I loathed being pregnant and shouldn't be criticized for expressing it was a nightmare.

"I was looking forward to a relaxing evening at a comedy show, finally getting some 'me time' as I settled into my seat in the cozy theater. Being six weeks pregnant, I knew these moments of solitude would soon be a rarity, so I wanted to savor every second of it. But of course, as luck would have it, I ran into an acquaintance as soon as I sat down.

She asked me what was new and, since my baby bump wasn't showing yet, I decided to break the news of my pregnancy to her. Her reaction was one of pure joy and excitement. 'Are you excited?' she asked, her eyes shining with happiness. I hesitated, unsure of how to respond.

At first, I didn't have the heart to tell her the truth - that I was actually having a terrible time and pregnancy was far from the blissful experience society makes it out to be. But for some reason, I decided to be honest and shared my mixed feelings with her. I confessed, 'Pregnancy really sucks.' The look on her face quickly changed from joy to a mix of judgment and confusion.

As a woman, it's almost taboo to say anything negative about pregnancy. We're expected to be radiantly happy and bursting with excitement at the mere thought of carrying a child. But I wanted to share my story so that other women going through the same struggles would know they are not alone.

I found out I was pregnant in the midst of planning my wedding. I was in my bathroom, convinced that my menstrual cycle was just a bit off, when I saw the positive result. I'll admit, my first feeling was fear. Fear about finances, fear of losing my independence, and fear of feeling trapped and bored. But I had to tell my partner, so like any true millennial, I texted him the result with a casual 'lol' at the end.

His reaction was completely different - he was overjoyed and wished he could be with me in that moment, even getting teary-eyed at work. But even six weeks into my pregnancy, I was still unsure about my own feelings. And then came the morning sickness, which only made things worse. It's no wonder I word-vomited my true feelings to someone I barely knew.

It wasn't until our 12-week ultrasound, where we found out our due date was just a week after our planned wedding, that reality started to sink in. But even then, I didn't feel the expected surge of emotion and excitement. It wasn't until I felt my baby kick for the first time that it truly hit me - there was a little life growing inside me. From that moment on, I slowly began to make my peace with the situation and even started to get excited about the baby's arrival.

But what nobody prepared me for was the physical toll pregnancy takes on a woman's body. The first trimester alone was filled with suffering - I couldn't stand the smell of cooking, I threw up in public like a drunk teenager, and I had to hold my breath whenever my partner got too close to avoid getting sick. And this was just the beginning - no one warned me that there was a possibility of being sick for three straight months.

But the worst part? I wasn't showing yet, so no one showed any sympathy or understanding towards my plight. I was still expected to go to work and perform at the same level as before, as if pregnancy didn't affect me at all. As the months went on, I could feel my intelligence and wit slipping away, a fact I learned from a particularly informative TikTok video that explained how pregnancy can impact the brain.

By the end of my pregnancy, I felt like I should have a tuba following me around, playing a sad tune as I waddled through town, resembling a big medicine ball. I couldn't even bend down to tie my shoes by myself, let alone have the energy or desire to go anywhere.

The only silver lining was that, for the first time in my life, medical professionals were actually telling me to eat more, not less. But no amount of muffins or cake could make up for the physical and emotional toll pregnancy was taking on me.

I couldn't even complain to my friends about it, especially my best friend Rebecca who kept telling me how much she loved being pregnant and even seemed jealous of me. All I could think was, 'What is wrong with you?! This is hell.'

And if the physical discomfort and limitations weren't enough, there was also the constant stream of conflicting advice from everyone who has ever had a child or thought about having one. Exercise, but not too much. Avoid herbal tea, but also drink it for nausea. And of course, there's the 'just wait' brigade, who love to remind you that pregnancy is just the beginning and it only gets harder from there.

But finally, in October 2023, we welcomed our bundle of joy via emergency c-section. I'll be honest, I didn't feel an overwhelming surge of love when they placed him in my arms for the first time. But I did feel a sense of familiarity, as if I had known this child my whole life. And that moment alone made all the suffering and discomfort worth it.

Since then, there have been countless precious moments that make it all worthwhile, like watching my partner and our baby sleep in the same position, looking like synchronized swimmers. These are the memories that make life worth living.

But I urge you, the next time someone tells you they're pregnant, try to show a little more empathy and understanding instead of automatically assuming they must be overjoyed. Offer them a seat, ask them how they're feeling, and please, never comment on the size of their belly. Let them unload and unwind, it might just make a difference. And when you see those happy family photos on social media, remember that there's often a lot more going on behind the scenes than meets the eye."

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