'I’m a crap pregnant woman. There, I said it.'

I’ve had an inkling for several weeks that I’m not a great pregnant woman, but now it has been confirmed.

A gorgeous colleague kindly arranged a baby shower for the six expectant mums in the Mamamia office (yes, you read correctly. Six) — a thoughtful and kind gesture.

And I was quietly dreading it.

Here I am at the end of the couch, on the right. I’m the stiff one with the glasses sitting at the end near the baby tomatoes and Bocconcini balls, not knowing what to do, while five lovely pregnant women smile for the camera.

I have a slight phobia of baby showers, I threw one a few years ago for an expectant friend – the first one in our grup to become a mum.

Despite the fact I was still able to drink Prosecco at our brunch, it was a supremely dull party.

“Never again!” I declared, after all the chat about baby names, prams, Baby Bjorns, lame games, car seats and onesies.

Don’t get me wrong, the overwhelming sensation I have as an expectant mum is that of feeling lucky.

I was diagnosed with Endometriosis last year – yes, the condition Lena Dunham brought to the spotlight; I’m so on trend – which is the path to having a family suddenly look turbulent.

I caught a mere glimpse of the heartache that can happen when you’re longing to start a family. It has made me greatly appreciate the whole pregnancy thing and the ability to become pregnant. I genuinely can’t wait to meet this hungry child that’s in my body.

Watch these Mamamia mum's answer all the tough questions about pregnancy. (Post continues after video)


I’ve had a fortunate pregnancy so far (touch wood). Bit queasy to start with and tired, but now more than halfway through, in the apparent "honeymoon trimester," I feel like myself, plenty of energy just with bigger boobs and a big-ole round tummy.

I can hear the quiet mocking laughter of all the mums out there and the sentiment: “Just you wait!”

I am fundamentally awkward around most things related to being pregnant: the looks, the question: “How are you feeling? How far along are you now?” I know, what an arsehole, lovely caring people simply checking in.

I’ve tried to feign interest in all the advice on offer about breast pumps and other baby related paraphernalia, but I quickly gloss over and think about other things. People are starting to see through my blank face and weak smile. Have I missed the pregnancy sisterhood boat? All the pregnant women I know seem so serene and content.

I asked a friend with three children if I should be worried and make more of an effort to engage as a pregnancy cheerleader.

“I think it's what you feel when you hold that little human that matters, not what you feel when you hold a onesie at Target,” she told me. “The swirl of emotions – good and bad – will knock you out of the park when you have that baby... you won't even remember what you were thinking at 6 months.”

That's the advice I've decided to take on board.