List of Grievances

I love being pregnant. Truly, I do. I whine about my achy breaky back and the love handles that seem to be popping up on my face to a few select people, but for the most part, I'm quite content as a mother-to-be. Every day that passes brings me closer to my daughter in an emotional and literal sense. I wouldn't trade a minute of it.

That being said, I have a few issues that I would like to address. These are my least favorite things about pregnancy in no particular order:

1. The needles.
When I was 17, I got grounded for a whole month. For no real reason, I decided piercing my own ears would be a fun way to pass the time. Mind you, they were already double-pierced, but I took it to a level that made me look like someone had taken a Bedazzler to the sides of my face. In short, needles don't normally bother me.

For whatever reason, however, I have fretted every single time a needle has touched me during my pregnancy. I hate having my blood drawn (possibly because the vein they always choose to stick me in first appears to be a dud and will not yield blood no matter how much deeper into my skin they shove the needle).

Getting shots has never bothered me. Ever. I will sit there with a calm look on my face and watch the whole thing as the nurse sticks me with whatever solution I need at the time. Until today, though, every shot I've received was in my arm. When I found out that I am Rh negative this afternoon, the physician informed me that the problem could be solved with one shot... in the hiney. I don't think I need to give a full run-down of my experience, but my right butt cheek is killing me as I type this.

2. Heartburn
Never in my life have I been a sufferer of heartburn. I think I was pushing 20 years old when I first learned that it's actually a problem with one's stomach, not the ticker. I never battled indigestion before, and the only time I can recall acid reflux was when I ate way too many barbeque chips after school one day.

These days, heartburn is almost as predictable as making 30 or more trips to the ladies room every day. If you are anything like I used to be and you don't get heartburn, let me sum it up for you: It hurts. Often, when someone notices my contorted face as I grip my chest in frustration, they tell me that heartburn means my baby will have lots of hair, which brings me to item number three...

3. Wives' Tales
If heartburn is an indication of how much hair my baby will have, then someone better be standing there with an electric razor when she comes out. Yes, she probably will have hair; I'm not carrying a naked mole rat. The truth is that most women experience heartburn during pregnancy, so when a baby is born with a full head of hair, it's easy to say, "I told you so!"

I subscribe to the theory that the whole "If... then..." concept is bogus when applied to pregnancy. Before I knew I was having a girl, a lot of people thought I would have a boy because I was "carrying low." I'm sorry, but I could have sworn that my uterus was always located in my lower pelvis, not my sternum. Some folks are still surprised that I'm having a girl because my belly apparently sits low. Frankly, I don't think I can really carry low or high. I'm just over five feet tall so my torso is roughly the length of a quality hardcover novel. There's really no room for high or low! If you still don't believe me, I have an ultrasound photo of her little baby girl parts as proof.

4. Sleep difficulties
I remember my first trimester fondly. I didn't have terrible morning sickness, but I'm pretty sure I had a temporary case of narcolepsy. I could fall asleep just about anywhere and without any warning whatsoever. Now, in my third trimester, falling asleep is a chore I dread more than vacuuming the floorboards of my car or plucking my eyebrows.

For one, I overheat like it's my job, but I feel most comfortable with the sheets pulled up to my chin. In turn, I need a fan or nearby air conditioner on while I sleep, a pain for anyone operating on a normal temperature trying to sleep in the room. Much to my chagrin, I can only sleep in two positions- left side or right side. Back in the day when my midsection was flat, I slept on my stomach every single night, face smooshed into the pillow and limbs extended like a starfish. That comfort disappeared about four months ago.

I'm convinced that the limited options for sleep positions are a biological teaching tool that forces pregnant women to sympathize with their unborn babies, who are also limited with regard to positioning. If my daughter tried to starfish in there, I think my ribs would crack. Well played, little one.


You may be thinking that I have no real reason to complain. I'm carrying a healthy baby that I will deliver in a sterile hospital environment and bring home to a lovely crib with polka dot sheets. Fair enough. My goal here was not to extract sympathy, but to point out that no matter how much I love my baby, impending motherhood brings with it some pains in the ass. I would know- I've got a Band-Aid on mine.