Between the food you have to remember to eat and NOT eat, the myriad of doctor’s appointments and all the crazy acronyms that pregnancy boards toss ’round, no wonder women get pregnancy brain. Too much crap to remember and you brain shorts out and you put your phone in the freezer. (Don’t tell my partner Jethro.)
So anyway, 17 weeks and I’m already a bad mother.
First off, I don’t think I’m drinking enough water. Honestly, I don’t think anyone is drinking enough water, but since I’m sharing my space for the next five months, I should probably be more considerate. But I just don’t FEEL LIKE IT. It’s tough, trying to plow through 64 ounces a day. I mean, that’s a butt-ton of water, y’all. Yes, I can count other drinks as my fluid intake, but I JUST DON’T FEEL LIKE DRINKING.
Unless it’s a beer. Because I really super want one of those right now. I sipped one of Jethro’s crappy Coors Lights and it was like ambrosia dripping from the petals of a flower held by an angel.
Hell, if I’d had a Paulaner Hefe, my face might have exploded.
Second, I’m irritated with my belly. I blew right past baby bump and went straight into baby GUT. Which is cool, means I don’t have to suck in when waddling around anymore, pathetically trying to NOT look like I have a food baby rather than a real baby. The baby gut is mostly hard, but there is definite jiggle. Now, I realize most of the gut is my own organs and that nice layer of fat that I lovingly crafted of bacon cheeseburgers and sushi, but does there have to be JIGGLE? It feels funny. Not gross, just WEIRD. Aren’t pregnant bellies supposed to be all hard? Has Hollywood LIED to me?
Also, my gut has consumed my feet. I think feet are gross in general (Jethro has almost been stabbed many time after sticking his toes on me) so I don’t miss them. But did they have to go away so soon??
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And by covering my feet, this also means my gut sticks out farther than my chest. Where are these amazing pregnancy ta-tas I’m supposed to get??? Why are they not growing in direct proportion to my stomach? I’ve always had a big chest and never once have I lamented their size, until now. I want bazongas that cannot be contained. I want boobies so big that I need a Hooter-Hider even in the privacy of my own home. I want the La Leche League to be knocking on my door, offering me endorsements. WHERE ARE MY GIANT BOOBS?
Third, we have decided to find out the gender, but for completely selfish reasons. I keep referring to Tater as “she,” mostly because I really do feel she’s a girl. This makes Jethro reflexively respond with “he,” because Jethro is scared of girls. He knows that a teeny little girl with giant eyes and curly hair will break him like nobody’s business and he does not want that. He also knows that one day she will have a boyfriend and considering how he feels about any wrong done to his sister, we know he will be possibly looking at future assault charges.
Previously, we thought we’d wait to find out. The ultimate surprise! No gender-molding! No pink onsies OR sports-themed baby tees! We are so progressive! However, because our relationship is built on a mountain of snark and bickering, Jethro and I have decided to find out the sex of the baby at our next appointment at the end of February. JUST TO PROVE EACH OTHER WRONG.
We are terrible people. Me moreso because I am bound and determined to get Jethro to bet on this. Mama needs some Kate Spade.
Finally, I am ambivalent about making the house baby-ready. I’m sure a nesting phase will set in, but right now my nesting consists of me wanting to buy baby stuff very badly. Which doesn’t count because I look for any excuse to buy things. “OMG, IT’S ARBOR DAY? There’s got to be a sale somewhere….” However, Jethro is on a baby-proofing kick. It started with him wanting to add a railing to our stairs. We have the second and third floor of a condo, so we have return stairs that take us up the bedrooms. The bottom set doesn’t have a railing on either side and I made the mistake of joking about tumbling over the side and my ever-cautious husband now has a phobia of dropping the baby off the stairs. I want to tell him that you can drop the baby anywhere and it would be bad, but I don’t think I need to continue to contribute to his neuroses.
It probably won’t happen in the beginning, but eventually I’m going to stop sterilizing the baby’s binky after it falls out and just blow on it to remove the dog hair and pop it back in her mouth.
Jethro’s next pet project is that he thinks we need to replace our living room carpet. We have hardwood floors throughout, with the exception of a teeny square-footage where our TV and couches are. Apparently, this carpet is now “nasty.” This carpet was brand-new when we moved it. It is not pretty because it is brown and boring, but any part of the nasty is completely achieved by us. Does it need to be shampooed? Sure, we have a dog and I craft on it too much. It wouldn’t hurt. But I really don’t plan on serving the baby any of her strained carrots on the carpet, so WHY replace it? And shouldn’t the baby get USED to our brand of “nasty”?
