In the spirit of Flashback Friday and 31 Days of Momming My Ass Off, I dug into my google photos to find a pregnancy picture to share. Looking at this, I couldn’t help but think “there’s a few things that woman there should know”, and so I wrote myself a letter. Here it goes:
Dear pregnant me,
It’s Valentine’s day 2014, the day the doctors said your baby would be born.
You prayed to the heart shaped candy gods that they would be wrong; you didn’t want your daughters birthday overshadowed by a hallmark holiday.
Well, your prayers were answered and now you’re kicking yourself.
You would give anything, and everything for her to just be out and be here already. You’re tired, you’re swollen, you don’t feel sexy, your body doesn’t feel like yours anymore. You ask your (future) husband if he’s wearing his contacts every time he tells you how gorgeous you are and you want to choke your midwife every time she says “be patient and rest”.
Oh baby girl, I have some advice for you to heed. I must warn you, it may sound harsh but I promise I mean so well.
First I must say that you are gorgeous. In a year or so you won’t even know why you thought that selfie wasn’t worthy of Instagram, so post it. Your family and friends are dying to see your belly growth. Embrace that glow you have but can’t see, learn to love those tiger stripes you’ve just recently discovered, and capture these moments while you can.
Ok, now for the mean part. Please don’t cry.
Shut the hell up and listen to the doctors, your mother, and the 31 million women who have given you the same unsolicited advice. They know a thing or two about motherhood that you don’t just yet. Your baby will be here in less than 10 days. She will be beautiful, and healthy with all ten fingers and all ten toes. She’ll be so sweet, and at first you’ll luck out because she’ll sleep through the night and things just will seem sooo perfect.
And then she’ll start to grow.
And she’ll grow so more.
She’ll be the tallest out of most babies her age, even reaching the kitchen counter. She’ll touch everything. She’ll break everything. She will want to do everything you do, spend every moment with you, sleep in your bed every night.
She. Will. Drive. You. Crazy.
You will love her so much, that just the sight of her smile will be reward enough for it all.
But. You. Will. Not. Get. A. break.
No days off, not even a sick day, not even a sick second.
So cherish the shit out of these last moments. Appreciate the time that you have left to not worry about another human life. Take a bath by yourself. Enjoy the sanctity of a quiet bathroom. Have uninterrupted sex with your husband.
And most importantly, thank God for food that you don’t have to share.
Ok, my nostalgia is gone. Did I cover all of my bases here? What pregnancy advice did you ignore while pregnant that you wished you hadn’t.