Every waking moment, a pregnant woman is bombarded with threats from the outside world. There are a million and one ways you could accidentally kill your unborn child on a day to day basis. It’s terrifying.

I suddenly feel so much sympathy for these helicopter moms, or whatever they’re called, the hoverers.

First of all, before I knew I was pregnant, I imbibed. Heavily. On the regular. I would say I went out for drinks probably 4 or 5 nights and got tipsy a few of those times before I took a pregnancy test. We weren’t planning on a kid and the possibility never really crossed my mind.

Secondly, I wasn’t just exercising, I wasn’t jogging in cute little lululemon pants. I wasn’t doing yoga sitting on a mat in a perfectly coifed ponytail with my eyes closed as I fell deeper into the breathe. No, I was lifting more than my body weight in push jerk, double under jump roping, practicing and failing and falling while trying to get a muscle up, doing 21 burpees a minute.

As my dad would say, I was “exercising violently.” Like always.

Big pregnancy no-no’s. Overheating. Jumping around. Getting PR’s in anything.

Then, I found out. And no matter how good of a mom I swear I’ll be, I still feel like I suck. I’ve read half the internet yet I still know nothing about nothing.

I get home at the end of the day and I’m just like, oh my god, I forgot to order my coffee decaf, were there like 7,000 milligrams of caffeine in that drink! Does this mean my baby going to be born premie????

Someone offers me a sandwich and I take it and eat it, and don’t realize until afterwards that deli meat is on the pregnancy no-fly zone.

Ginger causes miscarriages? Great, just ate gobs of it pickled on my (non-raw-fish) sushi. Thought I was doing good there, OOPS.

Also definitely inhaled prohibited amounts of toxic chemicals while cleaning the bathroom.

The list goes on an on, it’s enough to make a woman want to go full hermit. Somebody get me a bubble suit, stat!

At the end of the day when I come home and collapse into bed, I pat myself on the back before falling asleep. Every day in the life of a pregnant woman is the equivalent of surviving the apocalypse.