But there are the parts that no one tells you about. Or maybe these are the things that only happen to me, because I'm weird. Either way, here are some lessons from years of proximity to The Pregnant:
1. You will always say at least one Wrong Thing. Tuesday night, we were reviewing ultrasound photos at the dinner table (I am an awesome friend and therefore comfortable enough with my girlfriends to learn the complex topography of their wombs). I began to see shapes in the ultrasound clouds, and remarked upon those shapes. Note to self: Don't compare your friend's baby to a dragon's head.
2. Pregnant lady food is awesome. Seriously. There should be an entire restaurant of it! Tater tots, slathered in chili with cheddar cheese and sour cream on top? Awesome in theory, even better in practice. Of course, karmic justice being what it is, I'd probably get preggers and wind up developing a taste for normal food.
3. Pregnancy is a public-private partnership. So much of it, besides the belly, is public. A lot of this is because pregnant ladies will tell you more than you'd ordinarily ever want to know. (Been horking a rainbow of fruit flavors? If you're pregnant, I'll listen with patience and sympathy. Otherwise, ew ew ew gross ick shut up now before I shut you up!) But with all that information Out There, For Everyone to Know, it can be tricky to know what ought to remain private. Some couples don't want to give away the potential names, due date, sex, whatever. When in doubt, don't ask.
4. Have a mentioned that comparing a fetus to an eyeball within the dragon's head of a uterus is completely poor form?
In the comments, tell me the worst thing you ever said to a pregnant woman. Or, tell me if you've ever asked a non-pregnant woman when she's due, and tell me how you survived the incident.
PS - Between this post and the one about nausea, I'm sure there's a bit of suspicion going on...the answer is no, and I'll raise you to a hell no. Why? Because I'd have to be a World Champion Ovulator for that to be even remotely possible.
PPS - My hypothetical baby names? Union Carbide and Enron. They're gonna grow up tougher than that boy named Sue.