Then comes reality.
Morning sickness sets in, which lasts all day, followed by insomnia, moodswings that would make even Satan himself scared s*less, and various other symptoms of this 'miracle' slowly sucking the life out of you.
In the first trimester, you're likely to be so nauseous you can't eat anything other than ginger ale and crackers. You are so tired you often wonder if sleeping on the floor in front of the toilet is REALLY that gross. You sleep all day -- if you don't already have kids, that is, and only wake for the occasional trip to the bathroom. And by occasional I of course mean numerous. Be nice to your toilet, it will be your new BFF for the next 10 months. Oh did I forget to mention pregnancy is 10 months, not 9? Yeah. 40 whole weeks of torture. 42 weeks for those of you who are SUPER DUPER lucky! Do yourself a favor and buy yourself a heated, padded toilet seat cover now.
In trimester 2, IF you're lucky, the morning sickness subsides to make room for hellacious mood swings. But hey, at least you have the energy to scream and throw things at your husband for picking up the sliced pickles WITHOUT ridges (that stupid mother f*er!). That's the brightside, right there.
In the third trimester you can see the light at the end of the tunnel! Only... wait... there's still 13 more weeks?! WTF is this?! These are going to be the longest 13 weeks of your life. The lovely morning sickness returns, accompanying the fatigue, pea-sized bladder and mood swings, only this time, you get to throws some more "fun" on top. Yes, now you get to pile on some hip and back pain that disrupts those short, rare respites you get when sleeping. Bid farewell to sleep for the next 12 months or so. Oh, and say your goodbyes to your husband too, because with the amount of pillows you're going to prop around you in attempts to lessen the pain won't leave any room for him in the bed. Do him a favor and point him in the direction of the couch.
So when the time FINALLY comes, the countdown to delivery, you're so ready you don't care if you have to perform your own C-section with a rusty butter knife and some salad tongs. Don't worry, mother nature has some more of her awesome "fun" in store, just in case you still thought life was worth living. Some women get flu-like symptoms in the week leading up to labor. Yes, look forward to diarrhea (see, I told you to make the toilet your BFF), stomach cramps, nausea, vomiting, and full on body aches. And the only way to make it end is to push a watermelon sized baby out of your not-even-close-to-watermelon-sized vagina.
When your start getting contractions, you get excited only to realize that the average first labor lasts twenty-some-odd hours. And L&D wont admit you until you're at least 4cms dilated. So you get to have the super flu plus extremely painful contractions for about 15 or so hours before they'll even admit you to the hospital. SUPER!
After you FINALLY get admitted to the hospital, you can beg, plead and bribe whomever you see into getting that glorious epidural. That wonderful, beautiful 5 inch long needle they put into your spine filled with the best drugs you'll ever have. The drugs that make the pain go away. A few more hours of laboring down and you get to push. And as you push, a room full of complete strangers (and perhaps your mother-in-law if the drugs were good enough) get to see you pee, poop, puke, grunt and tear up your good & plenties as you push forth this child. What? You didn't know you'd be pooping, peeing and puking during labor? Well now you do! Have fun :)
This is where I am now, for the second time around. I have A who is 18 months old and E who is 7 weeks, and they are the best thing that's ever happened to me. They have taught me so much just by smiling, cooing, and testing my patience to the extreme. This is motherhood. Whoever called motherhood beautiful and perfect LIED. Motherhood is hard and mostly consists of figuring out how to outsmart the cute little dimple-faced demons that are your kids. Wish me luck, and enjoy laughing at my suffering.
Pregnancy is a disease from which you recover in 18 years and 9 months. ~Carrie Latet