Pregnant ladies get a LOT of advice, and some of it is downright bizarre (like, “Sleep now, while you can” – because I can totally save it up for when the baby is born). I am lucky enough to have a mum, mum-in-law and sister who don’t feel the urge to use my pregnancy as an excuse to complain about their own experiences of motherhood.
Here are the three most encouraging things other people have said to me:
From a mum of three: “One day you’ll just wake up and not be nauseous any more.”
From my doctor: “Here” *passes me a prescription for much stronger meds*
From a new Mum of a six-week old: “Mine was more trouble out than in – but I think yours will be more trouble in than out.”
The third comment came yesterday, and neatly dismissed all they grey-faced tales of, “Ooh, you think THIS is bad. Wait until the baby comes. Your whole life will be RUINED.”
To be honest, though, my life has already been ruined by this child, now I think about it. I can’t enjoy food, sit up, drive, do my job, help around the house, or generally do. . . anything. When the baby comes I’ll lose a whole lot of sleep, but I’ll get a lot of the rest of my life back (if not before Mini-Me emerges – we can still hope this isn’t a nine-month thing). Plus, I get to see and touch him or her – which is worth a LOT of inconvenience.
For now, sleeping is good. I appreciate what I have. Even my pet zombie.