Although my current level of interest in getting my “pre-baby body” back ranges somewhere between my interest in seeing the Hannah Montana movie on opening night and having my toenails removed with rusty pliers, it’s hard not think about how long it’s going to take to fit into anything but maternity clothes. To make myself feel a little better, I put my belly button ring back in today. Not that anyone – including E – is going to see it any time soon, but it’s a relief that a) it didn’t close so I have a scar but no hole and b) my belly button has retracted enough that I don’t have a third nipple at waist level.

I wrote this back on March 20th – before I was SO OVER pregnancy – but thought I would come up with more things once I actually wasn’t pregnant anymore. Turns out, not so much.

Despite all my belly-aching, being pregnant for the first time is amazing. There are a lot of things I will miss about it.

For the first time in my entire life, I have totally, effortlessly, clear skin. No drug, facewash, scrub or cream has EVER done as much for my face as pregnancy hormones. I haven’t worn real makeup in eight months. I can only pray this is a permanent change – I get to keep my stretchmarks, can I keep my new face too?

Feeling the baby move. Words cannot express how special (and weird) it is.

Everyone’s sudden concern for my health and well-being. “How are you?” isn’t just a polite question when you’re pregnant – people actually want to know.

Getting to say “cervix” on a regular basis. It’s a really fun word.

Sleeping. Naps. Resting. Lying down.

Eating pretty much anything I want without feeling a bit of guilt. I know “good” pregnant women spend the whole 9 months eating organic, all-natural, vegan beansprout and whole wheat sandwiches – thank God I am not one of them. I’m not looking forward to giving up french fries in the name of pants without elastic waists.

Turns out all of those seem totally worth giving up once you have an actual baby. I only have two things to add:

Nurses who let me close my eyes when they weigh me, because although your weight is a constant source of worry and discussion, pregnant-fat is indulged in a way fat-fat isn’t. I doubt they let me get away with using the kilo scale (everything sounds better in metric) at my 6 week check-up.

An excuse to never drive, not because I hate driving but because the baby has to sit in the rear seat, facing backwards. This is stupid. Blah blah blah safety blah blah airbags blah blah. Don’t you know this means you CAN’T SEE THE BABY from the front? Right now E is acting as chauffeur, but he has to go back to work eventually and I’m going to be totally screwed.