Pregnant Days

Week 20: Vaginal Discharge & Perfumed Sanitary Towels

It’s time to talk about vaginal discharge. If this topic “totally grosses” you out then all I can say is “catch yourself on” in my best Jim McDonald voice. All women get it to some extent. But, pregnant women bring vaginal discharge to a whole new level. If vaginal discharge were a sport they would be Olympians.

Their body is going doolally with hormone changes especially the vagina. The NHS puts it better than I can, “during pregnancy the cervix (neck of the womb) and vaginal walls get softer, and discharge increases to help prevent any infections traveling up from the vagina to the womb.”

Herself is embarrassed by this new change.
“My feckin’ knickers are ruined. I can’t go on like this… maybe I can get signed off from work and just draw the curtains.”
“No doctor will sign you off for twenty weeks because of vaginal discharge.”
“Well they should!”

Defeated she bought a pack of sanitary towels yet she made the huge mistake of getting perfumed pads.

Fanny pad companies aka sanitary towel multinationals have managed to create the most disgusting perfume to mask a vagina’s odour. I’m sure it’s called Eau du we hate vaginas oh la la. If people didn’t know you were discharging like a waterfall then they sure as feck know once they get a bang of that nasty cheap chemical perfume.

If you wash daily then I don’t understand the need for a perfumed pad. I get the need for a pad because things can get uncomfortable down there (if you’ve never been pregnant or are a man then your mind will be blown at how much a vagina can produce… it’s like pissing your pants).

I realise that I am talking about perfumed pads and vaginal discharge ad nauseum because it really bothers me the message it gives out. A woman’s natural smell is somehow bad yet why don’t these companies make perfumed envelope type pads for a penis and scrotum… unless it smells of spring flowers down there all the time? I’ve no idea, I’m a lezzer after all.


Pregnant Days

Week 19: This Women’s Magazine HATES Women

Herself has started to breathe like Darth Vader. At first I thought the dog was sick but when I looked for him he was outside. It was just herself in the kitchen reading her magazine and drinking tea whilst breathing heavily.

“Have you got a chest infection love?”
She looked up at me. The title emblazoned on the cover of the magazine that she was reading said THE 20 MOST BEAUTIFUL CELEBRITIES OF ALL TIME THAT LOOK AMAZING PREGNANT.” It’s interesting how the adjective to describe pregnant women changes from hot to beautiful, can’t have people thinking pregnant women have sex. The media wants them to puritanical wholesome baby vessels.
“You just seem a bit chesty, I want to make sure you’re alright.”
“The baby is squatting on my lungs you idiot.”
And on your happy thoughts too apparently. I decided to change the topic.
“You hate this stuff.”
“Come on, humour me!”
“OK, but you can’t interrupt me until I say I’m finished reading, OK?”

She took another deep breath and flipped the page. She really sounds like a dirty feck listening to porn on the phone whilst fondling herself. Then she spoke in her reading voice*, “Pregnancy did wonders for Nicole’s skeletal frame — we wonder if bringing new life into the world may have saved her own life. She certainly seems a lot happier these days.” In other words if you’ve issues with your mental health just get pregnant and you will be saved from yourself.

“Pregnancy was just what hard-edged Gwen Stefani needed to soften up a bit. It takes quite the glamorous woman to pull off a moo-moo-esque maternity dress like this one.” In other words if you’re not pregnant you’re a cold vapid woman.

“Some fashion models might be a little put off by early weight gain during pregnancy, but Alessandra seemed to be loving it, which only made her look that much more beautiful.” I looked at the photo of pencil thin Alessandra and realised that this magazine hates women.

“OK, I’m finished reading. God I’m so ugly and huge,” she sighed. I looked at my normal shaped, gorgeous partner and shook my head.
“These toxic publications are insidious slime that pit women against each other.”
“I know, I know… my clothes don’t fit me, even my bloody tracksuit bottoms. I just feel like my body isn’t mine anymore.”
Instead of telling her that she was stating the bloody obvious, I did the next best thing.
“If you promise me that you will never buy trash like that again I will give you my card to go clothes shopping with your sister today.”
“I promise I will never buy them again” She snatched my card from my hand and made for the car.

*We all have a reading voice. It’s like you’re giving a reading in a church, proper speech like.

Pregnant Days

Week 18: Birth Anxiety + Does GentleBirth work?


Herself has been struck down with round ligament pain but she has to struggle on, bills to pay etc. Being pregnant just seems like a constant war with your body. A dark line has started to appear on herself’s tummy which has her freaking out that it will never go away. Personally I’d be more freaked out about pushing a baby’s head out my vagina but I always keep that opinion to myself as she’s getting antsy about the baby’s birth too.

“I think we should watch One Born Every Minute to prepare ourselves for the big day.”
“Sounds like a great plan babe.”

We set aside all of Saturday to watch several seasons of One Born Every Minute. We both sat there with our pens and notepads, poised to be model students. We would of preferred to watch a Christmas film whilst scoffing chocolates but alas. With hindsight we had no idea what Pandora’s box of anxiety that show would take us on.

The feisty Liverpudlian permanently tanned midwives coaxed out too many babies with their no nonsense attitude.
“I can’t do it!” Screams too many women in pretty much every episode as they writhe in agony.
“Yes you can,” says the Liverpudlian midwife sternly. Cue close up of head crowning which prompted us to cross our legs. I assumed that because I am a woman I would understand her labour needs more but I don’t have a clue just like the majority of the men in the show.

She turned off the TV. Her face had drained of colour as had mine. Privately I was so happy that she had to go through this.
“I can’t do that Birdie.”
“But you have to babe.”
“I’m having palpitations here at the thought… God I feel I’m going to shit myself with the fear.”
“I read somewhere that it’s not uncommon to shit yourself in labour.” I added unhelpfully as her face betrayed.
“Maybe I can get knocked out?” I held back from telling her that back in the day some women were given alcohol intravenously to aid the labour process – MENTAL.
“I don’t think so… maybe text Siobhan or your sister?” She nodded and texted furiously. I was shocked that I gave a good suggestion for once.

10 seconds later her phone started beeping. She started reading the texts.
GentleBirth, she mumbled as she continued to read.
“Well we’d all like that but it’s a contradiction. It’s like me saying I’m an occasional alcoholic.”
“The girls swear by it.”
She downloaded the app and has been listening to the guidance daily. To be fair I was proved wrong. Herself has gone from someone that dreaded childbirth to a woman that is confidant in what her body is capable of doing. A strong calmness has descended upon her. It’s pretty awesome to witness and has made me very proud of her.