What no one tells you before getting pregnant...

*This post was originally published back in 2018 after I had Liv – so it was high time to update being pregnant again 4.5 years later! It’s funny how many things I’m experiencing this time around that are totally unique compared to my first pregnancy – and I’ve heard that’s so common. So whether you’re pregnant with your first or fifth, know that I see you, I feel you…we’re in this together, mama. 😉

Happy MONDAY, friends. How was your weekend? We’ve been through a bit of a ringer lately, but I reaaaaally feel like being able to look at the positive/funny/rosier side o’ things has been the key (right behind our main squeeze Jesus) to getting to this week and feeling *good*.

The below aren’t necessarily rosy…but they’re real. And because we keep it real around these rosy parts (maybe too real? Ha!), I couldn’t NOT give ya the truth of the matter. The very pregnant matter.

Even though I only made it to ~7 months pregnant before giving birth, I had so many moments of calling my own mom (or girlfriends) to ask, “Is this normal?!?!” Turns out…YUP. Yup, it was. All of it. It’s just that no one told me *before* getting pregnant what I could/should really expect. So without further adieu…

Meme via thefunnybeaver.com

Currently 27 weeks pregnant with our second!

Being pregnant is a lot like being elderly. You get priority seating on the bus, other people put your shoes on for you, and you can’t control your pee.
Speaking of pee, who run the world? Your bladder. Your bladder is not your own, folks. It’s being controlled by a little human that doesn’t even have eyebrows (yet).
Wanna know what it’s like in third trimester? Tie a soccer ball to your abs.
How to get out of bed? Just roll around. Eventually momentum (or gravity) will help out.
How to shave? Just don’t.
If you have to blow your nose, pee first or you’ll realize how great of a multitasker you really are.
Speaking of your nose, your foot bones connected to your ankle bone, your ankle bones connected to your leg bone…and somehow your nose is connected to your uterus. You won’t bleed out your vagina for 9 months, but you will randomly bleed out your nose. And you’ll be stuffy, because that somehow makes sense…
You’ll relate now more than ever to Regina George. “These sweatpants are all that fits me right now.” Sign a sistah up for maternity leggings (these are so good, as are these!), and buy 7 pairs.
Random strangers in Walmart will try to predict how far along you are. Just play along while you grab your Reese’s Puffs and lettuce (because #balance) and be on your baby mama way. Or, when they look at you clearly pregnant and ask, “Oh, are you expecting?“, look them square in the eye, say “no!” and walk away, because they still haven’t learned to not comment on strangers’ bodies. 😉
You’ll itch. Not just where you’re stretching, but like, everywhere.
Your shoe size may change. All I know is if mine does (it didn’t with Liv, TBD now – my mom’s did with me!), some lucky lady and fellow 7.5 is getting 100+ pairs and your girl is going on a shoe shopping spree STAT…
Everyone and their mom thinks they have the next best piece of advice to parent your child. And it normally starts with, “OH, just you wait…”
One day you’re craving Half Baked Ben & Jerry’s, the next you’re craving prosciutto-stuffed hot peppers. Oh, did I say day? I meant minute.
Brushing your teeth will start leaving you looking like a UFC fighter. Bloody gums are apparently part of making a baby.
…Ditto to bloody noses.
You may be an emotional hot mess express. I had PPD after having Olivia – this time around, I had prenatal anxiety/depression from around 10-13 weeks, and then it went away on its own as I entered second trimester. Then around Week 24, I couldn’t go out to eat without crying into my taco bowl. Just picture your period hormones for nine straight months and tell your friends/family to #GiveGrace. (Also, give YOURSELF grace).
Morning sickness is not morning sickness. It’s an any-time-any-where sickness. And it can be triggered by anything. A smell, a description, breathing too hard – just keep snacking small and always have protein in your belly.
Hormonal migraines may hit ya like a brick to the head. Stock up on Powerade + extra strength Tylenol now.
You don’t actually glow. You just learn how to use spot concealer like a champ. Add highlight to really fool ’em all. 😉
Your belly button becomes reminiscent of a third nipple.
Your new superhuman skill is your sense of smell. And it will manifest when your puppy has an accident in the house and you become Private Eye Preggers on the job to sniff out the crime scene.
Pregnancy eczema is the weirdest friggin’ phenomenon. One day, you’re fine. The next, you’re covered in little fluid-filled bumps that you swear came from Satan. And you’re in Walgreens, grabbing one of every bottle labeled “itch relief.” And then you’re at home, wearing rubber gloves, praying you don’t scratch your own skin from your body. And then it goes away. Like, what?
Also, it’ll pop up in the weirdest places. For my next trick (aka, pregnancy #2), it’s just the backs of my hands that are dry as a day in the Sahara. JUST THE BACKS.
Your pets will fart a lot more 😉
Pregnancy brain is real. But when you have the baby, you still have pregnancy brain.
Rolling over in bed is like a three-part Netflix documentary.
Nesting is oh so real. It might mean you arrange (then re-arrange) every bookshelf in sight. Maybe you start folding his underwear for him, – heck, maybe you take up canning, or decide it’s a good idea to scrub the toilet on your lunchbreak. Or maybe you build an actual nest out of the 12 blankets you’ll buy because you’re #TiredAF.
You’ll have the best boobs of your life. I don’t even know what to do with them.
You forget what it’s like to not have back pain. Or hip pain.
Your scalp will be suddenly dry and flaky. Feels as cute as it looks.
You’re going to wonder if you should hire somebody to wipe your butt.
Suddenly everything is an Olympic event and you’re always out of breath. Loofah-ed your whole body in the shower? You win. Carried the gallon of milk in from the car? Ding ding ding! And going up steps?! Sweet Jesus, you get the gold medal. And then someone calls you and you sound like Darth Vadar and they ask if you’re “working out” and you’re like “yes, I’m making a human.” Walking to the bathroom for the 37th time is now an aerobic workout.
Sometimes you’ll wake up at 4 am like HELLO IT IS TIME TO DO THE DAY.
You have arrived at Constipation Station. There’s no going back.
You’ll need designated helpers for things like putting on socks, and you’ll stop wearing any shoe that a.) has laces and/or b.) has a heel.
You “pop” waaaay sooner with your second. Actually, everyone told me that. So I’m telling you, because it’s 100% true.
You will pee, go to sit down elsewhere, and immediately have to go pee again. You will pee when you cough. You will pee when you sneeze. You will always be peeing.
Speaking of, you’ll panic thinking your water broke at 17 weeks pregnant and then find out you just peed yourself. Love this journey for you (hi, it’s me).
You don’t actually have to love it. I, actually, absolutely do not love it. Now, this can cause a lot of ~feelings~ especially if you, like me, had any experience struggling to GET pregnant in the first place – there can be a sortof implied pressure that you should just be grateful and in your glory as a glowy mama-t0-be. But, hear me when I say that not enjoying the actual physical process of pregnancy DOES NOT MEAN that you are not painfully grateful to be bearing this child. You’re allowed to be so grateful for getting pregnant, and also so ready to NOT be pregnant anymore. Carrying another human being inside your body for so long can be a totally alien experience that often feels like a LITERAL ALIEN is cohabitating your womb. If you have more moments of “this is so weird and not my thing” than moments of “I want to sit in a flower-laden milk bath as a mother goddess,” that’s a-okay.
No matter how many random passersby in the grocery store try to bestow the most worldly wisdom upon you for what the next 18+ years of your life will entail…absolutely nothing will prepare you for the overwhelming onslaught of emotions that will envelop your entire being the first time you hear your baby cry. Brace yo’self, girlfriend…one helluvah wild ride ahead. 😉