Being the worst mum in the world.

When I first became pregnant I was worried that I would be stuck in bed forever. If I so much as tried to do something, this overwhelming energy loss would hit me and drag me straight back to where I had just enthusiastically leaped out of.

It was like being a naughty toddler who kept getting caught out having fun with all of her toys during nap time. The parent catching me was my body, as if it was saying “No, no, no, don’t even think about it.”

Everyone had (and still has) an opinion on exactly what the timetable of my day should have been like-

“You ought to be eating more, you ought to be walking about more, you ought to be sleeping, you ought to be feeling movements by now, are you taking pre natal vitamins? It’s not for you, it’s for the BABY. Tut tut tut, shame on your two weeks into pre motherhood abilities and knowledge, if you fail to tick any of the above each day. You forgot your vitamins two days in a row? Tut tut tut you need to sort it OUT girl!”

i.e. your baby is gonna die because of YOU unless you do ALLOFTHEABOVEAllATONCE.

Needless to say- humanity has left me feeling terrible about the amount I walk.

Thirty three weeks in and what goes through my head most days is that if I haven’t been for a walk today I am a TERRIBLE person and I must not love my baby enough.

Walking whilst pregnant is HORRIBLE. You feel as though your vagina and bum hole are about to fall out and you can hardly breathe most of the way. Just the sight of a bench fills you with the same joy which you had left behind in your bed.

Needless to say, I don’t do a lot of it.

Humans have definitely put me off the thought of going through this experience again.

I don’t ever normally allow people to give me advice, so I have always gotten through life being a bit of a free spirit and doing things exactly as I please to do them. Normally the advice only comes to you if you seek it, because the situation is hidden from view until disclosed.

Unfortunately, this little bump of mine gives the game away, and apparently there is a huge note plastered to my stomach, only invisible to my own personal naked eye, which tells everyone else that unfortunately I wasn’t born with a brain and so I’m very desperate and retarded and really really need to be continually told how to rest, eat and ensure the blood continues to pump around my body every minute, and that they are doing me a huge service by doing so.

Oh and also could they please check with her if she has figured out where she is going to live for the entire 18 years of her first born’s life, what job she is going to do and how much time will she have the baby in the crib as opposed to on her lap. Just really really make sure guys, that she has gotten those points covered right now. Even though you don’t know her, it’s YOU who needs to ensure the perfect health and life of this fetus growing inside her. Occasionally someone can mix it up a bit and tell her she needs less sunlight too and that she is going to catch TB from sitting on the ground.

Pregnant women are vulnerable and I have come to the conclusion that it’s mostly due to these unwarranted advice vultures messing with their heads.

Luckily I know better now and can go into hiding the next time.