What were your biggest pregnancy surprises and pet peeves?

:-) Honestly, it’s driving me insane—every single day, I'm dealing with women who just want to swoop in and start kissing or touching me.

Right now, there's basically a massive flu and measles outbreak going around Little Rock. And yet, these random women—or people I barely even know—will just coldly try to plant a kiss on me whenever we cross paths. And when I actually speak up and say, "Whoa, hold on, please don't," they just look at me like... "But why??? You're just so sweet! Oh, you're such a gorgeous pregnant girl, oh my gosh!"

What is actually wrong with women? I mean, especially in that age bracket—post-50. The whole city is full of pregnant women, and most of these ladies probably have grandkids by now. I seriously don't get what they're so hyped about.

And of course, the second I set a boundary and make it clear—like, "Don't touch me and I don't want to be kissed"—they treat me like I've got some kind of mental deficiency. They're all like, "Oh, poor little expectant mother. She's making a huge deal out of everything. She's just being dramatic. It's just youth."

Yeah, real great. 🍿 Just stay the hell away from me.

So far, the only person who has managed to get under my skin is my mother-in-law, though "annoyed" feels too mild—she actually left me feeling quite disheartened. She came to visit me once in the last five months, and since her own daughter has already given her two grandkids, she had the audacity to tell me she’d much rather I were carrying a girl. Look, she’s entitled to her own wishes, but there was absolutely no reason to say that to my face. It implies that my son isn't special in any way because he's just her third grandchild, whereas to me, he is everything as my firstborn. I find such a comment to be entirely unnecessary and rude.

Arthur Fisher42 said:So far, the only person who has managed to get under my skin is my mother-in-law, though "annoyed" feels too mild—she actually left me feeling quite disheartened. She came to visit me once in the last five months, and since her own daughter has already given her two grandkids, she had the audacity to tell me she’d much rather I were carrying a girl. Look, she’s entitled to her own wishes, but there was absolutely no reason to say that to my face. It implies that my son isn't special in any way because he's just her third grandchild, whereas to me, he is everything as my firstborn. I find such a comment to be entirely unnecessary and rude.

I know exactly how you feel, though in my case, it's my own mother who acts this way. She got it into her head that we needed a girl, and when the ultrasound technician told us it was a boy, she just pulled this sour face. At the next appointment, when they confirmed it again, she started telling me all these stories about people who thought they were having a boy right up until birth, only to end up with a girl (or vice versa). Every single time, she throws out that little jab: "Well, you never know, maybe it'll be a girl." My mom... I swear, I could just lose it whenever she says stuff like that.🙂

My mother-in-law was also a bit disappointed when she heard it was a boy, but she held her tongue. However, one of our relatives actually said to us—purely to stir the pot—something like, "You know, it used to be that having a boy first was the most important thing, but nowadays everyone seems kind of let down when they hear it's a boy."

To which I replied that I am incredibly happy it's a boy, which left them all looking pretty stunned.

I just don't get people. I really don't. It's like they go out of their way to ruin every good moment they can find. Now, I'm intentionally playing a mental movie where my little kid is going to be the most spoiled brat ever, just to spite them all. 😬

Honestly, I fail to see why people feel the need to comment on things that are completely beyond anyone's control, such as a child's gender. I even told my mother-in-law that I was hoping for a boy, given how many nephews I have and how much I've grown accustomed to them, yet she stubbornly insisted on her own opinion regardless. At the end of the day, I simply don't care what those women wanted!

Honestly, it’s even worse when some distant relative pops up to comment every few years. He seems so obsessed with his own daughter that I suppose his judgment is just completely skewed by that bias. This will be our first child, but we’re hoping to have at least three, maybe four, depending on how things go. Of course, I’d love to have both boys and girls, but frankly, I don't care which one comes first. I truly get the impression that people make these comments out of pure malice; the idea of saying something like that to someone would never even cross my mind. For one thing, why would I care about the gender of someone else's baby? And more importantly, where do they get the right to comment on it at all? I just feel bad that I can never think of a witty enough comeback to actually shame them—I guess it's because I can't wrap my head around why anyone would even say something so rude in the first place.

