Cheeky lies we tell during pregnancy

The little white lies we tell when we’re pregnant, don't we all do it?

Pregnancy's little white lies

Be honest now, how many of these little gems sound oh so too familiar?

Woman hand over mouth

A few little white lies during pregnancy can’t hurt, can they? Hands up if you’ve used any of these…

‘I don’t know why I’m putting on so much weight – must be water retention.’ More like cake retention. This is practically the first time in my life I haven’t been trying to lose weight. I have licence to eat (for two) - and I’m going to make the most of it.

 ‘Oh yes, midwife, I’m eating lots of healthy food.’ I feel so tired after work all I can face is opening the fridge and grabbing the first thing I can see. Which is often chocolate. Or last night’s takeaway leftovers.

‘Oh yes, midwife, I’m practising my pelvic floor exercises every day.’ Remind me, where are my pelvic floor muscles?

‘I don’t mind what sex this baby is.’ It goes without saying that what I care most about is having a healthy baby. But if I’m really, really honest with myself, I’ve always wanted a….

‘Yes, I thought the morning sickness would be gone by now, too.’ Actually, I haven’t felt sick since 16 weeks, I just don’t want to visit your parents this weekend.

‘So sorry I forgot - must be baby brain.’ I knew I should have rung you mum, but couldn’t face yet another discussion about next door’s hedge/Dad’s driving/the vet’s bill.

‘I haven’t really thought about names yet.’ Actually, I’ve been scanning Best Baby Names books ever since I did the first pregnancy test and have a shortlist of 50. But I’m certainly not going to share them with you, especially if you’re pregnant too, in case you steal my ideas. I want the only Roman/Iris/Orlando/Apple in the playground.

‘Oh thank you – what a cute little outfit you bought.’ Yeah, if you want my newborn baby to look like a Victorian sailor about to salute the quarterdeck. I wonder if I can take it back without a receipt?

‘So sorry darling, the soft play centre is closed for the day.’ No it isn’t, it’s only 2pm. But I feel sick, my ankles are swollen and I really can’t face the thought of 70 screeching toddlers echoing round a giant play barn. 

‘I’m sure I’ll be back at work by six months, boss.’ I’m really going to try and make my money stretch to nine months’ maternity leave – maybe even a year if I’m careful. If I had my way, I’d never be back. 

Cheeky lies we tell during pregnancy