Belly Laughs_ The Naked Truth About Pregnancy and Childbirth - Jenny McCarthy [21]
And here’s another good piece of advice: DO NOT watch the news. Hearing about the destruction of our world does not make a woman bringing a child into it very happy. I cried without provocation. The nightly news just added fuel to the fire. Oh, and those damn baby shows. The sweet ones are good to watch (then the tears are tears of happiness), but I seemed to constantly get sucked into the ones about preemie babies needing emergency surgery. My husband would walk into the room and see my big pregnant body sobbing in front of the television and would force me to change the channel. Hard as it was to leave those little ones on the operating table, I’m grateful he yanked me out of my movie-of-the-week-induced downward spiral.
Sometimes you have no idea why you’re crying. I remember sitting on the sofa watching a piece of lint roll by and I burst into tears. My husband kept asking me what was wrong, and I remember trying to think of why I was crying, but there wasn’t a reason. Crying for no reason just didn’t compute for him, so finally I would just make up something, as in, “I’m crying because you forgot to take the garbage out.” A little cruel, sure. But a reason is something a man can get his head around. Offer him a reason and you get a twofer: You will get your husband off your back, and as in my case, it’ll ensure that the garbage gets taken out.
So, Anyway, Like I Was Saying . . . Wait, What Was I Saying?
(Wandering Mind)
Have you experienced the “pregnancy stupids” yet? If not, believe what I say and what all the books say: It’s real, it’s wild, and you, too, will soon become an airhead. That’s all I needed. Most people already think I’ve got a screw loose. And they think I’ve got the dumb blond thing down pat. But nothing holds a candle to the pregnancy stupids.
As I was driving in my car one glorious afternoon, I started to think about when my own mind would start to wander, when and where I would be when I’d begin to forget. It was at that point I realized I didn’t need to wonder anymore. I had just passed my house by a mile and a half. How airheaded could I be? I was just driving aimlessly in thought . . . about forgetting. I couldn’t believe it. A little embarrassed, a little mystified, I just giggled and figured that was as bad as things would get.
Well, by golly, I lost more brain cells every day. I couldn’t remember phone numbers; I’d stand in grocery store aisles scratching my head over what I had come to buy; I’d lose my train of thought mid-conversation; once I even left my dogs at the groomer for a couple of days before I figured out they weren’t simply out for a really long walk. Annoying as this clearly was, I would forget about my frustration as quickly as it popped in my head.
The flip side of losing thoughts is losing yourself in thought. Whether one of my daydreams was about playing with the baby or decorating the nursery or even about the physics of squeezing something the size of a watermelon out of my vagina, I would get sucked into my thoughts for hours. Colossal wastes of time, perhaps, but I found the daydreaming to be soothing. So remember to enjoy those daydreams and not to worry too much about being a forgetful idiot . . . that is, if you even remember this by tomorrow. In fact, you’ll probably read this section over, not even remembering you read it. You airhead!
Mirror, Mirror on the Wall, Who’s the Prettiest Pregnant Lady of Them All? Clearly Not You, Lady!
(Face Acne and Rashes)
Even women blessed from birth with flawless skin can have a hell of a time with breakouts when they’re pregnant. My skin has always been a problem, so I knew I was in trouble. Add to my genetic predisposition the fact that I quit smoking the second I found out I was pregnant. The combination of lack of nicotine and hormonal surges made me look like someone in a bad teenage horror flick.
Not yet understandably afraid of specialists (see page