I figured I’d chime in—I’m usually high-strung, but with this pregnancy, my patience is basically non-existent. It's like being three times as irritable as usual.

First off, the weight gain is driving me insane.😁 It wasn't a massive explosion—I've put on about 26 pounds over 34 weeks—which is slightly more than ideal, but not catastrophic. HOWEVER! I’m naturally thin, and now I feel like a stranger in my own skin; these extra pounds just don't sit right on me. I HAVE A DOUBLE CHIN. Honestly, I feel like punching someone.😁
DOUBLE CHIN!!!!!!!

Beyond that, what really gets under my skin (as I assume it does for most of you here) is how people feel entitled to comment on my size. So what if I am? I’m the one eating the food, not you. My mother is a constant source of irritation—she can't help but call me fat and constantly compare me to my first pregnancy ("You were so thin then, look at you now," etc.). Her absolute peak of nonsense was telling me: "How is that poor baby going to survive with all that extra padding?" 🙂

Then there's my mother-in-law. She used to call me "Fatty" on a regular basis until I gave her a look so sharp she probably felt her carotid artery pulse. Since that moment, she hasn't used the word "fat" directly, but she's mastered the art of the passive-aggressive detour—things like: "Oh, your face has changed so much! You look totally different now!"
YEAH. When you gain 26 pounds, your face changes. YOU GET A DOUBLE CHIN. I'm well aware; trust me, I know...

Work is another headache. I’m finishing up this week before heading out for two weeks of vacation followed by maternity leave, but for the last three months, my colleagues have been acting like I’m a ghost. They wonder why I'm not doing more, why I'm not at home, blah blah blah... But the second I mention my upcoming departure, the waterworks start. The mourning, the drama, the "ohhh, how will we possibly manage without you?" and "there's going to be so much work once you're gone!" It's exhausting. Just let me leave. As for how *they* will handle it... who cares?
They need to decide if they want me there or not—not that I should even bring it up and trigger their guilt trips. Honestly, I couldn't care less how they cope without me.

What's particularly grating is how certain people treat me like I've lost all cognitive function. Look, pregnancy hormones are a thing—I'm irritable, I get it, I'm self-aware—but it goes deeper than that. Something happens that would reasonably infuriate any sane human being, but the moment I react, the patronizing starts: "Don't get upset, I'll fix it, just stay calm." As if the issue is my temper rather than the actual situation that caused it. Of course, everyone else plays the martyr—they view me as this hormone-driven terror while they remain these perfect, saintly creatures suffering through my outbursts...

☕

Whew, okay—rant over. I am definitely on edge!

Oh, and I totally forgot to mention this.

The name.
THE NAME.
Jesus, the drama surrounding a simple name is unreal.
"Do you really have to call him that?"
"They’re just going to call him ________ (insert two or three terrible nicknames here)."
"Mark asked if you could please reconsider the name one more time..."
"Well, there are plenty of other lovely names out there... just not this one..."

I’m honestly confused—where in the sentence "He will be called ____" did anyone see the question, "Hey, what are your thoughts on this name, and if you dislike it, what would you suggest instead?"

🍿

Edit: It's a normal name. It's not like they named him Hospice.

Justin Allen81 said:I figured I’d chime in—I’m usually high-strung, but with this pregnancy, my patience is basically non-existent. It's like being three times as irritable as usual.

First off, the weight gain is driving me insane.😁 It wasn't a massive explosion—I've put on about 26 pounds over 34 weeks—which is slightly more than ideal, but not catastrophic. HOWEVER! I’m naturally thin, and now I feel like a stranger in my own skin; these extra pounds just don't sit right on me. I HAVE A DOUBLE CHIN. Honestly, I feel like punching someone.😁
DOUBLE CHIN!!!!!!!

