I’m Only Happy When it Rains

Apparently, pregnant women are neurotic gluttons for punishment.

So, several of my posts have been complaints about the various side-effects of pregnancy, including nausea and heartburn (and, more recently, acne). While I cannot stress enough how much these symptoms suck, I have a confession to make . . .  I’m only happy when it rains.

On days when I feel reasonably fine, rather than being relieved and taking advantage of my good fortune, I become convinced that something is wrong with the baby and proceed to spend several minutes poking or squeezing my boobs to make sure they are still sore.  I follow this up by standing in front of the mirror and examining them in great detail, convinced they are shrinking back to my pre-pregnancy size.  I even “weigh them” in my hands to try to determine whether they are lighter or heavier than the day before.  I walk in and out of the public restroom in my building to see whether or not my gag reflex gets triggered.  Anyway, you get the picture.

For a while, I thought this made me a total nutcase. Then, I found a website with a discussion board for other women who are expecting in March 2010. And, guess what, we are all total nutcases! I cannot tell you the number of posts each day that deal with distress over disappearing symptoms.  One day, there was even a post in which a woman confessed to poking herself in the chest just to make sure her boobs are still sore; at least a dozen women replied with a hearty “Me too!”

Apparently, pregnant women are neurotic gluttons for punishment.  Our poor husbands.

singing-in-the-rain

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One Response to I’m Only Happy When it Rains

  1. musze says:

    Yes, poor me, indeed… 😉

    Love you!

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