dear pregnancy: uncle

I would consider myself a fortunate person for my not-so-bad experience as a teenager.

I had it pretty great with the exception of a period of my teenage years in which I wore both glasses and braces. Other than that, I was floating down easy street: My skin was relatively clear, I was on the low end of the “you should weigh this much for your height” scale, {Isn’t that just the most infuriating thing though? Because in looking back now, I think about how positively rail-thin I looked, when at the time, all I could think about was how fat I was, and how I absolutely needed to lose ten pounds. I’d like to go back in time and smack myself. Anyone got a time machine laying around?} and I was able, through the sheer power of youth, to not only survive on 4-5 hours of sleep a night, but thrive on it. All that, and I didn’t have to worry about paying a mortgage.

I would even go so far as to say that since that time, with the exception of some minor weight fluxuation – which I managed to really get under control as of last year – I’ve not done bad in maintaining a youthful appearance. I realize I’m only 26, but now I don’t have braces or glasses {score!} and I have a much better sense of style then I did then, and occasionally the money to indulge in it. Things have been going pretty well.

And then I had to go and mess it all up by getting pregnant.

Thrive on 4-5 hours of sleep? Oh no, my friends. Not at all. In fact, even with a full 8 hours of sleep, I still require a 2-hour nap, at least. This doesn’t help me in the “productivity around the house” category. In case you were wondering.

A clear complexion? Fuh-get-about-it. Not only do I break out worse than I ever did when I was a teenager, but I’m starting to look like the “before” pictures of people in those Proactiv commercials.

Weight Control? Nope. I mean, I’ve managed to follow the very strict rule of only gaining  2 pounds during the 1st trimester, a feat I’m quite proud of, but there’s something about my stomach that just doesn’t look right, and it bothers me. I know my belly is going to get bigger, like I don’t need a weight-gaining intervention or anything, but I’m at the stage now where I look like I’m carrying belly fat, not a baby. I guess I shouldn’t complain too much though, becuase fitting into my clothes – more specifically, my pants – hasn’t even been an issue yet. Eh, ya win some, ya lose some.

Do I sound like a whiny brat? I really don’t want to. I’m super-greatful for this pregnancy and I can’t wait to meet our baby. But dang, what we women don’t have to endure; I have a new appreciation for us. We may always fight for equality in the work place or whatever, and feel like there are just some jobs that society tells us we shouldn’t have; but we can also carry babies in our bodies for a solid 10 months and deal with alien-like changes to those bodies and then go through what I can only assume to be the torture of labor and delivery. We rock!

But you all can be the ones to celebrate our strength and endurance for me, mmmmk? Because I need a nap.

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2 Responses to “dear pregnancy: uncle”


  1. 1 Cita Online February 15, 2011 at 12:10 pm

    I know exactly what you mean!! I was so gorgeous and thin in high school… and I had no idea.

    You know what? I’m willing to bet you look pretty stunning this pregnancy too… and you’ll realize that about ten years from now ;-)

  2. 2 lifelemons February 15, 2011 at 2:02 pm

    God Bless Hormones! You definitely do have a bump now and it is oh so cute!


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