Pregnancy does not sit with me well. I have moments of bliss when I'm looking at my belly moving and I catch myself dreaming of what this little person will be like. But, the majority of the time it consists of me whinging. I'll whinge about my hormones, how tired I am, how I can't reach the steering wheel or my feet.
But the clear winner of my constant complaining is that horrible first trimester. I despise those first 12 weeks of creating life. Yes, I suppose it's in those weeks that I get to find out I'm pregnant and tell some close family and friends and that is amazing, exciting and wonderful - That is until my head enters the toilet and doesn't come out for three months.
Here are 6 reasons I hate about the first trimester:
1. Hiding my pregnancy.
I hate keeping my pregnancy a secret. I certainly tell those closest to me that would support me through a miscarriage or any other complication that comes in those first vulnerable weeks. But the vast majority of people and in the land of social media, I will wait those agonising first 12 weeks before I broadcast it. What I hate are the lies that come with this secret. When people are asking me why I feel so terrible it becomes a game of deflect and avoid. Or on the other hand, I am winning best actress awards for pretending I feel okay when all I really want to do is crawl into bed and cry.
The sickness that I experience (thankfully only) in the first trimester is debilitating. My sleep is disrupted by bouts of vomiting. My days are spent chasing around my two toddlers and sitting for dizzy spells.
That first trimester was hard for all of my children, but this one - number 3 - is dreadful. I don't have the luxury of sitting for moments and resting. I have swimming lessons, dance lessons and antenatal appointments to name a handful of commitments.
Life doesn't stop. It just gets a hell of a lot harder.
3. Nothing fits.
As soon as I fall pregnant, my belly balloons. I don't know if it is fluid or just my inability to suck my stomach in while trying not to vomit – but either way, nothing fits. And with baby number three, consider this issue tripled. I'm breaking out the pregnancy jeans nine weeks in and hoping that no one at work notices.
4. Nothing tastes right.
Certain foods that were staples in my diet can now elicit vomiting just from a single whiff. I open the fridge and God forbid I smell some mince or even raw tomatoes. It's frustrating thinking one day you feel like peanut butter and the next the thought makes you gag.
Nothing tastes like it did before making a person and I never know from day to day what I'm going to be able to stomach.
5. I'm a hormonal wreck.
I've always been a little unstable since having kids. If I see a child get hurt or read a story about a sick baby, you can count me out for a good five minute weeping session.
It becomes all too relatable and sad things like those can make you realise that life is fragile. Add some pregnancy hormones in the mix and I am a complete wreck.
6. The helplessness.
Every day during those first 12 weeks is an effort to exist. I wake up every morning dreading that feeling of sickness that will overcome me as soon as my feet reach the floor. It can feel unbearable.
But then the realisation hits me that if I want to make a person, this is what is involved for me. I look at my two girls and those months of hell are a distant memory. I know, more than anything, it is worth it.
I just have to drag myself through these few months with the thought of meeting this little creature at the end keeping me strong.