Beyond that, what really gets under my skin (as I assume it does for most of you here) is how people feel entitled to comment on my size. So what if I am? I’m the one eating the food, not you. My mother is a constant source of irritation—she can't help but call me fat and constantly compare me to my first pregnancy ("You were so thin then, look at you now," etc.). Her absolute peak of nonsense was telling me: "How is that poor baby going to survive with all that extra padding?" 🙂

Then there's my mother-in-law. She used to call me "Fatty" on a regular basis until I gave her a look so sharp she probably felt her carotid artery pulse. Since that moment, she hasn't used the word "fat" directly, but she's mastered the art of the passive-aggressive detour—things like: "Oh, your face has changed so much! You look totally different now!"
YEAH. When you gain 26 pounds, your face changes. YOU GET A DOUBLE CHIN. I'm well aware; trust me, I know...

Work is another headache. I’m finishing up this week before heading out for two weeks of vacation followed by maternity leave, but for the last three months, my colleagues have been acting like I’m a ghost. They wonder why I'm not doing more, why I'm not at home, blah blah blah... But the second I mention my upcoming departure, the waterworks start. The mourning, the drama, the "ohhh, how will we possibly manage without you?" and "there's going to be so much work once you're gone!" It's exhausting. Just let me leave. As for how *they* will handle it... who cares?
They need to decide if they want me there or not—not that I should even bring it up and trigger their guilt trips. Honestly, I couldn't care less how they cope without me.

What's particularly grating is how certain people treat me like I've lost all cognitive function. Look, pregnancy hormones are a thing—I'm irritable, I get it, I'm self-aware—but it goes deeper than that. Something happens that would reasonably infuriate any sane human being, but the moment I react, the patronizing starts: "Don't get upset, I'll fix it, just stay calm." As if the issue is my temper rather than the actual situation that caused it. Of course, everyone else plays the martyr—they view me as this hormone-driven terror while they remain these perfect, saintly creatures suffering through my outbursts...

☕

Whew, okay—rant over. I am definitely on edge!

This!
The way I lose it when people try to dismiss my VALID anger by waving it off like, "meh, it's just the hormones." I honestly don't complain much and I'm definitely not one to throw tantrums, but it is incredibly frustrating when someone tries to invalidate how you feel like that. 🙂

Justin Allen81 said:I figured I’d chime in—I’m usually high-strung, but with this pregnancy, my patience is basically non-existent. It's like being three times as irritable as usual.

First off, the weight gain is driving me insane.😁 It wasn't a massive explosion—I've put on about 26 pounds over 34 weeks—which is slightly more than ideal, but not catastrophic. HOWEVER! I’m naturally thin, and now I feel like a stranger in my own skin; these extra pounds just don't sit right on me. I HAVE A DOUBLE CHIN. Honestly, I feel like punching someone.😁
DOUBLE CHIN!!!!!!!

Beyond that, what really gets under my skin (as I assume it does for most of you here) is how people feel entitled to comment on my size. So what if I am? I’m the one eating the food, not you. My mother is a constant source of irritation—she can't help but call me fat and constantly compare me to my first pregnancy ("You were so thin then, look at you now," etc.). Her absolute peak of nonsense was telling me: "How is that poor baby going to survive with all that extra padding?" 🙂

Then there's my mother-in-law. She used to call me "Fatty" on a regular basis until I gave her a look so sharp she probably felt her carotid artery pulse. Since that moment, she hasn't used the word "fat" directly, but she's mastered the art of the passive-aggressive detour—things like: "Oh, your face has changed so much! You look totally different now!"
YEAH. When you gain 26 pounds, your face changes. YOU GET A DOUBLE CHIN. I'm well aware; trust me, I know...

Work is another headache. I’m finishing up this week before heading out for two weeks of vacation followed by maternity leave, but for the last three months, my colleagues have been acting like I’m a ghost. They wonder why I'm not doing more, why I'm not at home, blah blah blah... But the second I mention my upcoming departure, the waterworks start. The mourning, the drama, the "ohhh, how will we possibly manage without you?" and "there's going to be so much work once you're gone!" It's exhausting. Just let me leave. As for how *they* will handle it... who cares?
They need to decide if they want me there or not—not that I should even bring it up and trigger their guilt trips. Honestly, I couldn't care less how they cope without me.

