Here are my pregnant confessions:
Confession #1: I've used my preschooler as a cover for visiting the restroom.
Yes, I've grabbed my 4-year-old's hand and taken her with me to the restroom because I didn't want it to look like I was the one who had to pee so urgently she couldn't sit through 10 more minutes of church. I'm a grown woman with a bladder compressed to the size of a chickpea right now, and my preschooler is my smokescreen.
Confession #2: I've cut in line because "I'm pregnant."
I'll also accept the offer of the lady in line at the restroom to go ahead of her, fully realizing she assumes it's the cute preschooler at my side (and not me) who needs to go. I'm not lying exactly, it's just that she's not asking and I'm not telling. Thanks anyway, though, lady. You're still preventing an accident, you just don't realize for which one of us.
Confession #3: I've forgotten how far along I am on multiple occasions.
When you finally become so gigantic that it's safe for strangers to assume you're pregnant, everybody starts asking about it. Everybody. And quite often, when the woman at the post office counter guesses how many days, weeks, or months I have left to go, I'll just say "yep, good guess" because I can't remember.
Confession #4: I let people carry heavy things for me.
Pregnant women can run marathons (hello, childbirth is a marathon) and generally be amazing, but there are a surprising number of people out there who assume we aren't supposed to lift anything heavier than a Kleenex. I've let the kindly grocery bagger help me out to my car and unload the bags into the trunk, not because I have a medically valid excuse, but simply because I hate unloading groceries. I can only get away with this because I'm a million weeks pregnant.
Confession #5: I've lied about why I'm eating to my children.
In my non-pregnant state, I'm forced to eat my secret candy or have a second helping of dessert while hiding in the closet or after the kids go to bed. But when I'm pregnant? Right out in the open, in front of everyone. I've also taken the last handful of chips in the bag because "the baby needed it," an explanation the kids accept at face value. I don't even think I feel bad about this.
I apologize if this list spoils it for other women out there who also do these things secretly while they're pregnant. If you want to talk to me about it, you can probably find me waiting in line for the restroom at the library. I'm the one with the preschooler who looks slightly confused about why she's there.