There are many wonderful, happy things about pregnancy. The loving anticipation of your baby. The new, special bond that develops with your spouse as you discuss your dreams, fears, goals, and aspirations for the baby. Picking out darling onesies and baby blankets. The outpouring of congratulations and love from family and friends.
And then there is the ugly side of pregnancy.
The watching all your friends get tipsy and have fun in Las Vegas while you enjoy a crazy sugar high because you just had three shirley temples. The trying to get dressed for work in the morning, desperately attempting to look professional, and leaving the house looking like a whale stuffed in a suit. The long, long list of things you can't eat or drink which happens to be all the stuff you love. The exhaustion, the headaches, the queasiness.
And there there is the really ugly side of pregnancy. The stretch marks. Pregnancy is supposed to be lovely and joyful. Let me tell you, there ain't nuthin lovely and joyful about a stretch mark. They are gross, plain and simple. And I just noticed my first one. I did not have a single one until today at 24 weeks and 3 days. I thought I was lucky. I thought I was special. I thought I was going to escape them. I was wrong, so very wrong. There they are, on my stomach, mocking me. They are saying, "go ahead and throw away your bikinis, welcome to wearing dowdy one pieces for the rest of your life." I immediately rubbed tummy oil on them to shut them up. We'll see if it works.
Although there are definite downsides to pregnancy, there is always this:
This is Brady as a little baby, how cute are those chubby cheeks?!
At the end of the roller coaster of your pregnancy is your wonderful, little baby. And that makes it all worth it. So Baby Brady, I will endure the rapidly expanding waistline, the lack of wine, and the stretch marks all because you are so absolutely worth it. But know that when you misbehave, I will be the one screaming "do you know what I went through for 9 months for you!?!"