And now, the post where I confess, "I Hate Being Pregnant"

Just shy of 13 weeks I am going to go ahead and say that I hate being pregnant. I told my mother (and my sister, and my best friend) yesterday that if one more person tells me, "pregnancy is such a joyous time, enjoy every minute of it" i was going to full out punch them. In fact, I almost hugged KG at work when she finally broke down and said, "I hated every minute of being pregnant".

And now I feel guilty. I know that there are people out there right now that are praying to become pregnant. I know there are people that have waited years and are still waiting to be pregnant. I know there are people who desparately want to be pregnant, but it is not in the cards for them. And here I sit, whining that I hate being pregnant. So not only do I dislike being pregnant, I dislike that I dislike being pregnant.

I honestly do not know how there are women who exist and do not know they are pregnant until they give birth on the toilet. We found out at week 5. I had a blessed week 5. Then since week 6, it is pretty much sucked. Yes, there are moments of relief, but they do not last more than a few days. Yes, I love hearing the heartbeat and I loved seeing the baby move around during the ultrasound. As for everything else, not so much.

So hold on, because I am just getting started with my whining.

First, I weight gain is really really bothering me. I didn't think I would mind gaining weight for the baby. I actually couldn't wait to get a belly. I still think that I would like having the baby belly and when I see pregnant women that are visibly pregnant, I find myself gazing wistfully at their belly. What I didn't think about is that you don't just go from skinny flat belly to cute pregnancy belly overnight. Oh, there are IN-BETWEEN stages. Stages where is just looks like you have a saggy belly and an extra spare tire. Stages where your thighs start to touch. Stages where your pants are just uncomfortable. Stages where you finally understand why fat people wear spandex pants all the time. Other comments that really annoy me are, "You are going to be such a cute pregnant woman! You will just look like you have a little basketball". Um, great. So when I am an enormous best then what? Someone at work actually commented, "Oh my god, I think you are showing! I think I see a little belly!". It took a lot of self-control to not start crying immediately. I know this person was telling me because she thought I would be excited. But, I wasn't excited. I was thinking, "WTF. I'm not suppossed to show yet! I'm suppossed to just pop out a little basketball in a few months!"

On Friday, I did something really dumb. I clicked on some weight calculator from one of the emails I got. You enter your pre-pregnancy weight and height. Then you enter how many weeks you are and your current weight and height. They make this nice little graph where they draw two lines - one being the top limit of how much weight you should gain and one being the bottom limit. Then, they plot your current weight point on the same graph. My plot point was SAFELY above the top limit line. I didn't exactly start crying at work but I almost did.

The sick part of all of this is that I know that I am not fat. I know that it would take a while to get to be fat. But for someone who was in pretty rockin' shape to begin with, I'm not a big fan of my extra seven pounds.

Let's move on to my boobs. Again, I really liked my pre-pregnancy boobs. Now they just look ridiculous, I am constantly aware of them, and dislike how they don't really fit into any bras. I also cannot believe how much my nipples have changed in a few short months. (Yes, I am now talking about nipples. Deal with it.) I was not prepared for any of these changes. I thought that all of these boob changes happened AFTER pregnancy. Sure, they might get a little bigger during, but no big deal. When I read that englarged breasts are on the list of happenings during the 2nd trimester, I wanted to scream. "NO! PLEASE! MAKE THEM STOP GROWING!"

I am also not a fan of the random pimples that seem to be popping up all over my face, neck, chest. GROSS. If I have to deal with the enormous breasts, must they have red sprinkles?!

The thing that bothers me the most though is just how much this all bothers me. I seriously let this ruin my birthday. I laid on my couch all day long, and whined to anyone who called me. (So if your call went to voicemail, be grateful). And now, I'm whining on a random blog post when I really should be doing some work. My pregnant friend M said that I probably will snap out of this in a few weeks. God willing, I hope that at week 16 my post will start out, "I LOVE BEING PREGNANT".