What were your biggest pregnancy surprises and pet peeves?

Right now, the thing that bugs me most is how my own inner circle keeps pushing sugary drinks and pastries on me, knowing full well my blood sugar is high. It honestly feels like they’re testing me, even though I know deep down they aren't doing it on purpose.

We went over to my in-laws' for lunch, and my mother-in-law immediately brings out the soda and offers it to us. Look, I get it—the whole family isn't going to stop drinking soda just because of me, but then don't act surprised when I pass. Then, as we're leaving, she shoves a box of cookies at us to have for Christmas. This was right after I told her I plan on making a few low-sugar batches so I can actually enjoy them. Now, while my husband finishes off the ones we already have, I'm stuck practicing pure willpower to stay away from them. And let's be real, these classic holiday cookies are loaded with sugar and are incredibly frustrating.

If anyone gives me a Hershey's bar for Christmas, I might just throw it back at them. 😠

So annoying.

I can't stand it when people baby my kid by twisting their words—like saying "wawa" instead of water or "piddle" instead of pee. It’s just nonsense.
It always bugged me when people talk down to toddlers like they're complete idiots, but lately, it feels like people have totally lost the plot...

As a mother and someone who’s pregnant, I am absolutely fed up with these militant moms and new parents. Their rigid beliefs and expectations are honestly more intense than anything you'd see from Boko Haram or the Khmer Rouge.
The other day I was reading an article about how our singer Kelly Clarkson just gave birth, mentioning she had a natural delivery. Naturally, the comment section exploded with people claiming it wasn't "natural" because she used an epidural 😲🙄🙄
Apparently, the logic is: the more agony you endure during labor, the longer you suffer, and the more stitches you end up with, the better of a mother and American you are. Using any kind of pain relief is strictly forbidden, obviously. (Maybe getting hit in the head with a rock would be acceptable?)
If you don't breastfeed, you aren't a mother.
If you breastfeed, but your kid isn't glued to your chest 24/7, you aren't a mother either.
If you don't have lumps, mastitis, or cracked nipples, you aren't a mother.
If your kid doesn't have some major diagnosis that requires you to be occupied with them every single second, you aren't a mother.

Give me a break. It's like you can't just say, "I'm raising my child this way, you're raising yours that way," and actually not give a damn what anyone else does. No, no, no... you have to undergo ultimate sacrifice—more than even Jesus during the crucifixion—just to be considered a parent.

Screw all of them. If I could have, I would have taken every drug under the sun during labor, from mushrooms to heroin to crystal meth. Breastfeeding was pure hell for me, and I'll sign that statement three million times over. But the idea of bragging about being "super" because I breastfed while acting like everyone else failed? Not happening. I don't go looking at other women's business.

And just try mentioning on this forum that you follow a feeding schedule instead of breastfeeding on demand... whoever survives will tell the tale. "Shame, shame, shame." >

I’m barely at the starting line and everyone is already getting on my nerves. Specifically, all this talk about how I have no idea what’s coming—lightning bolts and hellfire. The nausea, the labor pains, the struggle with the baby... just endless misery. I get it. It isn't easy. But can someone please tell me there's actually something beautiful waiting for me in all of this? If everything were truly that bleak, no woman would ever choose to give birth.

copperdrifter5 🤣🤣😂

Michael Jackson64 said:So annoying.

I can't stand it when people baby my kid by twisting their words—like saying "wawa" instead of water or "piddle" instead of pee. It’s just nonsense.
It always bugged me when people talk down to toddlers like they're complete idiots, but lately, it feels like people have totally lost the plot...

Good grief...
I actually confronted my husband about this yesterday when he was talking to his friend's little one.
I told him plainly: don't treat the kid like they're slow—learn how to speak normally before our own arrives.
His mother still talks to him like a toddler—this is a thirty-five-year-old man! Well, at least he maintains some composure, but his sister can barely hold a conversation without slipping into that infantile tone whenever she's around family.
And I am thirty, yet I still deal with his sister's baby talk. Unbelievable.
I realize a few-month-old baby doesn't care, but you can't carry this on indefinitely; otherwise, you'll end up raising adults who lack even the most basic communication skills.

