. Blame increased blood flow for making your tatas feel like they're pulling overtime at Gleason's Gym. (It may also cause a gorgeous green highway of veins to surface there. Who's the lucky girl?) Your boobs should not be fondled, grazed or looked at during this time. Even the looks. They hurt. Find bras with no seams, no lace, no wires, no shape. Just buy a formless cotton blob of fabric that will make them look like hell but feel like they just got outta jail. P.S. Sorry but you also need to put stretch mark cream on those melons.
Sorry you pee more than a Great Dane. You are a veritable geyser of urination, running to the toilet more than a senior citizen about to board the Depends train. Not ideal when you have a meeting, or want to see a movie without missing half of it because you have to take yet another leak. Sorry you have to do Kegels and cross your legs if you feel a cough or sneeze coming on, because you never know what might fall out. Sorry even though everyone keeps telling you "sleep now" you can't. Not only is back-snoozing out due to a slight issue of crushing a vein that delivers blood to your heart, you may also have indigestion, anxiety, a snoring problem and an acrobatic party animal fetus. Sorry you will be rolling side to side so much you wake up with sore hips and your underpants around your knees -- without having any fun getting them there. Sorry you can't remember jack and keep bumping into walls. Halfway through, you may develop a wicked case of circus klutz disease and "why the hell did I come in this room, again?" syndrome. There are reasons for your bovine movements and momnesia. The front porch you're hauling around throws off balance. Loose ligaments are turning your body into porridge. Brain activity on the emotional side is way up and the thinking side is flat-lining. Sorry, but it's best to carry a list of your favorite vocabulary words for reference when you're trying to form sentences. Sorry you live in fear of bending at the waist. Maybe not yet. But soon, one of your daily goals will be to NOT DROP ANYTHING. If something slips from your grasp, you will stare, dejected, trying to rationalize leaving it there. And when you can't, with the grace of a hippopotamus and the speed of an elderly woman at CVS paying in exact change, you will lower yourself, shins first, until one of your kneecaps crashes on the floor, allowing you to gingerly retrieve the fallen object. Sorry, but if you can do this without tipping over and needing someone twice your size to help you up, you're winning. Sorry you're hairier than a chinchilla. I know you can't SEE under your belly button anymore, but trust me, the hairs down there are at least an inch long. And...is that a moustache on your nipple? Due to sex hormones called androgens, face and body hair is growing fast and out of control, giving you that wolverine chic look. Sorry, but avoid harsh light and allow extra time for emergency chin tweezing sessions. Sorry everyone feels entitled to make inappropro comments about your body. Oh boy, get ready. Those last few weeks (or months if you're like me and you make 9+ pounders), while buying milk you may hear, "You look as though that could happen any minute." And you'll smile sweetly, wanting to say, "and you look like you're due for your next electrolysis appointment!" You may also hear, "Have you got any room to breathe?" "Is it twins?" And "I just don't see how you'll make it to term!" Aw, you guys, so sweet! Thanks for noticing I'm the size of a log cabin and you can't fathom how I could get any bigger.
(P.S. if you are in your first trimester, sorry you gag every time you open your refrigerator and feel like you've been shot with a horse tranquilizer. Hang in there. Only half a year to go!)
Photography by Red Anchor Photo for Well Rounded NY.
This piece was originally published by Sarah Showfety on Well Rounded NY. Sarah Showfety is the author of Dear Baby: I'm Sorry...Apologies for Life's Little Parenting Fails, a compilation of photo apologies for her comic parenting blunders and creator of the humorous web series Pregnancy 411: Stuff You Need to Know if You Have a Fetus. She is a mom of two, writer and diehard taco fan. You can keep up with Dear Baby on Facebook, Instagram or Twitter.
Please share your opinion below! For more original content, check out Well Rounded NY.
Follow Well Rounded NY on Instagram and Facebook
Follow Well Rounded NY on Twitter