'Your vagina will swell so big you won’t be able to sit on it.'
'You’ll wee yourself daily so invest in - and start wearing - adult diapers.'
'Prepare to beg for death in the third trimester as you slowly lose control of all your bodily functions, along with your dignity, self-respect and ability to hold in a poop.'
Watch: Be a "good" mum. Post continues below.
These are just a few of the things I’ve been told will inevitably happen to me in the last twelve weeks of pregnancy.
You see, I’m a new mum-to-be; 20 weeks pregnant and feeling the incredible bliss of trimester two.
I’ve started creepily watching my husband sleep at night (whilst whispering ‘I love you’ at his face), caught myself crying in the newborn aisle at Target and, this week, started feeling the first tiny flutters of my new best friend.
And while I’ve read, watched and heard enough to know that the next three months aren't exactly pregnancy nirvana for most, I really want to enjoy this experience without thinking of the apparent black hole of death that’s waiting for me on the other side.
Despite faking meetings, calls and bathroom emergencies to get out of fear-mongering conversations at work, every horror delivery story, water birth plan courtesy of your doula and maternal mortality rate URL has been shared with me, despite never asking for it.