In no specific order, these are 10 things I hated about being pregnant and I know you will too. I’m not saying these are the overall top 10 things ever, because morning sickness isn’t on there & I know a lot of pregos get morning sickness & I feel for you. It’s just, I never had morning sickness so I can’t very well put it on my hate list.

Though I can imagine it looks something like this….



Nope, never had it. You mad? Don’t hate. I had my share of sh!t that went down; like vertigo & lock jaw. Who the f@ck gets LOCK JAW!? I didn’t even know that was a prego thing!

Good times…. Here are some other good times….


Babies Eat Brain:

You get that interruption of mind fog & your eyes become glazed over. The silence mounts; your eyes dart, squinting as your brain tries shifting back into gear. You get blank face then…f@ck it, it’s gone. You have no clue what you were set out to say or do. You can’t even remember if it was a “say” or “do”.

And never mind about where you placed an item. Let it go; you’ll give yourself an aneurism trying to follow that bunny trail.

Make peace with the fact that for the next nine months you will have a slight case of dementia. Babies are like zombies, only they suck out your brain from the inside bless their hearts.






Hot in Herre:


Only it’s nothing like a Nelly music video.

Blast the AC to 50 freakin’ freezin’ degrees; icicles will start to form on your dog’s wet nose but you’re entire body is a blazing inferno of hell fire & on top of it; it’s really pissing you off because all you want is to cool down….well not today friend; or for the next nine months for that matter.

You’re body has an internal heater turning you into the cause of the melting polar ice caps. You are the reason polar bears are drowning. Like asphalt at high noon on a lonely desert road, you can see those heat waves radiating from your body. Ring out your shirt & you’ll probably fill up a gallon jug.

Oh btw, I’m not talking about being prego in the Summer. This is what it’s like in the dead of Winter baby. If you’re prego in the Summer months (like I was); God help you.



Pissing is Your New Pastime:

“I have to pee; but I just went!”

That will be you’re broken record; followed by your mantra of

“Come on bladder, just hold it for a bit longer!”

Word to the wise, don’t hold it; because if your prego body wants to pee, it’s gonna pee. It is operating without an owner. You have no control; and that sweet little baby in your belly has decided that your bladder is now a trampoline.

Carry an extra pair of undies or tinkle pads with you at all times. Your bladder is volatile. Like a drunk Irish chick, the slightest thing will set it off. You cough or sneeze; it’s all over.






Stop Touching Me:

Without warning, they come at you outta nowhere…in swarms; all with the same primary objective…Must. Rub. Baby Belly. Suddenly your invisible bubble of comfort is popped because people, total strangers even, think it’s perfectly acceptable to touch your belly.

Back up, you are not a preacher & this isn’t a revival. Do not lay your hands on me.”

Your personal space becomes public space. You’ll be standing in line, walking in the park, or waiting for a table, doesn’t matter where; someone will approach you & say:

“Oh my, congratulations, how many months are you, how precious, bless your heart, is it a boy or girl, you look like it’s a girl, have you picked out a name, you must be so happy!”

Then they’ll take their grubby paws & place them on your belly & proceed to pat & rub it.

“Seriously? Uh-uh, I am not Buddha & you will not have good luck if you continue touching me. Step off Granny.”




Release the Kraken:

Unpredictable & unstoppable; always lying just below the surface; circling as it waits for its prey…the Prego Monster.

Anything can set it off. It viciously strikes without warning or remorse; and it’s deadly. The victim, defenseless and verbally mauled, is left to limp away slowly and silently least they provoke it further. Never make eye contact with the Prego Monster if you value your life.

It lurks in all of us. You’ll be fine then someone blinks one too many times & this rush of savage anger washes over you like a category 6. You’re she-hulk on steroids and it’s time to RAAAGE. The earth is scorched in your wake; the people, ravaged. There is no “safe place”.

However, as quickly as the Prego Monster appears, it disappears; fading away back into the depths….for now.




