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Broken Nipples
-Kim, Kentucky
During my first pregnancy it seemed like I sometime forgot how to speak. Quite often the words that came out of my mouth were totally wrong. This was a bit of a problem because my job requires me to deal with the public and act in a professional manner.
One day, in my eighth month of pregnancy, I balanced my cash drawer while also handling rolls of coins. I accidentally dropped a roll of nickels back into my drawer and they scattered all over the place. Not thinking, I blurted out, "I just broke open my nipples!" I then heard all of my co-workers laughing. A man standing in line for me to wait on him was also trying to stifle a laugh.
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Worse than T.P. on the Shoe
-Stacy, New York
Excerpt from "Frankly Pregnant," the book.
During my first pregnancy it seemed that I had a never-ending supply of leucorrhoea or vaginal discharge. I found that panty liners tended to trap  in moisture and give me yeast infections so, I resorted to the use of toilet paper. Every time I went to the john, I would insert a fresh, neatly-folded rectangle in my underwear. By my seventh month, I was using about ten rectangles a day. After inserting rectangle number four one afternoon, I took a break from work and went to the bank. It was a Friday, and the long line of people with paychecks snaked out the door. When it was finally my turn to approach the desk and deposit my check, I felt dozens of impatient eyes burning holes in my back. Suddenly, the rectangle of t.p. shimmied down my leg and out of my pants. A man in a gray, pinstriped suit stepped out of line and, in one chivalrous movement, picked up the rectangle and handed it to me. I accepted it graciously and quickly folded over the stained tissue. I stifled my hysteria, exited the bank and bumped into a girlfriend in the parking lot. I could hardly contain myself enough to relay the story of what had really dropped onto the ground!
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Stinky Burps
-Stacy, New York
Excerpt from "Frankly Pregnant," the book.
While out to a business lunch one day, the waiter asked me what my selection would be. Hmmmm. Fried fish-? No, too greasy, scaly, smelly... nauseating. Pasta with sautéed tomatoes and garlic? No, too -acidy, slimy, garlic-breath-hell... nauseating. How about a cheeseburger-? Ick--greasy, heavy, meat-funky smelling... nauseating. Chicken soup? Bland, light, boring... perfect! I opened my mouth to reply, and produced a jarring, juicy burp. It must have reeked of stomach acids, because the waiter took two steps backward with the notepad over his face. I did feel a little better after dispelling some of my stomach gasses. At the time, I thought it was worth the embarrassment to have a little relief from the gripping feeling of sickness.
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Gushing Expenses
-Melissa, Georgia
Days of Braxton Hicks told me that my baby could come at any time. And let me tell you, I was ready! That Friday My hubby and I rode the subway on our way to have lunch together. Since there was only one seat available, I sat down and my husband stood to my left. A young, college student seated to my right eyed my huge belly and looked at my husband in a way that said, "I don't envy you!" As the train came to a stop more people got on. I began to feel a pressure down below like never before. All of a sudden I heard myself moan, "OOOOOHHHH! MY WATER BROKE!" Some people report a small trickle, but this was no trickle. This was a GUSH! College boy jumped up. "WHAT THE!?!"
Artwork by Shirley Chiang
I looked up at my husband and he had a deep furrow in my brow. Rather than tending to me, he began apologizing to the kid who was sitting beside me. At first I was hurt but, when I realized why, I understood. The kid's shoes were SOAKED!! So was the entire area where I was seated. Talk about humiliation! The entire train's eyes were on me. Luckily the hospital was only two stops down. That gave us just enough time to get the young man's name and phone number. Needless to say, the first check we wrote after the birth of our son was to a college student for a new pair of shoes!
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Farting on the Mood
-Lorraine, New York
My husband and I got frisky one night before bed. I tried my best to be as sexy as possible without looking like an almost eight-months-pregnant beached whale splayed out on the bed. My husband put his face down between my legs to pay some attention to his favorite area. While he was busy down there, I decided it was an opportune time to remove the rest of my undergarments. As I sat up a bit to unclasp my bra, a great big fart escaped from my rear end. My poor husband's face was right in the line of fire. He just paused for a second and then continued on with what he was doing, as if it never happened. I was completely and utterly mortified! I just wanted to die. My "mood" kind of flew out the window, but we somehow got through it and things ended up going the way they usually do. Later, we talked about it and had a good giggle.
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A Noisy Sonogram
-Emily, California
When I went for my 20-week sonogram I was suffering from horrendous, painful gas. My husband held my hand as the technician began. He pressed down on my stomach and a large and noisy gush of air escaped from my behind. The three of us froze. I soon noticed that my husband's hand was jerking and shaking. His mouth was shut tight and he was trying his best not to laugh. So was the technician!
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NOTE: Opinions and advice provided on this website are based on the personal experience of the author, Stacy Quarty. Ms. Quarty in no way claims to be a professional source of medical, psychological or statistical information.
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