Send HELP! I’m being held hostage in my own body!


*cue theme music from Taken*

Well, slightly over dramatic but nevertheless a well fitting summary of my state of mind. No one warns you prior to becoming pregnant that all those around you magically turn into nutrition experts and antenatal specialists. Now I like food, its apparent from my figure there is no denying that! But really? Family members and friends have never been so eagle eyed as when I’m trying to select the 5 dishes I want for lunch (perks of pregnancy). Dissatisfied mmmm’ing and tuts are followed after I relay my order to the waiter who wants nothing more than to fuck off from our table and loiter at the bar pretending to make our drinks.

It became very clear weeks into being pregnant that I am no longer Faridah, I am the storage for this baby and thats it. Hormones + ‘Oh you sure you want to eat that’?! = A murder case which I will happily plead not guilty on the grounds of temporary insanity.

My saving grace has been coffee, I went the first 4 months without touching a drop! I was ecstatic I made it this far, it wasn’t until I realised if I don’t have a morning coffee then pregnancy will get the better of me. So now I am sane (for now), ladies I recommend finding your one thing that makes you happy a day and enjoy the fuck out of it. If you saw the way I caress my coffee mug in the morning you would probably class it as a form of cheating, but I’m happy.
Happy pregnancy = Less chance of murdering the people around you 🙂 Win win situation if you ask me!

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