Being Pregnant in the Summertime is Like…
For most of our lives, summertime is a great thing! It means patios and potato salad, beach days and hammocks, and sipping cocktails in sundresses long into the well-lit night.
Except when you’re pregnant.
When you’re pregnant, you have to query as to how long the potato salad has been sitting out, you must avoid the sun because your skin hates you just as much as the rest of your parts do, you can only drink “mocktails” with cutesy names like “The Virgin Mule” (which you KNOW is just ginger ale with a sad little lime wedge. No one is fooled by the hipster glassware. Also, that seems like a lot of personal information about the mule), and a sun that won’t set just means you have an even harder time falling asleep at night.
When you’re pregnant, summertime has already been tampered with, but when the heat index rises, it becomes your worst nightmare.
This is what it feels like to be pregnant in the summertime:
You’re in a sandstorm, wearing a full-body wool poncho, with only an opening the size of a cocktail straw through which you can breathe, kind of.
You know those microwavable veggie packets that steam while they cook? You’re the broccoli.
Or, since you probably have a severe broccoli aversion right now, you know how at convenience stores there are those plump red hot dogs just sitting in that cooker, spinning and sweating all day? You’re the hot dog.
You’re sharing a sleeping bag with someone in 90-degree heat but you can’t unzip it and get…