It probably won’t happen in the beginning, but eventually I’m going to stop sterilizing the baby’s binky after it falls out and just blow on it to remove the dog hair and pop it back in her mouth. Because as fussy as we are right now, once we get the hang of this parent thing, we’re going to relax. And then we’re going to realize that we can’t protect Tater from ALL of the gross things in life, so we just need to protect her from the MOST gross. One day, we will find her licking the dog and we can either flip out, or just sigh and rescue poor Maggie. So we might as well start now and just clean the carpet and call it a day.
Because if this child is anything like me as a child, she is going to do enough damage that we will HAVE to replace the carpet before we move.
So, yeah. Bad Mama already. And I’m trying to be a little better. I’ll drink more water, stop glaring at my stomach as it jiggles as I walk upstairs and let Jethro plan on saving the Tater’s life before she even has her first breath. (PLAN, not actually do. I’m not endorsing the crazy.)
But don’t hold it against me if I count a Cherry Coke as part of my water intake. I got up to pee three times last night, Mama is TIRED.
I think my husband nested more than I did when I was pregnant. Only his nesting involved more power tools. But we got new hardwood floors out of it.
“we can’t protect Tater from ALL of the gross things in life, so we just need to protect her from the MOST gross.”
This is basically my perspective. My husband is a total germaphobe, so when he’s around and Teo throws an entire tray of food on the floor, I sigh and throw it away, but if he’s not I totally blow on anything non-sticky and give it right back to him.
Also – try not to sweat the dog hair. You won’t realize how very much is on your floor until Tater starts crawling. And then it will terrify you. (Teo army crawled, dragging his whole body across the floor, and would be wearing a legit dog-hair sweater when we picked him up.) My folks had pets when I was little, and when I asked my dad what to do, he said “Just use a lint brush when they’re done. None of you had allergies and you were rarely sick, so I’m pretty sure it helped your immune systems.”
Yup. And just wait, you might think licking the dog is the worse thing your kid can do, but wait until you go to a petting zoo. And they kiss a goat. On the ass. …yeah, at least you know when the last time your dog had a bath. I don’t think that goat had any idea what soap was. Makes for a great story to tell future boyfriends though!
wait until they kiss a goat…on the ass… LOLOLOLOL
I just loled like twenty times. Coffee almost came out of my nose. It was great.
“One day, we will find her licking the dog and we can either flip out, or just sigh and rescue poor Maggie.”
That is my son. He copies our little tiny dog like nothing else and the other day he was trying to eat his cereal out of the dog bowl, which Merlin was not thrilled about, but he just kind of sat there watching in horror as the little man drooled all over his precious dog food. I thought I would die laughing and then I was like ‘oh right, germs crap’ and tried to stop it. (Note: tried.)
I was raised in the American South, home of bugs galore, especially in the humid, hot, summer. When he was maybe a year old, my brother was crawling around and, of all things, picked up a bug and ate it. My dad was HORRIFIED, completely freaked out. He may have even said something about dysentery and intestinal something-or-other (biology teacher). Now that brother is the strongest and healthiest of the four of us. Go figure.
Bwhahaha, great post! I’m only 9 weeks today and the tone in this post is the exact tone of the voice that’s been running through my head the last couple weeks. I’m only 9 weeks and I busted the zipper on my jeans and had to buy maternity jeans. WTF?!?! My boobs, which were already the size of the Appalachians have now grown to the size of the Rockies and what the hell am I going to do with these boulders when the reach Himalaya status?! My protein intake is for shit and all I want all the time is pizza and bagels with cream cheese. And pickles. And dear God is the constipation a punishment for something I did in a past life? Or is it my body’s way of teaching me how to bear down?! I feel your pain. If you’re a bad momma now, then so am I girl but as long as we don’t stress about stuff too much, I think we’ll both be great mommas when the time comes. Good luck with the rest of your pregnancy!
If you substitute the constipation with not drinking enough water, I could have written this comment myself. I turned 10 weeks yesterday and I’ve been in maternity jeans for a week and a half now. But then when the slightest pressure of the home doppler makes my “baby” belly sink 3 inches I get super depressed… Why is it soooo soft, yet soooo big?
Ha! Great post! I’m not pregnant, but I started drinking more water and now my co-workers probably think I have a bladder problem because I run across the hall so often!
Drink your water. Seriously. Because if you don’t you’ll get all dehydrated and your FEET WILL SWELL. You would think it’d be the opposite, but I wasn’t getting enough and now at almost 35 weeks I have to wear old-lady compression socks and drink WAY more than I ever thought possible. Ice and straws help. But now I wish I had just forced it down. bleh.