Even a few-month-old baby isn't indifferent to how people talk. Their brain is busy soaking up early language patterns, so the way you communicate matters. I love it when my grandma tells me, "Oh, please, the baby doesn't even understand me yet." Sure, they don't get the context or the specific definitions, but they hear the tone, the melody, and the voices. And seriously, stop talking to them in that ridiculous baby talk—all that nonsense like "wittle baby" or whatever. What they hear today is what they’ll be repeating tomorrow. Why can't we just call a ball a ball? It's not that hard.

Then there's the issue of people getting stuck in the habit of baby talk. They think they'll magically stop once the kid hits 12 months, 18 months, or 2 years... nope. They keep doing it because it’s become muscle memory at this point, even though the kid clearly understands everything being said.
I know my grandma isn't going to quit just because I asked; it’s just her default mode now. I tried explaining it to her, but honestly, you can't teach an old dog new tricks...

The whole thing creeps me out. I don't see anything cute about it, and I definitely don't find it charming to say things like "is a wittle tiny bubba" just because.
And coming from me, too—I spend all day basically performing a one-woman show for my kid whenever they aren't sleeping. I'm constantly switching up my voice, meowing like a cat, squeaking like a mouse, singing, making weird little noises... if anyone overheard me from the street, they'd probably lock me in a padded cell.

But hey, at our checkup at the local pediatric clinic, the doctor was actually floored. She said she’s never seen such an eloquent kid—always vocalizing, playing with tones, "conversing," repeating sounds, and creating these melodic little gibberish songs. She was genuinely stunned. And this was a preemie who had some initial developmental delays. Honestly, maybe if I had talked to them like an idiot, we wouldn't be seeing this progress... but I highly doubt it.

Sent from my NOA_VISION_H3 using Reddit

copperdrifter5 said:As a mother and someone who’s pregnant, I am absolutely fed up with these militant moms and new parents. Their rigid beliefs and expectations are honestly more intense than anything you'd see from Boko Haram or the Khmer Rouge.
The other day I was reading an article about how our singer Kelly Clarkson just gave birth, mentioning she had a natural delivery. Naturally, the comment section exploded with people claiming it wasn't "natural" because she used an epidural 😲🙄🙄
Apparently, the logic is: the more agony you endure during labor, the longer you suffer, and the more stitches you end up with, the better of a mother and American you are. Using any kind of pain relief is strictly forbidden, obviously. (Maybe getting hit in the head with a rock would be acceptable?)
If you don't breastfeed, you aren't a mother.
If you breastfeed, but your kid isn't glued to your chest 24/7, you aren't a mother either.
If you don't have lumps, mastitis, or cracked nipples, you aren't a mother.
If your kid doesn't have some major diagnosis that requires you to be occupied with them every single second, you aren't a mother.

Give me a break. It's like you can't just say, "I'm raising my child this way, you're raising yours that way," and actually not give a damn what anyone else does. No, no, no... you have to undergo ultimate sacrifice—more than even Jesus during the crucifixion—just to be considered a parent.

Screw all of them. If I could have, I would have taken every drug under the sun during labor, from mushrooms to heroin to crystal meth. Breastfeeding was pure hell for me, and I'll sign that statement three million times over. But the idea of bragging about being "super" because I breastfed while acting like everyone else failed? Not happening. I don't go looking at other women's business.

And just try mentioning on this forum that you follow a feeding schedule instead of breastfeeding on demand... whoever survives will tell the tale. "Shame, shame, shame." >

Yeah, the woman said she was in labor for almost 20 hours (I actually went for 22!) at Mount Sinai. You sign up for one of those classes and they try to sell you on this idea that women don't labor for more than 4 or 5 hours before needing a C-section—like we’re living in the Middle Ages or something.😵

It honestly irritates me how, when a woman doesn't have children, she’s usually treated like an outsider at birthday parties and family gatherings—but the second she announces she's pregnant, suddenly she's part of the "inner circle." Until then, you just get those meaningful, judgmental stares directed toward the horizon instead of a warm welcome.

Patrick Williams8 said:I’m barely at the starting line and everyone is already getting on my nerves. Specifically, all this talk about how I have no idea what’s coming—lightning bolts and hellfire. The nausea, the labor pains, the struggle with the baby... just endless misery. I get it. It isn't easy. But can someone please tell me there's actually something beautiful waiting for me in all of this? If everything were truly that bleak, no woman would ever choose to give birth.

Don't worry! It’s entirely possible to have a pain-free experience, an express delivery, and a baby that sleeps through the night. People love to scare you, but none of those worst-case scenarios have to happen. There's no point in stressing over things you can't predict or control.
People like that really need to learn how to tone it down...

