Pregnancy "Glow": A Huge Lie.

#9.
That moment when you start to suspect that the "pregnancy glow" is a mythical thing made up by people who have never been pregnant. 

My face is breaking out a la 1995, when I was fifteen and my skin care routine consisted of cheap makeup and Stridex pads. My eyes have impossibly dark circles underneath them, making me look like a sunken-eyed mummy just in time for Halloween. My skin is dry and itchy. I cannot color my hair, so my roots are now several inches long -- not a good look.

The LAST thing I feel is "glowing."

Seriously, I think the zits on my face are starting to form constellations....here's a quick shot of the Big Dipper forming on my cheek. See what I mean?

I must not be the only pregnant women to feel less than glowing during the nine months. It makes me suspicious that "You're positively glowing!" is just a default thing people tell pregnant women so they don't end up inadvertently saying something like, "Oh my gosh, you're HUGE!" or "What do you have in there, a watermelon?"

Maybe with a good sugar scrub, I can coax this mythical glow out from the shadows. But for now, I'm spending a fortune on concealer.

An Ode to Caffeine

An Ode to Caffeine

It's Monday again

I'm pregnant and tired

Wanting "real" coffee

To be hopped up and wired.

I stare at the Keurig

It's gathering dust

On a day like today,

A caffeine high is a must.

I want to feel jitters
And that energy burst
Being stuck without coffee
Is simply the worst.

But I'll stick to the decaf

And hot chocolate and cider

While my baby grows healthy

And my belly grows wider!

If I have to wear anything but stretch pants, I'm not going.

#8. 
That moment when you realize that your outfit options for the next six months consist of "stay-at-home" stretchy pants or the similar but slightly less stained and worn "going-out" stretchy pants, each paired with whatever sweatshirt or top will fit over your growing-by-the-second belly and boobs. 

I do own a pair each of maternity jeans and khakis. But as my belly takes over, I find that anything but yoga pants just doesn't cut it. The more stretch, the better. I never thought I'd seriously consider buying a pair of Pajama Jeans, but they're looking pretty good these days.

It's not uncommon that whenever faced with the prospect of going somewhere, my first thought is, "Can I wear stretchy pants there?" If the somewhere in question requires me to put on jeans or...eeek...actual pants....then chances are, I'm not on board.

Cake and Tater Tots

#7. 
That moment when you abandon your good intentions for eating a healthy, well-balanced lunch, and instead find yourself hovering over the kitchen counter, eating tater tots and 4-layer cake with buttercream frosting. 

Here's the thing, though: it's not that I don't understand what is healthy and what is not. I know exactly what I should be eating to nourish myself and baby.

But baby won't let me. What to Expect says I should be eating whole grains, veggies, fruit, 75 grams (!) of protein per day, and plenty of water. But this tiny junk-food addict inside me demands salty, fatty, buttery, sweet food.

Before my pregnancy, I would eat a spinach salad with tomatoes, artichokes, carrots, feta cheese, and sunflower seeds for lunch. Now, the only way I can stomach the idea of eating spinach, or anything green for that matter, is to hide some in a smoothie. I can eat carrots....dipped in ranch dressing. I can eat tomatoes...if they are made into a sauce and put onto a cheesy pizza.

I'm hoping that when the first trimester fades into the second, I'll regain my appetite for foods that have some nutritional value. For now, I'll keep hiding spinach wherever I can, and I'll definitely make my husband take the rest of this layer cake to work with him tomorrow.

Most embarrassing purchase of my life.

#6. 
That moment at Walmart when you realize you're going to have to make the most embarrassing purchase of your entire life. 

Self-checkout lanes, here I come. Really hoping I don't have to buy these items in combination again until at least 2055.

My hands won't work

#5.
That moment when you feel like either a toddler or a 90-year-old with arthritis, because your hands are refusing to form the correct shapes to button buttons, type on a keyboard, and hold a pen....and your handwriting has turned into nonsense scribble.

I think I need Velcro shoes.