I’m not the biggest fan of pregnancy. No wine. Weird insomnia. A serious lack of choice when it comes to clothes (COME ON retailers. Sort it out). But it does have its plus points.
OH. MY. GOD. The first time you put these on you will wonder why the f**k you’ve ever bothered wearing any other type of jean. Maternity jeans are hands down the best thing about being pregnant. Imagine sitting down and then standing up and not having to hoik your jeans up each time. That’s maternity jeans for you. The denim equivalent of a slipper.
I know, for the larger chested amongst us this doesn’t count, but when you’ve always been a B cup and suddenly go to a D cup thanks to getting knocked up, it’s a pretty pleasing benefit. I always wondered what I’d look like with a boob job and now I know. Thanks babies.
Being offered seats during rush hour.
The worst thing about going back to work after mat leave was getting onto a train and realising I could no long expect people to give up their seats for me.
(I know, people don’t always offer their seats, and it seems to be suit-wearing men in particular who like to studiously ignore your heavily pregnant self and stay firmly on their bottom, but for the most part I always found people very kind).
Yes, I missed the wine, but I LOVED waking up the morning after a night out feeling clear-headed. And being able to remember all the embarrassing things people had done the night before, rather than being the one doing the embarrassing things. This probably says more about my drinking habits pre-babies than anything else though…
The first trip to The White Company.
Before you’ve had the baby, and realise that it’s a complete waste of money to buy babies nice clothes, you will go to white company or somewhere similarly beautiful and imagine your precious baby dressed in all their wonderful clothes. You’ll buy a few, thinking £25 seems totally reasonable for a babygro. Then you’ll have the baby, they’ll promptly shit all over said babygro, and you’ll realise that you’re not cut out to be a White Company mum. But the dream is so lovely while it lasts.
How nice everyone is.
As soon as you’re visibly pregnant, all sorts of people will start talking to you. Random people will stop you and ask when you’re due. Strangers will offer their congratulations. I know, sometimes this can be a bit annoying (DON’T TOUCH THE BUMP!), but in the most part I found it lovely that all these people I didn’t know were so excited about my baby!
The possibilities of it all.
I love growing a tiny person, and the cosy vision I have in my head of how parenthood is going to be while I’m pregnant and the reality of having a baby or a second baby hasn’t hit home. I especially loved thinking, smugly, when someone warned me of the sleepless nights, or the ruined foof, or the sibling rivalry, “but mine won’t be like that”.
Oh how the mighty fall… but every so often, when my babies are both behaving themselves and harmony rules our household, I look at both of them and think, nostalgically, that I’d quite like to be pregnant again…
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