p r e g g o

p r e g g o


Third trimester and my body feels like it has been put together slightly wrong. I am a jigsaw puzzle with a foreign piece tacked on.

Patches of old skin wrap my new body like ill-fitting cloth that I desperately want to peel off and fling away. Like a underwire bra want to be free of.




Pregnancy is the mother of all mind games,

a challenge of spirit

and of sanity.

I don’t know how many times a day I have to swallow my hormones (along with the reflux) and not loose my sh*t at the people I love / my house plants / my barking dogs / idiot drivers / prams that won’t open / empty milk cartons / clothes that used to fit but now make me look like an awkward Cadbury egg


I used to be invisible.


If was having a bad day I didn’t have to work hard to hide it.

I could eat things, do things without strangers uttering a word. Better still, I was ignored!

But now my belly is a conversation starter, and they gesture towards it as if IT initiated the conversation.

Like when I am in the line at Kmart prying a stolen chocolate out of my kid’s sticky little grasp, while pushing a pram one handed and absolutely bursting to pee and someone says:

“By the looks of that bump you’ll have your hands full VERY soon.”


Or when I am walking on puffy feet to the car park dragging a whinging, over tired toddler:

“Oh, that’s a very ripe belly! When are you due? Do you know what you’re having?”


But it’s fiiiiiiine because I am pregnant therefor it’s okay for people want to know all kinds of things about me, a person they don’t know and the baby they’ll never meet.

I find that so weird, the trust of strangers. I could be a complete and utter weirdo but they wont suspect it because I am pregnant and therefor trust worthy, nice and good.



For me, it is daily tug-o-war between wishing it was over and feeling immense guilt because some babies come too early or never at all.

And that makes it hard.


Pregnancy is a wonderful,


miracle of a thing

but it’s also

really challenging,


and hard work.


Now, pass me the Gaviscon and let’s have a nap

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