By Danielle Gambino
I can feel the light creeping in through the blinds. Please no. Not yet. My head is throbbing. I am starving. No… nauseous. No… starving. I can’t decide. I try to turn over but I cannot move. I am frozen in place. My arms feel dead. Pins and needles. I struggle to shake them. I squeeze my eyes shut tight. I can do this. I can roll over. On the mental count of 3, I heave my body over to lay on my other side. My arms…they must have fallen off. I can no longer feel them. They are gone. I have to pee. Right now. All of a sudden. If I don’t move quick, I will pee in the bed. No question. I jump up. I see black. Dizzy, so dizzy. I grab the nightstand and struggle to find balance. I move as quickly as my jello legs will take me. I sit on the toilet. I can’t open my eyes. I won’t open my eyes. I have never peed so much in my entire life. All of a sudden it hits me. I am going to throw up. Not just throw up. Projectile vomit. I look at the garbage. Overflowing. I flip over and grab the toilet seat. What did I do last night…what did I drink? Then I remember. I am not hungover. I did not drink. I sat on the couch and ate 3 English muffins slathered in butter and still went to bed hungrier than a prima ballerina before her opening act. I am not hungover. I am pregnant.
Pregnancy is a lot of things. It is the gift of life. It is a miracle. It is exciting…to create a life. To carry that life within your body for nine months. To nuture it. To feel it grow. To create another human being. It is incredible.
It is also horrifying. It is dramatic. It is bizarre. Things happen… strange things. Not nice things. Things you don’t expect. Things no one warns you about. Because if women were warned, the human race would not be growing as quickly. That is a fact.
So while pregnant women like to paint the picture of bliss, I am here to tell you the truth. They are lying. It is flat out B.S. Want the truth? The truth is they are mortified. Embarrassed. Shocked at what they are going through. Even if it’s the 4th time. A pregnant body will do the unthinkable. The unimaginable. I promise. You will surprise yourself.
Pregnant woman aren’t safe from anything. Just the other day I laughed at the doctor’s office so hard I peed on the chair. Awesome. I literally PEED ON THE CHAIR. Which only made me laugh harder. Pee more. See the cycle? I cannot be trusted to wear nice clothes. Be more than 10 feet from a toilet. Hear a funny joke. There is no control.
I will never forget the day I thought I had to fart. Ok, big deal. So you fart, right? Doesn’t matter that you’re in Disney World. Eating dinner. In a crowded place. Everyone farts. Well, little did I know, not everyone farts like a pregnant woman. Tables shook. Plates rattled. People looked over in horror, half expecting to see a water buffalo tearing through the restaurant because there was just no possible way that came from a human. My girlfriends were half stunned, half hysterical. It was at that moment, 7 weeks pregnant with Mini that I realized I wasn’t safe.
That was only at 7 weeks. Let me explain to you what the nine months are like:
Month 1:
You don’t know you’re pregnant yet. And if you do, holy s*** congratulations because you were seriously tracking that.
Month 2:
You find out you are pregnant. You vomit from excitement. You tell your husband and 100 of your closet friends. Make everyone promise not to say a word. Fall asleep. Everywhere. On everything. Hopefully not your steering wheel, but I wouldn’t be surprised. Oh and you announce that you are eating for 2. Every time someone side-eye’s you for grabbing the 5th cookie.
Month 3:
You think of cute ways to announce to the 1143 friends on facebook that you never talk to that you are finally expecting. Yay. No one really cares. They will “like” your status. Stalk your photos. Secretly hate you for gaining less weight, or shake their head in disgust when you start to blow up like a hippo.