I’m kind of in live with the author if this post. I’m pregnant with our second child, thought all of those thoughts with our first and NOTHING has changed my views about Dos. If anything I’m worse now. Thanks for the post and cheers to us “horrible” moms.
At some point during pregnancy (I think right around 17 or 18 weeks, actually) I made a list of all the things you’re not supposed to eat or do during pregnancy. It was really long and completely absurd and made me feel better about completely tossing the whole thing and eating the nigiri I was craving.
Anyway, none of these things make you a bad mama. Also the things you will do when the baby is actually here will not make you a bad mama. (Get them on a sleeping schedule! Never wake a sleeping baby! Don’t let them sleep on their tummy! Make sure they get enough tummy time! Foster attachment! Foster independence!) You can’t win, seriously. Might as well stop the guilt trip now. 😉
At 15 weeks, this is exactly the kind of post I want to be reading. Thank you for expressing all the ridiculous feelings I’m having.
ESPECIALLY THE STUPID ACRONYMS. We’re not tweeting – there’s no character limit. Why is typing “DS” so much better than just “son”?!
THANK YOU!! Thank you for writing this. I have felt this way the whole time (now 28 weeks) and I am going mad with all the moms who are like aww…and yay and stuff about stuff that I just do not get.
I jiggle…my boobs are the same size…my house is meh… I am not stressing about the baby stuff in general.
So YAY for you. Feel the way you feel…put it out there and thank you for making me laugh and feel a bit more “normal”. ^_^
Yay Alyssa!! So pysched to see you on offbeat mama!
I saw this and was like – hey, I read this already. But the date is yesterday, huh?! And then I *realized!!* SO, yay!
Alyssa here, thank you guys SO much for all the kind comments!! It’s so fun to see so many people in the same boat…which is why we’re on Offbeat Mama in the first place, huh?
And just an update…I lost the bet. My darling little girl baby has a wee willie winkie. Which I’m not sad about, I just hate being wrong. 🙂 But thank you again, I want to print out all these lovely comments and roll around in them like a puppy!
I totally wanted a boy, so when we found out it was a girl I was like bummed for a minute. Then I realized you can teach a girl everything you can teach a boy AND make her wear ridiculously cute things AND cute boy things. 🙂 good luck with the rest of your pregnancy, it’s seriously going to fly by
Yep, we had a girl and she wears pink flowers sometimes and glow-in-the-dark dinosaurs and rocket ships other times. She likes planes (her daddy is a pilot so this is non-negotiable regardless of gender!) and she likes faeries. Not everything has to be “given up” because you have a girl or because you have a boy!
I personally just had my first daughter 4 months ago and when pregnant I followed my own rules I abstained from foods like sushi, and nitrates. I did drink my fair share of soda, and I was able to drink decaff. and I am a coffee junkie normally. I drank water as needed and eventually I think about 30 weeks it is all I wanted anyways so I know the baby was fine. I walked a lot a few miles a day. The one misstep I did was I craved brie cheese so bad and I did eat a wedge every few months of my pregnancy. She is a healthy baby who weighed 8 lbs 1 oz. Just take your vitamins don’t go too crazy and everything will be fine, and no matter how much you think you are ready you aren’t it is all on the job training my do buy list is simple…A bassinet or a pack n play skip a crib they are worthless my baby has yet to use hers, sleepers with zippers not snaps at 3 am you will understand, plenty of NB and size 1 diapers, if you are breast feeding rent a hospital pump they rock for helping your supply come in and to have extra on hand so you can have a break sometimes, cheap bottles by Gerber and in case of emergency formula trust me my milk took 10 days to come in without it my little one would have starved to death, a swing where they can lay down this helped me sooth her in the middle of the night so I could get a few minutes of shut eye, a good new car seat, and some type of carrier I love Kozycarrier, some people have preference to other brands. Good Luck and chill out it is fun once you stop stressing 😛
This is exactly how I picture my husband and I parenting when we get there. Specifically the fining out the gender to prove each other wrong. Also, xkcd is the best.
haha I felt like all this with a side of ‘STOP TOUCHING MY BELLY RANDOM PEOPLE I DONT KNOW’ It’s worse after you have them, if I let my son put his pants on backwards one more time my mother’s head might just spin right off of her body.
Okay, I laughed out loud several times whilst reading this (and the comments!) I’m also about 18 weeks, just finally starting to look pregnant instead of just fat, and feel ya on just about every single point. And even though my Japanese sister-in-law laughed uproariously at me when I mentioned American doctors recommend against sushi while pregnant, I still felt a little guilty for the absolutely delicious sushi dinner I had while I was in Seattle last month… But only a little. 😉
hahah. I’m not expecting, but I loved this.
