One of the glorious aspects of being pregnant (again) is that I can literally blame EVERYTHING on the little guy inside.
LAME? Sure. But, tell me you have not used the pregnancy card yourself and I will call you a
liar well respected human being.
Let me give you some examples.
- I am cranky, irritated and cry for no reason whatsoever? Blame it on the hormones.
- I am obsessed with food 24/7.Blame it on my ‘pregnancy cravings’. OK, OK you are right. I have always been obsessed with food. I just don’t need to hide it anymore.
- I get easily frustrated with the speed my bump is growing and feel genuinely hurt when I see other people’s shocked expression the moment I tell them that I still have three months to go. Even Yiannis had a similar expression on his face when he came to me the other morning and looked at my belly. I still can’t get the brief conversation we had after that out of my mind.
Me: Look honey, your brother is growing fast.
Yiannis: Yes, I see that.
Me: In a few months time I will have a belly in the size of a watermelon.
Yiannis: But you already do.
Even little miss sunshine gave her little brother a kiss last night, looked at me and said: Mom, will your belly explode??
The thing what scares me is not the actual size of the belly now but HOW something SO oversized will grow back into anything remotely NORMAL once the little guy is out. I know, I know. I will need to exercise. But if you know me, you know how much I hate exercising. Don’t get me wrong. I like exercising but in its disguised form. Like playing tennis, swimming or cycling. I absolutely HATE the gym. PERIOD.
- I wear yoga pants the whole time (except for once or twice a month when I do get out of my house to have my blood tests done and doctors appointments). Which brings me to the next point…
- The need to buy new clothes. This is quite an imaginary one though. As I am still considered high risk, I have not been given more freedom to move around and do something crazy, like drive. So no new fashionable maternity clothes for this pregnant mom. But thanks to my dear friend Iro who was kind enough to bring me her maternity clothes, I can squeeze my watermelon into something that actually fits.
I have missed out on quite a few events of the past three months in my family’s life. And I will miss some more. But that’s OK. After all I have the PERFECT excuse.
Until next time