Bloating and gas, almost at the finish line.
I feel like I'm firing every 30 seconds.
Honestly, it feels so powerful I could launch myself to any destination in the world; I wouldn't even need a plane ticket or a passport.

Damn.

copperdrifter5 said:Bloating and gas, almost at the finish line.
I feel like I'm firing every 30 seconds.
Honestly, it feels so powerful I could launch myself to any destination in the world; I wouldn't even need a plane ticket or a passport.

Damn.

🤣🤣🤣 man, you cracked me up 😁

Ugh, just thinking back to all the unsolicited advice I received during my first pregnancy...

Honestly, if I could go back, I’d give everyone a piece of my mind:
-how my life was basically over, how I’d eventually have to get rid of the dog, or those condescending "just you wait" comments from people acting like they knew better than me (By the way, I'm 37, so excuse me if I know what I'm doing)... then there was the judgment about how I "sacrificed" my first night postpartum. Apparently, I was a total failure because even though I felt completely wiped out, had stitches, and couldn't even walk to the bathroom alone without help, it was somehow all my fault because I didn't get the baby latched immediately. Then they turned it into this whole thing about why I had mastitis, how I shouldn't have used formula, why I allowed them to do the episiotomy, why I needed the amniotic sac rupture, or how I "ruined" the experience by asking for an epidural...
Well, you can all just deal with it.
Now that I'm on my second, I've lost my filter entirely.
Basically, I just shut the conversation down or suddenly remember I have somewhere else to be. Like, bye.
Yes, I am probably going to work as hard as a beast during labor again (at least, I hope so😁), and yes, I am absolutely going to make sure I get to sleep ALONE the first night after delivery. I am actually looking forward to when my milk dries up and I can stop nursing, and if I run into the same issues as last time, I swear I won't struggle—I'll just switch to formula and call it a day.

Daniel Miller4 said:Ugh, just thinking back to all the unsolicited advice I received during my first pregnancy...

Honestly, if I could go back, I’d give everyone a piece of my mind:
-how my life was basically over, how I’d eventually have to get rid of the dog, or those condescending "just you wait" comments from people acting like they knew better than me (By the way, I'm 37, so excuse me if I know what I'm doing)... then there was the judgment about how I "sacrificed" my first night postpartum. Apparently, I was a total failure because even though I felt completely wiped out, had stitches, and couldn't even walk to the bathroom alone without help, it was somehow all my fault because I didn't get the baby latched immediately. Then they turned it into this whole thing about why I had mastitis, how I shouldn't have used formula, why I allowed them to do the episiotomy, why I needed the amniotic sac rupture, or how I "ruined" the experience by asking for an epidural...
Well, you can all just deal with it.
Now that I'm on my second, I've lost my filter entirely.
Basically, I just shut the conversation down or suddenly remember I have somewhere else to be. Like, bye.
Yes, I am probably going to work as hard as a beast during labor again (at least, I hope so😁), and yes, I am absolutely going to make sure I get to sleep ALONE the first night after delivery. I am actually looking forward to when my milk dries up and I can stop nursing, and if I run into the same issues as last time, I swear I won't struggle—I'll just switch to formula and call it a day.

It’s like you’re reading my mind. Even after my first baby, I actually asked them to take him away. I followed some friend's advice—even though I couldn't even blink because my adrenaline was redlining.

Sentences that always start with: "Just you wait..."

It feels like I can't even share my two cents anymore without getting hit with that same old threat 😁 Like, there's zero room for debate because once someone has kids, they suddenly think they have some kind of ultimate authority—meanwhile, us pregnant women are just supposed to sit tight, shut up, and wait our turn 🙂😁

jadewolf91 said:Sentences that always start with: "Just you wait..."

