Reminiscing about Pregnancy

The first time I was pregnant, I felt pretty adorable. 

And why shouldn't I?  Everywhere I went, people complimented me and fussed over me and sometimes even threw parties in my honor.

During my second pregnancy, I portrayed a pregnant character in a local community theater musical.  My dancing abilities fluctuate somewhere between adequate and sub-par, so I am not accustomed to a lot of praise for that aspect of my performance.  But whenever I pulled off a solidly adequate feat of dance in this particular production, the directors would gush and even encourage other cast members to emulate me:  "Look at April!  She's doing the knee spin and she's pregnant!"

By the third time around, I was older and so was my maternity wardrobe, but I still felt reasonably classy in my motherly state:

In fact, I got kind of sentimental about the whole thing, thinking this might be my last time around, and the idea of a body cast finally appealed to me, even though I had shunned the idea as weird during my first two pregnancies.  (It helped that I found a kit that made a cast that looked like a drape over a pregnant body, instead of a naked pregnant body.)

During my most recent pregnancy,  I was feeling my age. I would look in the mirror and see this:

That was on a good day.  On a bad day, my reflection looked more like this to me:

While I was much less fond of pregnancy this time around, I loved the hospital as much as ever.  Many women do not share my enthusiasm for the hospital.  They prefer to avoid that sterile environment and have their babies in the comfort of home.   While I respect their right to do so, I would never (and didn't ever) consider having a baby anywhere but at the hospital.  When it comes to giving birth, I like sterility and I can't imagine that my home would be comfortable--after all, I am the one who would have to clean it after all that childbirth happened.  Plus, my other kids live at my home.  I would have my baby in a hospital even if they didn't conveniently happen to offer medical care there.  There are so many reasons I love the hospital:

• They have cleaning crews.
• They have room service (and it is yummy!  People probably just think that hospital food is bad because they happen to be sick whenever they eat it.)
• Friends and family stop by to visit, sometimes bearing gifts, and no one cares that I am entertaining them in my pajamas.
• I get to stay in a room (almost) all by myself and relax and read or watch a movie.
• The only other person staying in my room is a darling new baby and if I do need some personal time to nap or shower, all I have to do is press my call button and someone arrives to babysit him.
• This last time, the hospital added the charming perk of a celebration dinner for two--it was like a date.

It makes me kind of sad to think that for the rest of my life, I will only get a chance to stay in the hospital if I get sick or injured.  I think that would make the experience much less pleasant.