By Jocelyn Rowe

Pregnancy is easy for some women. I have friends who think of having another child and a fetus just magically appears in their womb. They eat strictly organic foods from their local farmers markets, and they maintain a steady workout up until they deliver their babies naturally at home in a tub of granola and essential oils.

I am not that person. In fact, I am the white trash, embarrassing cousin of that person. Britney Spears circa 2007 is my pregnancy spirit animal.

As soon as I get knocked up, I am instantly frantic about having to share my body with the fetus inside me. I get impatient and anxious with the excitement of meeting my new baby, and in turn, I indulge in every food desire under the sun. When your new normal is falling asleep on the couch, elbows deep in a bag of Flaming Hot Cheetos, it’s no wonder those 50 pounds of pregnancy weight creep up on you. I’m really trying to not use pregnancy as an excuse for looking like a homeless person for 9 months, but after 2 kids, I’ve decided to just own it.

Each pregnancy, I vow that things will be different this time around. I will attempt to dress like the adorable pregnant women I see on Pinterest. I will try to eat healthier—because Lord knows, the older I get, the harder this baby weight is to lose. I also vow to take control of my crazy hormones.

Nonetheless, here I am, wearing my husband’s XL t-shirt for the 3rd day in a row while deep in a Netflix hole I cannot seem to escape. I don’t know if I should be ashamed or proud that the teenagers working at the Taco Bell know me now on a first-name basis. And if I couldn’t be any more of a hot mess, I found my car keys in the refrigerator yesterday after an hour-long search party involving the entire family—because, you know, this is somehow all their fault.

So to all you mamas out there who make pregnancy look amazing, I salute you. You’re 7 months pregnant and still in your pre-pregnancy jeans? Awesome. You’re having a placenta smoothie after birth? Whatever floats your crunchy little boat! Trying to keep up with you is exhausting, though. So I am just going to sit here on the sidelines while I inhale Oreos and simultaneously check my bra to see what other food fell down my shirt.

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About the Author

Jocelyn lives in Pittsburgh, PA with her husband and 2 kids. As a high school teacher, she spends time Googling the meaning to rap lyrics and Urban Dictionarying slang terms so that she can appear cooler than she really is. She enjoys running, drinking copious amounts of white wine, and pretending that she cooks for her family.