6 Deadly Sins of Pregnancy I Confess to Committing

pregnant stomachI've always been a careful person, a woman with a good head on her shoulders who tends to make wise choices. I said "tends to." That means I slip up from time to time. Or, if you count my nine months of pregnancy, a lot.

I read a zillion expectant mom books and took good notes at the doctor's. I stayed away from the bad fish and alcohol and painkillers other than the occasional Tylenol. I didn't whiten my teeth. I took care of myself and my growing baby and was generally healthy (we won't talk about that month of weekly candy binges). But I still unwittingly committed 6 of the pregnancy deadly sins.

I could blame my blond hair. It's a convenient excuse for what those who know me well dub my "Catherine moments." Or I could blame pregnancy brain. But in the end, all I can do is blame my own damn ditzy self.

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What terrible faux pas am I referring to, you ask? Behold ...

I accidentally ate brie and blue cheese. The weird thing about this one is that I was so cautious about it for most of my pregnancy. Countless times, I was tempted by the soft cheeses, and countless times I gallantly refrained. And then one day, I got carried away at my friend's dinner party and merrily popped a cracker spread with brie into my mouth. And then another. And then one sprinkled with blue cheese. And then -- dang it! I remembered something rather important ...

I asked the doctor silly questions. Swear you won't laugh? I said swear! In one of my early ob/gyn appointments, the one where you can see the heartbeat on the ultrasound, I asked if the fetus still had a tail. My husband laughed, then shook his head in embarrassment. The doctor let out a whoop and said something along the lines of, "No, dumb ass, the fetus doesn't have a tail!" But I read that they do -- they really do! -- in the very early stages of pregnancy. I showed my husband the passage in the book when we got home. He was having none of it.

I wore tight-fitting shirts. I didn't know this was a thing until a lovely coworker of mine commented on it one day at the office, complimented me on my bravery, and did a post about pregnant women wearing tight shirts. Apparently I'm some sort of maternity fashion pioneer. (Um, not.)

I carried heavy groceries. Not just once, mind you, but several times. I don't know why. Maybe it's a sickness? Some sort of masochistic tendency? Each time, I was scolded by my exasperated doorman. Toward the end, as I was hobbling in with four bags of groceries when I was nine months pregnant, he just rolled his eyes and looked away. He'd given up.

I tripped. There just isn't much to say about this except that I'm a klutz who trips plenty when she's not with child, so you can imagine what a little out-of-whack equilibrium will do to a girl like me. I will proudly say, however, that I never fell. Hold the applause.

I took an international flight in my first trimester. And not just any flight. I flew, oh, 20 hours to Australia. Oh yes, I did. In my defense, it was an important trip: a belated honeymoon type of deal. I even went snorkeling on the Great Barrier Reef. Thing is, I didn't know you're not supposed to take overseas flights in the early weeks until I was pretty much about to give birth. Anyway, it was all fine -- wonderful, even. Except on the way back when the drunk girl next to me threw up all over herself and my seat, which flight attendants then had to take out and replace with a new one (who knew they could do that midair?). Not fun for a morning sick pregnant woman, let me tell you. 

Which of the pregnancy deadly sins did you commit?

 

Image via www.photographybyjoelle.com/Flickr

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