I was not one of those “glowing” pregnant women. Not even close. The only potential for glowing would have had to come from the millions of highly combustible particles orbiting my miserable, furious, fat head.
My pregnancy gave rise to the greatest joy of my life, but the months up to the arrival of my son were the most stressful I have yet to experience. Little man is now turning 2, which I hear means I’m in for a world of hurt in the very near future. As of this moment, however, pregnancy was the hardest thing I’ve been through, both physically and emotionally.