It feels like I can't even share my two cents anymore without getting hit with that same old threat 😁 Like, there's zero room for debate because once someone has kids, they suddenly think they have some kind of ultimate authority—meanwhile, us pregnant women are just supposed to sit tight, shut up, and wait our turn 🙂😁

Honestly, that used to get under my skin too 😂
But it turns out everything they said was actually true, and things really do play out exactly how they warned me. 🙂 Now I try my best not to throw that "just you wait" line at other people, but I guess sometimes it just slips out 😁

William Perez4 said:Honestly, that used to get under my skin too 😂
But it turns out everything they said was actually true, and things really do play out exactly how they warned me. 🙂 Now I try my best not to throw that "just you wait" line at other people, but I guess sometimes it just slips out 😁

Even if it is true... why do people get so defensive when you tell them you already know? It’s like, let’s face it, all babies are basically the same little chaos agents. 😁 Seriously, try telling someone their baby isn't just a tiny, stubborn little individual—they're just... a baby! 😁

And look, just because you occasionally can't help but point it out doesn't mean you're hunting for a chance to rub it in, or that you failed at being some kind of "perfect mom"—maybe there's just a fine line between sharing your experience and feeling like you're lecturing them. 🙂

Women who go out of their way to tell horrific birth horror stories to nervous first-time dads. Honestly, they belong in prison. Just thinking about it makes my skin crawl. My husband couldn't sleep for nights because he was so terrified of the vacuum extraction stuff.

Then you've got those old ladies who see me out walking the dog and just start barking at me from the sidewalk. I almost asked one if she’d feel better if I shared some gritty details about my own life—you know, just to lighten the mood for her.

And then there's my mom and her obsession with Down syndrome. Every single time she brings it up (and trust me, she brings it up *every* time), I wish we were living in a cartoon so a grand piano could just fall on her head and end the conversation. unknown, we don't have anyone in our family with any kind of disorder; it's purely her own irrational anxiety playing tricks on her.

Don't even get me started on my husband, who constantly whines about how "terrible" this pregnancy is—how I won't listen to him, how I do everything myself, how I'm lifting heavy stuff, riding my bike... blah, blah, blah. Finally, I snapped and told him I did all that exact same stuff during my last pregnancy (actually, even more, since we have a 35-lb Stafford now instead of a 100-lb Rottweiler last time). Only difference is my hips are absolutely killing me now. I'm not scared. I've been through the ringer already. (Plus, last time I was terrified of giving birth and insisted on trying for a natural delivery, but this time? I'm going straight for the C-section! :-)).

Whenever I think about my mother-in-law and her endless tales about how some woman "lost her water" just because she caught a little cold... man. We've all been sick multiple times this winter because the kid is in daycare, and when he gets a sniffle, two entire houses catch it. There's no more dramatic storytelling about "that lady over there" now.

Luckily, my mother-in-law is obsessed with cats and my mom is a dog person, so I managed to dodge most of those lectures.

Lines. Lines are everywhere. It's not the waiting that gets to me, it's those entitled old ladies who just breeze right past me in line to stand in front. Apparently, I don't look "important" enough, or maybe it's because I'm actually reading a book and they assume I won't notice.

Pregnant women with missing or rotten teeth. I honestly cannot deal with that. I want to shove them into a... beep, beep, beep... Look, I live in the US, I know our healthcare system can be a mess, but if you have insurance—or even if you aren't employed, you can get basically everything covered for free just by donating blood once a year (even if your blood work is total garbage, you can fix it up and donate once). We have perfectly fine dentists here; you pick whoever you want, and they get the job done. It's not high-end luxury, but it's decent. To me, it's just unacceptable that someone wouldn't take care of their teeth in this day and age. How? Why? (Unless we're talking genetics, obviously).

Stinky people. Or even worse, stinky people who won't stop bothering you. Take my brother, for example—he's against deodorant and spends the whole summer walking around in an unbuttoned shirt smelling like a locker room. He's officially banned from visiting while I'm pregnant, nursing, and during the summer months. :-)
Soap and water, people. No matter how bad things are, everyone has access to soap and water. Instead of buying cigarettes today, maybe try buying some deodorant.

@ Justin Rivera17 🙏

Anyone else here deal with absolute nightmare fuel during sleep?

I went through this during my first pregnancy, too. It was brutal. And I’m not talking about some childish nonsense—you know, being chased by monsters or whatever. I mean actual, gritty, hyper-realistic scenarios that play out in high definition. It’s honestly nauseating.

Some of them are straight-up terrifying—like, even a gritty HBO crime drama wouldn't dare depict them—while others are just completely draining. Real-life stuff. War zones, massive floods, seeing a car burst into flames, an assault... or those deep-seated parental fears that just won't quit. And the absolute worst part? A part of my brain stays wide awake knowing it’s all just a dream, so I end up overanalyzing the whole mess while it's actually happening.