Considering the cynical and generally stressed out tone of my last blogpost, I decided to do a little a little piece on some of the plus points of pregnancy. Because, despite what I might tell you, it's not always THAT bad.
So here are some of the nicer bits of being pregnant:
Being able to eat what I want, whenever I want. This means donuts for breakfast at 5am, crusty white bread with lunch and pasta whenever the desire takes me. This also means ice-cream for dessert every evening. No more worries about food babies or muffin tops because well, my stomach's kinda gonna stick out anyway, may as well embrace it.
On that rare occasion that I do actually make the effort to cook, standing in the kitchen, pregnant and barefoot, whipping up something fabulous and feeling all virtuous and earth mothery.
No more hangovers. Ashamed as I am to say it, I can't remember an entire week going by since I was in my mid-teens that I didn't have even a little hint of a hangover. Waking up every morning without even the slightest headache or thirst has been enlightening. And as I have quit smoking as well, I also don't have that horrible smoking hangover that makes ordinary hangovers ten times worse. I currently have the lungs and liver of a 3 year old.
My boyfriend getting me stuff. All the time. He makes me cups of tea when he's only just sat down, cooks my dinner every night and hasn't complained once about my incessant moaning and feeling sorry for myself. If pregnancy has made me realise one thing, its that my bloke's a bit of a legend.
People buy you presents. And not just for the baby. Although the baby stuff is cute and unbelievably helpful, some extremely intelligent people like my big sister and mother-in-law have also had the good grace to buy me some stuff to make me feel better as well. Long soaks with my new Clarins bath stuff or playing around with my new Lush shampoos and lip scrubs really do make the difference when you feel rubbish and are just done with being pregnant.
Strangers become really nice. Men have started opening doors for me because of my bump, not my boobs. People give up their seats when they see you are with child and even check-out assistants and bank tellers suddenly become your best friend, enquiring as to the big day and wishing you luck. Even in my darkest moods, when I look rubbish and am too tired to speak to anyone, it's still kinda nice.
It's nearly time................
2 comments:
Haha, loving the positivity. Good to know it's not ALL Bad....
I feared I may be putting women off for life with my last post.......
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