You look into the mirror and find a pimple staring at you
`Ah the monthly curse,' you say. But its only a false cue.
You're nauseous and your appetite goes into hiding
Even your moods swing. But it is still `good tiding.'
No more junk food and caffeine, no more booze
`Sinful' they are: wine, cheese and chocolate mousse.
You get showers of free-of-cost words of wisdom
And old wives' tales that eventually drive you into boredom.
You are entangled in a web of what to do and what not to do
Murkoff's What to expect when you are expecting, you should turn to.
No more long drives, exotic holidays and late night flicks
Tis the season for ample sleep, back aches and braxton hicks.
Your tummy looks nothing less than a globe
Good news is: you have an excuse for a new wardrobe
You are treated to hubby-made snacks and tokens of love
And loads and loads of TLC, this part, you'll never tire of.