'Oh, yes! Pregnancy is horrible, dincha know?!'

Well, Simon and baby and I have passed the twelve week mark and have made the big announcement to all of our friends. Many congratulations have poured in, and even the first gift - some teeny tiny socks, jumpsuits, rompers and singlets, all in neutral colours, from Chris, Paula, Georgia and Isabel. (Thankyou!) There has been a lot of goodwill sent in our direction, promises of visits to Castlemaine, and too many emailed exclamation marks to count!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What also came through, though, were a few emails from friends who for various reasons are not pregnant but would like to be. Confessions of slight jealousy at our good fortune have not surprised me; I have expressed exactly the same sentiments to previous mothers-to-be of my circle, when they have made announcements that I wished I was making. Well, ladies and germs, I want to relate to you a conversation I had on Sunday morning with my old school friend Kirsty, mother of two:

Me: 'Hello?'
Kirst: 'Ohmigod! You're pregnant! I just read your email and I started crying! I am so excited for you it is such amazing news!'
Me: 'Kirst, thankyou.'
K:'Are you excited?'
Me: 'Actually, Kirst, I'm finding that pregnancy is quite hard...'
K: 'Oh yes! Pregnancy is horrible, didn't you know?'
Me: 'No one told me....'
K: 'I told you.'
Me: 'I don't think I was listening...'
K: 'No, you weren't. It's really a terrible experience.'

Now, I don't want to confuse 'being pregnant' with 'having a child', because I am told that the latter is much more a) pleasant and b) permanent than the former. So please don't think I am not looking forward to having a little Jess or Simon to name, influence, discipline, and do craft with. No, I am talking about the nine months preceding the start of that phase, those months that are, in the scheme of things, quite short, but by their nature seem to pass glacially slowly.

I can hear the clicking of tongues and the furrowing of brows from here. What could be so terrible about growing new life? Isn't that the crowning achievement of womanhood, should one be lucky enough to be able?

Well, consider this. How would you like it if suddenly you lost all ability to stand upright for more than ten minutes? And stay awake for more than about six hours? Have to eat every two hours, but not too much at a time? And could no longer eat some of the most convenient foods around, that might give you sustenance without too much effort (sushi, premade salads, ham)? And could on many occasions stomach nothing but hot chips and lemonade anyway? Had to give up all activities based in standing up/walking/cycling? Alternated constipation and diarrhoea for weeks and weeks? Had to endure mystery stomach aches for days on end? (Don't anyone dare say anything about the chips and lemonade.) Headaches that lasted for days? A runny nose permanently? Sensitive teeth, anyone? Muscle loss due to lying in bed all day? Pretending none of it happening so as to preserve the secret? And finally, the piece de resistance: massive, unpredictable, extreme mood swings, from despair to jubilation in a matter of hours.

Oh yes, pregnancy is horrible. Do not be fooled. Do not aspire to it. See it as a necessary stage of life that will, all going well, produce a bundle of joy that will be your most amazing achievement. But it is not fun.

We live in a culture that, rightly, exults the process of pregnancy and childbirth. It is a tough business and women should be praised to the skies for it. But don't romanticise the process too much. I am told there are some women who 'love' being pregnant. All power to them. For the rest of us, it's akin having to a giant hangover, PMT, and chronic fatigue syndrome all at once.

So says Jess, proselytiser for Truth About Pregnancy.

Questions? Comments? Challenges? Bring it on! I'll fight the lot of yer! Gah...

I'm off to eat baked beans from the tin, shuffle into the shower, and then have a nap.