Three Bags of Shit

I went to the midwife empty handed. I came back with three bags of shit.

THREE BAGS OF SHIT, I TELL YOU!

I'll admit that it doesn't look like a great deal in this photo, but in reality it was horrific.

What I had to sift through, and what my council will now have to recycle, was 27 items including:

1. Mum Plus One Magazine - the most interesting thing I discovered from this glossy, handbag-sized load of tripe, was that getting married is still number three on the average woman's list of top ten things to do before they get pregnant. Taking part in an extreme sport was number 10.

2. Emma’s Diary – a week by week guide to pregnancy. The best thing to come out of this was the Tetley Decaf tea sample. I have taken immense satisfaction from knowing that I will never buy Tetley Decaf tea bags. Their advertising is wasted on me but thanks for the free cuppa.

3. You and Your Family magazine- supported by Asda - another magazine with exactly the same shit as the first two, just in a different order. Clearly for those who have lost all capability of thought. Ingenious suggestions such as "if you don't think you could cope with a baby on a plane, a domestic holiday is a good option".

4. Bounty – Your Pregnancy Magazine - Really? Another week by week guide to my pregnancy. Now you are really spoiling me. And how exactly is this one different to the other three I already have? Ah! I see. Some of the adverts are different....

5. Breastfeeding – You can do it! – sponsored by Bounty - well, sorry to piss on your bonfire but actually the chances of me being able to breastfeed are slim, despite your heartfelt encouragement.

6. The Sanatogen Guide to Nutrition - because I don't know what vegetables look like or what the words 'balanced' or 'diet' mean. And besides, why would I want to eat real food when I could take a pill?

7. My Pregnancy Diary courtesy of Pampers - Listen; I work, I blog, I child-rear, I eat, sleep and fuck and try to squeeze in some tapestry in between. I really don't have time to write a pregnancy diary!

The rest of the shit that was forced on me included adverts for Fairy, Photobox, Tesco, Next, Debenhams, Disney Scratchcards, A sample of Sudocreme (possibly mildly useful - I'll admit) and an HM Revenue and Customs Leaflet about a Health in Pregnancy Grant (apparently now you get £190 for jack shit - mines going on cocaine and prostitutes) and 'A Parent’s Guide to Money'. Oh yes and one last thing.........a sample of Ovaltine. This is just to remind you that your life is over, that you are officially old now and you should be in bed drinking Ovaltine.

In case you hadn't quite grasped my point I am very angry about Bounty packs.

I remember something similar from my previous pregnancy (which was not that long ago might I add). This consisted of one bag of shit. Now, less than two years later this has tripled. In another two years time you will be getting a wheelbarrow courtesy of Alan Titchmarshes Green-Fingered-Baby-Club, to wheel it home in.

Just because I am pregnant does not make me some kind of mindless vessel for your crappy advertising!

Did anybody consider the environment before they started this three-bags-of-shit routine?

Did anybody actually ask me if I wanted any of this?

No, of course they didn't. Because they assumed that getting married was number three on my list of 'Things to do before I got pregnant' and that sky diving was number 10, and that I need some asshole to tell me how to eat properly and that I might actually want to win a holiday to Disneyworld.

The moral of this story is: sometimes, even when you try to travel light, the world turns round and gives you three bags of shit to carry.