What's particularly grating is how certain people treat me like I've lost all cognitive function. Look, pregnancy hormones are a thing—I'm irritable, I get it, I'm self-aware—but it goes deeper than that. Something happens that would reasonably infuriate any sane human being, but the moment I react, the patronizing starts: "Don't get upset, I'll fix it, just stay calm." As if the issue is my temper rather than the actual situation that caused it. Of course, everyone else plays the martyr—they view me as this hormone-driven terror while they remain these perfect, saintly creatures suffering through my outbursts...

☕

Whew, okay—rant over. I am definitely on edge!

Maybe you notice it more than they actually do, or perhaps they really are teasing you?

Personally, I don't think 26 pounds in this timeframe is much at all, especially if you were on the thinner side to begin with. I'm currently in my 30th week and have put on about 25 pounds, and nobody has made any comments about me being fat, even though I subjectively feel much wider than I am tall.

Don't let it get to you; try to just shrug it off. If you start making jokes about yourself first, they won't find it fun to pick on you anymore.

And regarding what you wrote about the name—man, we are struggling with that too since we haven't picked one yet. God forbid, given how judgmental people can be.

Justin Allen81 said:Oh, and I totally forgot to mention this.

The name.
THE NAME.
Jesus, the drama surrounding a simple name is unreal.
"Do you really have to call him that?"
"They’re just going to call him ________ (insert two or three terrible nicknames here)."
"Mark asked if you could please reconsider the name one more time..."
"Well, there are plenty of other lovely names out there... just not this one..."

I’m honestly confused—where in the sentence "He will be called ____" did anyone see the question, "Hey, what are your thoughts on this name, and if you dislike it, what would you suggest instead?"

🍿

Edit: It's a normal name. It's not like they named him Hospice.

Charlie Chaplin, I second your entire previous post; I actually had a good laugh because it was so spot-on and true to life! As for the name situation, we handled it this way—we told everyone, dead serious, that the little guy would be named Barnabas, and if they thought that was too long, they could always shorten it to Barna. You should have seen their faces! When we finally admitted we were joking a few minutes later, almost any other name was fine, even Duke 👏

Fine, I’m 39 weeks pregnant and just now stumbled upon this thread!!! 😵
Just spent some time thinking about how many irritating situations, questions, and comments I've dealt with over these last 39 weeks. 🤦It wouldn't be nearly as annoying if it wasn't coming from people I barely know, people I don't see often, or people who wouldn't care about me if I didn't have a massive belly...

Here's the list:
1. The baby's gender—seriously, what is wrong with people? Why are they so obsessed with asking if it's a boy or a girl? First off, why would I share that info with anyone other than the people I actually want to tell?
Second, why does it matter to some random person I see twice a year? Get over it. It's a 50/50 shot. It's either a boy or a girl. God forbid there's a third option, then we'd really have a problem.
And when you shut them down by saying you aren't sharing or that you don't know, they give you that attitude and say, "I was just asking, you don't have to be like that." 🙄 If I don't have to tell you, then don't ask.

2. Baby names—someone above already mentioned this, but let's get it out there: it's incredibly annoying. This is my kid. They will be named whatever I want, period. If I wanted outside opinions, I'd run a poll around town. Since I haven't, understand that I am NOT interested in your suggestions.

3. Pregnancy hormones—just because I get worked up doesn't mean my hormones are out of control. And stop with the "Oh, calm down, it's bad for the baby" routine. The only thing hurting the baby is comments like that that make my blood pressure skyrocket. Pregnant women are stressed not just because of hormones, but because people are exhausting.

4. Parenting advice—look, this is my first child. I know I don't know everything yet, but please stop telling me how to raise a baby that hasn't even been born. Just because your kid only stopped crying once they had Bebimil or were fed from the left side doesn't mean mine will be the same. Maybe my kid will prefer the right side. 🤦 Not to mention all the unsolicited advice on wide diapers, changing, bathing, and all that. The best part? Every single piece of advice is different. I swear I haven't received the same one twice. 🙄 It's my first, but I'm not stupid.