Dancing in the Sheets:

It’s 2am, you want to sleep; but your baby wants to DANCE! Cue the nightly baby raves! ~Nn-chi, nn-chi, nn-chi, nn-chi~

You’ve spent a long day adulting while creating life. Yesterday was a liver; today it’s a spleen. You need your freakin’ rest. The less rest, the greater the chance of the Prego Monster appearing. It’s not only for your own good & the babies; it’s for all of mankind.

You lay down, exhausted. After an hour, you find a comfortable position; then, it starts. Your baby is bouncing around like they’re in a mosh pit. STAGE DIVE onto your bladder. NAILED IT!

You feel like you’re outside of a club. Your stomach looks like the disc on a woofer with the bass turned to 11; and the beat goes on until your little EDC cutie crashes at 6am.

They don’t care, they don’t have work the next day. They don’t have a kidney or lung to manufacture. But you do. Have fun with that.



Big Foot is Real:

Your feet will swell to a gargantuan; mammoth size; and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. None of your shoes will fit. Hell none of your sandals will fit. Barefoot & pregnant is about to get real.

Cankles. Holy sh!t will you have cankles. From the knees down it’s just one massive club resembling what used to be your leg & foot.

That’s ok because they’ll match your fingers, which resemble balloon animals made by a drunken clown. “Here’s your poodle *hick*.”

“My clothes don’t fit; at least let me have cute shoes to wear. At least give me that.”

“I really don’t think so Sue.”

*sigh* Unanswered prayers….

Nope. For nine months you get to experience what an elephant must feel like traipsing around the jungle; only less graceful.





Emotion Roulette:

We as humans can experience a full spectrum of emotions. We as pregnant women can experience a full spectrum of emotions at the flip of a switch.

Feelings dart out like cards in a game of 52 pickup. Like spinning a wheel; you never know what you’re gonna land on. It might be an endearing hug. It might be a land mine.

You’ll look at someone with such loving eyes; then a second later you’ll tear them a new one. Immediately following, you’ll cry because that was terrible of you to lash out at them like that; however you’ll quickly realize that they deserved it after all, so you’ll have a good laugh about it with yourself over ice cream & steak.

“Sorry not sorry” originated from pregnant women.



Sleep Support:

What’s your sleep number? When you’re prego, it’s roughly 9; pillows that is. There are usually 4 other items needed as well; so that makes 13 support pieces to the puzzle you have to put together in order to transform your bed into a place of hope.

When combined, these will give you the optimal environment for prego sleep. Not that you’ll actual get any sleep, come on; but it’s nice to have a dream right?

Gearing up for bed, placing all of your support pegs, becomes such a production. Punching the pillows, wiggling into position, leg lifts, shoulder shrugs, shimmies, & shifts…yelling at your husband:

“Move that pillow, no THAT pillow! Why can’t you read my mind!”

Now the stage is set. All that’s left is to relax & close your eyes. Cue baby rave. And go.



Are We There Yet?:

Towards the end of the third trimester, the waiting can become unnerving. Like a child in the backseat of a car anticipating Wally World; it can’t come sooner.

You know your due date; but that means sh!t. It’s a guestimation, nothing more. You want it to be over. You did your time now it’s time to get out!

You’re swollen, uncomfortable, cramping, irritable (more than usual), & exhausted. You feel like a bloated pig that just ate a bloated big & you have a bad case of the meat sweats. Nothing helps.

You just want to squeeze your belly like a fat tick or a bulbous pimple. Pop it & be done with it. But no, you have to wait. For how long? Who knows. Best game ever.



There are many more things to hate on when you’re pregnant, like heart burn, always being tired, & skin tags (yeah, that’s a real thing).

No doubt, being pregnant can be an overall pain in the ass (literally), but it does have its sweet moments; like feeling your baby kick for the first time, experiencing those little baby hiccups, or seeing your baby on the ultrasound screen just squirming & bouncing away, knowing life is being created right inside of you. It’s a miracle!

At the end of it all, you get to hold your baby in your arms & your little one will smile at you & squeeze your finger; & it makes up for all the sucky prego things that happened & so much more.

It really is worth it…but make no mistake…it still sucks. Have fun. 😊










Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s