Pregnancy Poop is the Worst & Other Things No One Tells You About

You get pregnant. You’re thrilled, terrified, anxious, excited. The congrats come in. Along with the advice. Lots of advice. Never-ending, unsolicited advice. Make it stop, please God advice. From friends, neighbors, strangers. There’s what gear to buy, apps to download, where to deliver, what (and what not) to name them, that you must (insert eye roll here) breastfeed, sign up for this class, that school… but where’s the real stuff you need to know? Why isn’t that offered up? Actual brass tax of pregnancy and post? Things that are going- and will go- on with your body that NO ONE talks about? I can Google all the other stuff. I need a friend, a real, no nonsense, brutal truth pal to tell me what to expect, not a damn book. If no one’s prepped you for what’s about to happen to your body and your life, allow me be that person for you.

First, if you thought poop was stinky before, you have no idea what you’re in for. There’s a special odor to pregnancy bowels that you won’t soon forget. I suppose it’s preparing you for baby poop, toddler poop, kids poop… You’ll be talking about poop for the next ten years or so of your life so you might as well get comfortable with it. I consider myself a fairly appropriate, if not proper person, at least in public. At first meeting, I’m usually quite reserved. (After getting to know you for awhile, I let my freak flag fly.) But soon after having my daughter, Lilly, my husband Zach and I were meeting other new parents and, within the first few minutes, talking about poop, gas, boobs… Parenthood: The Great Equalizer.

It doesn’t end there. Pre-pregnancy, I had a really nice back. Not one mark, fairly toned. It was hardly J.Lo quality but as a thirty-something, real person, I was satisfied with it. Post, I’m horrified. It’s like a connect-the-dots game gone crazy. The amount of moles are astonishing. And disgusting. Others experience major acne outbreaks. Thankfully, I’ve been spared that side effect. But whatever “your thing” is, guaranteed, it’s not pretty.

This is probably a well known one but, for those that don’t know, don’t let the term morning sickness deceive you. Sure, it happens in the morning. It also happens mid-morning, late-morning, early afternoon, afternoon, late afternoon, early evening and all through the damn day and night. Whoever named it was likely a man. And it comes in all forms. Actual vomiting, dry heaving, gagging, extreme nausea… It’s fun.

Another one I’ve been spared but my hear my friends complain about is the thinning and loss of your post-pregnancy hair. During, you’re told you’ll have long, flowing, healthy locks. I haven’t experienced that either. It’s definitely growing faster but, sadly, not any thicker or nicer and my nails, which are supposed to be strong, are thin and brittle as ever. But at least I don’t have bald spots or baby hairs like many of my mom friends.

Let’s talk about eating, shall we? You have this idea in your head that you’re going to be able to eat whatever you want and treat yourself but the reality is there’s a very small window when that actually happens. If you’re sick, you toggle between not wanting to think about food at all and needing carbohydrates like your life depends on it. It’s not a “What would I like?”, it’s a “If I don’t get a bagel stat, I’m not going to make it.” And you often don’t get to enjoy it for long because it comes up anyway. Then, the last thing you want is another bagel cause it reminds you, triggers something. Or you eat them every day for three months and can never look at them again. Once you’re past that period, there’s a magical unicorn stage called the second semester where everything evens out, you’re able to enjoy food, have energy. If all pregnancies were only second trimesters, everyone would have ten kids. But, soon enough, you’re in you’re third, feeling like a beast but barely eating. The idea of food no longer turns you off, in fact, it sounds quite nice but, a few bites in, you have to stop yourself. If you don’t, you’ll end up sick again. There’s no room for anything to go anywhere, including that piece of craved cake. Which leads me to…

Heartburn and indigestion! Much like the mole epidemic, I never had experience with either of these lovely symptoms. Welcome to pregnancy. I, now, lay awake at night, propped up, with, what feels like, a piece of Aladdin-sized bread (You know, the supersized one he steals from the scoundrels in the marketplace while singing “One Jump Ahead”.  Don’t tell me I’m the only Disney fan.)  lodged in my chest. Every night. No matter what I eat. And that’s not to mention, the burping, ridiculously loud sneezing… It’s as if an ogre with horrible manners has overtaken my body.

I can’t think of a better segue than sex. The movies, once again, have it wrong. We’re led to think that pregnant women are super horny. I have yet to meet one. We’ve already addressed how unattractive you’re feeling and everything that’s likely going on with you. What about any of that screams aphrodisiac? Extra weight, bad breath, smelly bowels, moles, acne, thinning hair, heartburn, sciatica, lightening crotch (Trust me, it’s thing.), propensity to puke… I don’t know about you but that’s hardly the picture of romance to me. The thing we haven’t talked about yet is how much your partner, at this point, will likely annoy you more than he or she ever has. The comments that come out of his mouth, his odor, the fact that his life and body has, up until this point, barely been effected, none of it is a turn on. And if you happen to have a brief moment of interest (I have the occasional sultry dream), the reality of you on top of him is a quick cold shower to your libido.

Besides the physical effects, the emotional and mental are pretty unpleasant too. Beyond the aforementioned advice in the intro, people suddenly feel free to comment on anything and everything from the size of your bump (and the rest of your weight- I was called “plump” by my daughter’s nanny on a weekly basis) to what you’re likely having based on how you’re carrying to actually touching your belly, without asking. Think about it, would anyone have ever touched your stomach before you were pregnant? That would’ve been a total violation of personal space and privacy. So why is it okay when you’re carrying a child?

No matter what you experience- or don’t- during this bizarre, beautiful, incredible nine months (and post), know that you’re not alone. It’s happening to all of us, some are just more open to talking about it than others. My mother, for instance, was horrified when I told her about this topic, which let’s me know I’m on the right track. It’s time to leave the 70’s behind, people. This is not your mother’s pregnancy. So speak up and out, often. You never know who also may be needing to talk about poop that day.

This article originally appeared on Mother Mag.