5. "You haven't even had the baby yet"—really? Do I look like I've already given birth when my stomach is this huge? 😠 And what does "yet" even mean? Should I wear a sign with my due date on it so nobody mistakenly thinks I've already delivered? Or better yet, the question "When are you due?" What am I, Vanga?
If I actually knew the answer, I probably wouldn't be sitting at home feeling this tense waiting for it. And if I did know, I definitely wouldn't be telling strangers who keep asking me. 🤦

6. The absolute worst question ever: "Are you showing? How much?"
Makes me want to ask, "Wanna see??" 🤦

Then there’s all the other nonsense—guessing gender based on whether a belly is low, high, flat, round, or pointy; rubbing the stomach; commenting on whether it looks too big or too small compared to how the lady looked during her own pregnancy; telling people what they can or can't eat; obsessing over weight or being too thin.

What kind of people are we actually dealing with here? 🙏
I’m honestly sitting here just waiting for them to start hitting me with those ridiculous questions; I suppose I'll have plenty to say once they do. 🙂
☕

Edward Ramos72, my regards to you🙏

Since my baby bump is now quite impossible to ignore, the neighborhood grandmas have started taking notice. Just yesterday, I was out front aimlessly sweeping the driveway with a broom,
and wouldn't you know it, one of those local busybodies comes sprinting across the street
clutching her hair and shrieking like it's the end of days.
I just stopped and stared at her, wondering what on earth was so wrong.
"Sweetheart, please, just sit down! Why are you out there cleaning with a broom?" 🙄
I told her, quite plainly, that pregnancy isn't some debilitating illness; it's simply a state of being. She got all flustered and gave me some "well, I wish you the best" nonsense... fine, whatever. So what am I supposed to do? Lie in a coffin and wait for the delivery? 🙂

I attended a wedding recently—I was right in the middle of the dance floor, not sitting down for a single second. People were staring at me from every angle as if I were out there chopping wood in the yard. 🙄

I have two acquaintances, both seven months along. Everything seems perfectly normal, textbook even. We decided to grab coffee, but the cafe had about six steps leading up to the entrance. They both just froze, looking at me as if I’d suggested we hike the Great Wall of China. As if! They started lecturing me about how it wasn't "healthy."
Honestly, I wanted to tell them to get lost since they've already turned into old biddies themselves.
There are certainly awful people out there, but seeing what some pregnant women turn into—and I'm talking about perfectly healthy pregnancies—is truly terrifying. 🤦

Ashley Bailey75 said:This!
The way I lose it when people try to dismiss my VALID anger by waving it off like, "meh, it's just the hormones." I honestly don't complain much and I'm definitely not one to throw tantrums, but it is incredibly frustrating when someone tries to invalidate how you feel like that. 🙂

Exactly.

Look, if I wasn't already losing my grip on reality before this, I’ve officially lost that final shred of sanity—totally. I’m snapping—but it's coming from a place of pure, unadulterated desperation.😁

shadowbadger15 said:Maybe you notice it more than they actually do, or perhaps they really are teasing you?

Personally, I don't think 26 pounds in this timeframe is much at all, especially if you were on the thinner side to begin with. I'm currently in my 30th week and have put on about 25 pounds, and nobody has made any comments about me being fat, even though I subjectively feel much wider than I am tall.

Don't let it get to you; try to just shrug it off. If you start making jokes about yourself first, they won't find it fun to pick on you anymore.

And regarding what you wrote about the name—man, we are struggling with that too since we haven't picked one yet. God forbid, given how judgmental people can be.

Even if they’re just joking around, it doesn't matter. If someone wants to play that game, I’ll play it right back—with interest. Next time someone decides to make a comment about my weight, I’m going to start listing every single condiment I can think of until we see who runs out of breath first.😁
Luckily, I have my defenders—because frankly, men and women aren't exactly thrilled when that starts happening, especially the ladies. They take it personally on my behalf.😁
Then go ahead—hold a whole damn vigil to argue that Mom isn't overweight, she’s just pregnant. Because clearly, those two things aren't the same.😁

Arthur Fisher42 said:Charlie Chaplin, I second your entire previous post; I actually had a good laugh because it was so spot-on and true to life! As for the name situation, we handled it this way—we told everyone, dead serious, that the little guy would be named Barnabas, and if they thought that was too long, they could always shorten it to Barna. You should have seen their faces! When we finally admitted we were joking a few minutes later, almost any other name was fine, even Duke 👏

