Pregnancy Is Slightly Uncomfortable But Very Annoying

Most people just think I'm a fat person and nobody can tell I'm pregnant. The salesclerk at the maternity store where I hate all the clothes says it's because I'm "carrying small."

I'd always assumed I could eat to my heart's content, but literally everything gives me indigestion--even a banana.

I'm slow, I waddle and I'm gassy. I had a little panic attack last night sitting in a performance hall on a wooden seat wondering if I was accidentally going to fart, which would then reverberate throughout the room and be humiliating. Luckily, it was the symphony and therefore exclusively full of really old people, most of whom would probably think they did it if I tried to make one of them my fart patsy.

Maternity clothes are ridiculously awful and I almost universally hate them. What is this? Pregnant teen hanging out at the skatepark look?

But more importantly, what the hell is this?

That's a nursing bra, why does she look like that? What is she implying here? Is this just a ploy to get men to find it acceptable when mothers breastfeed in public? I'm too embarrassed to type out all of the potential captions for this picture that I thought of - which is saying a lot in the same post in which I used the term "fart patsy."

The market for goods to make pregnancy more bearable is really remarkable. I have a special belt that makes me look like a fat teamster - or a wrestler - to help with back and round ligament pain - check it out - don't I look ready to Ruuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmmmbbbbbbblllllllllllllleeeeeee?

I would wrestle you, but I'm slow and breathless and it wouldn't be much of a competition because I hate to lose, so I'd probably bring a crowbar and hit you with it and what's the fun in that? For you, I mean.

I haven't been freaking out and emotional on a day to day basis - although I guess you'd have to ask my husband if that's accurate. There have been unreasonable meltdowny moments and it's almost always about food. When he casually mentioned one afternoon that we were almost out of pudding cups, I yelled "WHY? WHY ARE YOU EATING MY PUDDING CUPS?" and then I screamed - literally screamed in rage, when I thought a restaurant forgot to put bacon on my barbecue cheddar burger. I was at home, laying in bed, where I planned to eat the burger, and my husband had just picked it up from the restaurant, but when I stuck my finger in, I couldn't feel any bacon and I was overcome with a brief fit of rage. Then I felt the bacon and everything was fine.

I am much more likely to have an unreasonable bout of tears--like recently when he was on an airplane and I got into the car shortly after he took off and the song "Africa" by Toto came on, which happens to be his favorite song, and I was convinced it was a message from beyond the grave because his plane had crashed and so I cried myself all the way to Taco Bell. He was fine, so was the plane.

I'm in my third trimester and I feel like it's probably time to start googling how to take care of this thing when it gets here. It's a boy and when I told my friends, one of them said it was weird to think that a tiny penis was growing inside me. Just like high school, I guess.