I’m not one of those people who’s known they’ve wanted kids from an early age.
While my sister has had the names of her future children picked out from when she was about four years old and was pretty happy shoving dolls around in toy prams, I was the polar opposite and practically hid under my desk in the office in horror when someone rocked up to show off their wriggly little bundle of joy.
So I was fairly surprised to discover that I quite liked being pregnant. Obviously, I’m not claiming it was all sunbeams and fucking rainbows, but aside from the obvious bit of growing a human being, there was some stuff that was sodding amazing.
In no particular order, they are:
Oh my fucking god. I bought four of the damn things.
A huge u-shaped thing which I loved, but my other half wasn’t quite so keen on, since it took up about three-quarters of our bed. The thing was almost as tall as I am and curled around me like a giant hug, supporting my head, back, knees and boobs all in one go. Possibly the most comfortable I have ever been in my whole life, and I can’t recommend them enough.
A nursing pillow – I bought this for back support and for breast feeding, but while I was pregnant I used to wedge it under my huge-ass bump for a bit of support at night. Sadly, because I’m cheap, I bought a really cheap one, and it didn’t take long for the foam to sort of…deflate, turning it into an oversized, prettily-covered-but-utterly-useless boomerang.
A bedge – Looked like a large wedge of cheese, but covered in fabric instead of my face (I love cheese.) This doubled up pretty usefully for back support and sticking under my bump when I became roughly the size of a hippo in the later stages of my pregnancy.
Dreambelt – I was never entirely sure about this one. It was pretty expensive, but I was lucky enough to grab on on eBay for about half-price. It’s designed by midwives for preggos, and I picked it up because I was tired of having to dick about swapping the side I’d but my bedge on 800 times a night.
The thing only comes in one size and it was WAY too big for me, even at 9 months. I get that you’re not exactly at your hottest at 9 months pregnant, but it made me look ridiculous – I had these weird flashbacks of being a skinny six-year-old with a rubber ring around my waist.
Not having to empty out the cat litter
Hands down, the best thing about being pregnant is not having to shovel cat shit out of a litter tray.
Course it’s a bit of a double-edged poop-scoop this one.
Once the sprog has broken out, not only do you have to go back to cleaning up after Mistress Kittypants, you’ve also got the improbable amount of turds that a small human being can generate to contend with.
Spoiler alert: Kid poop is way worse than cat shit.
Doing pretty much no housework
Definitely my favourite bit of being pregnant. By the end I was so big I couldn’t bend down, lift anything or…you know, do much more than waddle from the sofa to the toilet 19,000 times an hour.
As annoying as the pee thing was, not having to half-heartedly push the hoover around, mow the lawn or empty the dishwasher was pretty fucking epic.
Oh shit. I should have put this one first. You’re gonna think I’m a bad mother.
But this is an obvious one and it should go without saying. When junior starts moving – fuck me, is that ever amazing?
Was it something I ate, or a tiny person exploring my insides? My daughter appeared to take up kickboxing while in utero, but each kick, punch and hiccup was a (fucking painful) gift that made me grin like a dick.
People being nice to you
Soon as people find out you’re up the duff, it’s like you suddenly become a celebrity. You’re ushered to the front of queues, offered seats, doors are held open for you, you get the best chairs, the first choice of food and nothing is too much trouble.
Being told to take naps
If you even try to get up off your ass to do something, you’re told you should be resting and to sit back down again.
Being given a license to snooze fucking rocks.
There’s a reason people live and die in them during pregnancy. Those things are really bloody comfortable. Super-soft and I delayed buying mine, and then made up for it by buying about 14 pairs and wearing them to death.
And other clothes
One of things I was most scared of when I found out I was pregnant was getting huge, but as my bump rose like an empire and all my clothes stopped fitting, I got to buy a tonne of new clothes. Most of which can be re-purposed into my usual wardrobe. Hurray!
Being able to shove whatever you want in your mouth
As long as you’re not boozing or shooting up, there’s pretty much no judgement when you’re pregnant.
If you want to eat an entire cake for breakfast, you can bet your ass no-one is going to say a damn thing about it – except maybe ask if you want ice cream to go with it. (The correct answer is yes.)