This is quite simply brilliant.🤣

Look, everyone has an opinion on names—that’s just how it works. While my friends were out there naming their kids all sorts of things, most of those choices struck me as either hideous or just plain nonsensical. But honestly? What am I supposed to say when someone hands me a kid with a terrible name? It’s their child, not mine—so why should I care? The move is simple: give a polite little laugh, say, "Oh, what a lovely name!" and leave it at that. Why on earth would you go out of your way to insult someone? Even if nobody asked for your input—and let’s face it, they didn't—it’s common courtesy to lie and say the name is great. If you actually want to be a real friend, that's the standard.🤣

Samuel Patel4 said:Edward Ramos72, my regards to you🙏

Since my baby bump is now quite impossible to ignore, the neighborhood grandmas have started taking notice. Just yesterday, I was out front aimlessly sweeping the driveway with a broom,
and wouldn't you know it, one of those local busybodies comes sprinting across the street
clutching her hair and shrieking like it's the end of days.
I just stopped and stared at her, wondering what on earth was so wrong.
"Sweetheart, please, just sit down! Why are you out there cleaning with a broom?" 🙄
I told her, quite plainly, that pregnancy isn't some debilitating illness; it's simply a state of being. She got all flustered and gave me some "well, I wish you the best" nonsense... fine, whatever. So what am I supposed to do? Lie in a coffin and wait for the delivery? 🙂

I attended a wedding recently—I was right in the middle of the dance floor, not sitting down for a single second. People were staring at me from every angle as if I were out there chopping wood in the yard. 🙄

I have two acquaintances, both seven months along. Everything seems perfectly normal, textbook even. We decided to grab coffee, but the cafe had about six steps leading up to the entrance. They both just froze, looking at me as if I’d suggested we hike the Great Wall of China. As if! They started lecturing me about how it wasn't "healthy."
Honestly, I wanted to tell them to get lost since they've already turned into old biddies themselves.
There are certainly awful people out there, but seeing what some pregnant women turn into—and I'm talking about perfectly healthy pregnancies—is truly terrifying. 🤦

I was at a friend's wedding too... Half the guests spent the whole night shoving my nose toward my glass, checking what I was drinking just to make sure some pregnant woman wouldn't drink like a pig 🤦 Apparently, that's how I look 😁
And don't even get me started on those devilish looks burning holes in my back when I stepped out onto the balcony with a friend to light a cigarette... 🙂

Oh, and there's one more thing. It isn't inherently a bad thing, but it’s starting to get on my nerves how everyone who runs into me on the street asks if I'm okay or if everything is alright—as if it's some sort of social norm to assume something is wrong. I realize it comes from a place of kindness and good intentions, but when it becomes a constant refrain, I start feeling like an idiot. I find myself questioning, "Wait, am I actually okay? Is there something visibly wrong with me?" 😵

Or they ask, "Is the baby doing okay?" Honestly, even if things weren't going perfectly, I'm certainly not about to stand there on a busy sidewalk in downtown Chicago giving you a full breakdown of my life.

Starting this thread because it might actually be the best one yet. 😁

I'm 26 weeks pregnant. And I am officially fed up.

The single worst question anyone can ask me is: "Is the baby alive?" Like, seriously? The heart started beating like 20 weeks ago. No, honey, until I feel movement, it’s not "alive."

It drives me insane having to explain basic biology to people who clearly missed middle school science...

Second thing: I was already 20 pounds overweight when I got pregnant. I didn't have morning sickness and my appetite was through the roof, so by week 21, I had gained about 32 pounds. My doctor at Mayo Clinic put me on a meal plan, and I've been sticking to it religiously since then.

But if I turn down a dessert, the interrogation starts. "Are you sure?" "Are you okay?" "Why won't you eat this?" Then I say no, thanks. They go, "Oh, come on, you know you can, you're pregnant..." So I politely explain I'm on a medical diet. Then comes the lecture about how I'm being "unreasonable," or how the baby will get sick because of my choices, or how I'll end up with gestational diabetes if I don't eat everything in sight. It's pure stupidity. Why can't people just accept "No thank you" and leave it at that?