I can totally see myself being the exact same way once I am pregnant.
I also happen to work for a carpet cleaning company. We’d tell you, yeah. Clean that carpet before the baby comes. But really. Clean the carpet once the baby starts crawling.
Actually, I wholly endorse ripping that carpet up. Carpet is a sponge. A nasty, nasty sponge.
I caught the baby with the dog’s bone in his mouth tonight for the first time. My friend told me today that her niece ate a live bug this weekend. Not sure which is worse!
Ah, yes, I so feel you. I hit 34 weeks today, and I’ve been very bad. My HMO actually told me to not even have non-alcoholic beer (since it contains the horrifying 0.5% alcohol), which I had already done the math on, and my 12lb cat could drink 2 NA beers and still legally operate a motor vehicle. In the same breath told me no sushi because of mercury but 1 can of tuna a week was okay. While I understand there is an increased risk of illness due to the raw fish, I’ve never known anyone to actually get sick from sushi, so I’ve skipped the canned tuna and hit the sushi bar a couple of time. And had a light beer one of those times. 3.5% of baby poisoning alcohol! While I would kill for a 7+% IPA, any alcohol has been very moderate and only one serving, and no hard alcohol. The best thing you can do for the baby is to not be stressed out, and enjoying yourself is a sure fire way to relieve stress. So really, you are being a good mom.
I feel like you are my cyberspaced momma twin. I enjoyed every second of laughing out loud in my office with all the ladies standing behind me reading this… 🙂
*sigh* I jiggled, also. But around 7-8 months it got really super-hard and there was no longer any extra skin to create a jiggle. Towards the end I went from a AA to a DD… Maybe your moobies will grow in in a little while. Keep going, lady! You’re not a bad mommy. You’re normal. ^_^
I absolutely love this article! I am in the second tri (no, I won’t say it in weeks. Why do people ask that? They judge you!! My male coworker tells me every time he sees me – oh your belly is getting bigger! Hey pal, would you like a vasectomy performed with a swift kick to the nards from my very big foot? I have a boy and a girl, and my husband of 1 1/2yrs has no biological children or any experience with a pregnant woman (smells are offensive, and if I smell a sulfur like green cloud fume waft by, and I ask if that is your breath or a fart, GO BRUSH YOUR TEETH!! AND DON’T GO OFF IN A HISSY LITTLE HUFF!! That stank a$& breath has literally made me vomit!) My husband thinks that “WE” will be finding out the baby’s sex in four days, but the reality is only HE will. I cannot say when, how, or what devilish gremlin possessed me when I concocted this plan, but I can say the more I think about it, the better it makes me feel. My husband gossips more about me, or something I have specifically said ‘do not tell anyone this…’ than a drunken woman in the bathroom of a local bar. It is his nature to do the direct opposite (whether consciously or subconsciously) of what I ask so much so that I have noticed he has some nervous ticks when I observe him trying to not do the very thing that makes me deathly dankly evil (I.e. chewing noisy food with his mouth open, hitting the brakes harder and more frequently than my mother, making weird mouth noises like a bovine masticating it’s cud – yet no food in sight!, ect). This is going to drive him nuts! He won’t be able to tell anyone for fear they will tell me, and also I will remind him that until this thing comes out, this is tied in with my health and he better not be discussing the matters of my uterus with anyone!! I also do not want to know because I do not want any baby related gifts. I do not want a baby shower, donate that money to charity folks! Take that two hours where y’all get to drink wine and vodka and I have to sneak mine because duh! The bartender would know I was The Pregnant One. I will not be paraded in front of skinny friends and family like some side show freak to be mentally measured, weighed, and all topics being the ones I like to avoid… Are you going to breast feed? No, I was thinking elbow feed. Are you having it natural? Um, excuse me ma’am, could you please not be concerned with my, yes MY lest ye forget, vagina and it’s threshold for pain!! As it is, I am suffering through an orgy of fun greatness such as a sinus infection, ear infection, and a constant cough. When I called to get a doctor’s appointment, the receptionist asked if it was a dry cough or a wet one. I wasn’t thinking. Clearly I did not feel well. My response? “A wet one ma’am, every time I cough, I pee a little.” I am very sure I am fodder for many an after work happy hour coworker conversation. I bring light to their world. I think that in my head after every knuckle headed nincompoop bits of tomfoolery I manage to accomplish on every single visit.
Hey 64 ounces of water is only 4 pint glasses a day. Much more manageable and in your favorite beer cup. 😉