“If you look at your son’s nipples and there’s no line through them you’re going to have a baby boy.” Wrong. I’ve double checked Tiny Boss’ nipples – still no lines, but I’m going to go with the ultrasound tech on this one.
“If your husband is getting fatter during your pregnancy, you’re going to have a girl.” No comment. But I don’t think he’s getting fatter. I mean, less skinny.
Out of all the pregnancy superstitions that I’ve heard regarding having a baby girl, here’s the only one that seems true: a baby girl steals her mother’s beauty.
Because lately I’ve been feeling utterly … blah. All those ridiculously cheerful pregnancy websites are totally wrong. BabyCenter has this hilarious article – from which I quote, “Believe it or not, your guy may be loving your new physique. Men tend to see the sensuality in blossoming breasts and soft curves. Plus, the sight of your pregnant form is a constant reminder of his virility.”
Pretty sure the sight of my “pregnant form” to my husband is less a constant reminder of his virility and more of the inevitable upcoming sleep deprivation.
As for me, I don’t feel sexier because of my new bustline or my hormones. My hormones generally make me feel angry, turned on, or like eating chocolate covered gummy bears, sometimes all at the same time.
The growing bustline might have made me feel sexy, except for the fact that my nipples seem to be in some sort of growth competition with my boobs and everything below my boobs is growing at a similar rate, if not faster.
The full head of hair? I cut my hair early on in pregnancy. At first I loved the ease and not going to bed with a head full of wet hair (ain’t nobody got time for a blow dryer), but now the added fullness is making me feel like Dora the Explorer.
And forget the alleged glow – my skin actually gets worse during pregnancy – I get bumps on the back of my arms, and super dry skin everywhere else. I also kind of look like Neapolitan ice cream, with my sunburned shoulders, pale midsection (I am not wearing a bikini pregnant) and tan legs from dragging Tiny Boss to water parks and beaches on my days off. Mmm, ice cream . . .
And my maternity clothes. Sigh. Can someone please tell Motherhood to stop making so many flower prints? I see them all over my maternity underwear and tops. They’re not sexy, unless you’re really into the Anne of Green Gables look. And yes, I know there are lots of nice maternity clothes, and even some sexy f*nighties, but I really don’t feel like spending five billion dollars on clothes I’ll wear for less than a year.
So what’s the plan to get my groove back? Well, tattoos and piercings are out of the question (they’re off limits during pregnancy due to the risk of disease) and I already colored my hair, something I avoided for almost two years due to my first pregnancy and breastfeeding. I think I’ll go thrifting tomorrow. Maybe I’ll find some awesome, ginormous, non-flowery, vintage print t-shirts that I can wear for the next three months. But don’t worry, I won’t be buying any secondhand f*nighties!