Whew, rant over...

Then there's the comments: "Gosh, you're getting so big, you're going to be huge." "You won't be able to deliver like that." "Are you feeling alright?..."

And the random strangers touching my stomach. Can I? Can I?! No, you cannot.

Or: "Why are you taking all those supplements and vitamins? We didn't have that stuff back in my day." Well, we have it now. Deal with it.

Hope I didn't overwhelm you guys. Just needed to vent.

Don't even get me started on names. We've picked one, and that's final. It's my kid, my husband's kid, and we're the ones deciding the name. Period.

When I told one of my close friends I was having a boy, she looked disappointed and said she wished it was a girl. Honestly, why do you care?

uhhh... 😁

With these two pregnant women, most of the time I just found it annoying how everyone would act so surprised that I wasn't dealing with morning sickness. They’d be all, "Oh, I lost my soul," or whatever... then they'd start questioning why I'm out walking, driving, or heading to my lectures, or why I don't have six undershirts ready... 🙄

I think I've finally gotten used to the scrutiny, though. Now, I can just give them a casual shrug and move on.

Lately, though, I'm mostly just frustrated with myself because the amount I'm eating is getting ridiculous.
My husband finishes his meal and heads back to work while I'm sitting there asking the kids if they want anything else, then cleaning up their plates if there's food left in the pot... 🤦
I'll eat a decent-sized portion and only then does the hunger actually hit me.
I'm three and a half months along and I've only gained about four pounds. It makes me nervous thinking about what's going to happen by the end.
I'm just counting down the days until it gets warmer so I can spend all my time out walking... 👋

Something really rubbed me the wrong way the other day—not directly related to the pregnancy, but let’s just roll with it: we were having coffee with my husband's side of the family when they brought up the whole "celebration" thing for the baby's arrival. Apparently, he’s expected to host some big get-together while I’m stuck in the hospital, because that’s just how things are done, right?

My husband and I just shared this one look.😁
He tried to explain to them that the idea was completely insane to us—that him drinking and hosting a party while I'm lying in a hospital bed is just wrong. He told them he’ll be home looking after our daughter and getting everything ready for when we finally head back from the hospital, so we can all celebrate together once I've actually recovered.

And those looks they gave him...🤣 It was like, "That's not how you do things." As if he isn't entitled to celebrate the birth of his son however he damn well pleases! Like, heaven forbid a man doesn't get wasted the second a baby is born just to show he's happy.🙏

We explained it again.
No, it’s not how it works.

We explained it yet again.
"Well, I guess you won't be joining us for a drink then!" they snapped.

🤣
Honestly, I'm just waiting for them to show up at our doorstep uninvited.🤣 My only regret is that I won't be there to witness the drama.🤣

Justin Allen81 said:Something really rubbed me the wrong way the other day—not directly related to the pregnancy, but let’s just roll with it: we were having coffee with my husband's side of the family when they brought up the whole "celebration" thing for the baby's arrival. Apparently, he’s expected to host some big get-together while I’m stuck in the hospital, because that’s just how things are done, right?

My husband and I just shared this one look.😁
He tried to explain to them that the idea was completely insane to us—that him drinking and hosting a party while I'm lying in a hospital bed is just wrong. He told them he’ll be home looking after our daughter and getting everything ready for when we finally head back from the hospital, so we can all celebrate together once I've actually recovered.

And those looks they gave him...🤣 It was like, "That's not how you do things." As if he isn't entitled to celebrate the birth of his son however he damn well pleases! Like, heaven forbid a man doesn't get wasted the second a baby is born just to show he's happy.🙏

We explained it again.
No, it’s not how it works.

We explained it yet again.
"Well, I guess you won't be joining us for a drink then!" they snapped.

🤣
Honestly, I'm just waiting for them to show up at our doorstep uninvited.🤣 My only regret is that I won't be there to witness the drama.🤣

Good grief... 🤦

Is this really happening?
Was it this much of a mess when you guys had your first kid?