Hate on, sun worshippers, because I really don't like summer and I really don't like July, which is the worst summer month there is. It's hot and sticky and gross and the fact that I had to go through that miserable month pregnant only made it worse.

The smell alone, even the most unobtrusive smell, can be overwhelmingly nauseating for a pregnant nose. Add to that the fact that sweating (and you will sweat when you're pregnant, even if you usually aren't particularly prone to schvitzing) will likely mean that, at some point, you're going to taste the sunscreen and, well, it's the worst. Even under normal circumstances sunscreen is a pain in the you-know-what, but even more so when you're pregnant.

But put it on anyway, friends, because sunscreen is clutch.

First of all, your body is different and that's always a mindf*ck, even when there's a perfectly logical explanation like, say, you're growing a human. But there are compounding issues on top of that. Like... where do you get a maternity bathing suit? OK, but, like, a good one that doesn't cost a million dollars. (Who wants to spend a ton of money on something you're only going to wear a handful of times?) Also do you need a maternity bathing suit? Can you skate by with your regular one? It's just one more quandary you don't want to deal with right now.

This one took me as a surprise because I thought, "Well, I might be pregnant as hell in the summer, but at least I can just live in sundresses and over-the-top kaftans." False. First of all, my massive pregnant boobs made it very difficult to find good, work appropriate sundresses. Second, I did not take into account swamp crotch. Yes, the horrible sensation that there's a miniature Everglades between your legs is made much worse when it is not contained in a pair of pants. Not only are you self-conscious, but it just feels super sweaty and uncomfortable. So you're stuck in the position of feeling cooler, but swampy or stuffed into pants and shorts all summer long. It blows.

All that quick growing luxurious hair on your head is just part of your hair story these days. The hormones that are making your locks so shiny and thick are also working their magic everywhere else. And, hey, if you're someone who doesn't mind or likes body hair: fabulous! You're under zero obligation to do anything about it. But if you, like the vast majority of American women, perform some kind of depilatory to appear sleek and smooth like a beautiful hairless lizard person, then pregnancy is going to make your summer a damn chore.

Which, if you're anything like me, is a switch from being a few drinks deep at 4th of July picnics.

No, I'm not French, but who's going to pass up the opportunity to celebrate a day when people took to the streets to unify against an oppressive government to storm a Parisian prison? My friends and I would drink wine and eat bread and soft moldy cheese and do all manner of stereotypical French stuff in Central Park... and I couldn't when I was pregnant because my first time around (when I was pregnant in the summer) I abstained from wine and soft cheese and fie upon this altered physical state that keeps me from my beloved camembert!

OK, I promise I don't have a drinking problem, but can we just please be honest that refreshing beverages and day drinking are part of what make the summer so enjoyable? Like, yes, there are other things, but this is a big one. And here's the thing: those other things are also made difficult by a pregnancy!

This is particularly acute if you're in your last trimester in the summer (which I was) and you have to start worrying about the possibility of going into labor. Do you need special dispensation from your care provider to travel? Do you need to make special arrangements? If you fly, will the airline even let you travel? And if you can go, do you want to take that risk? Like, even if it's not statistically a particular risk? BUT WHAT IF SOMETHING HAPPENS WHILE YOU'RE AWAY?! There's just no winning without some worry.

The struggle is real... and so is the fact that this baby feels like it's pressing down entirely on your bladder, which you could swear is shrinking.

I've never understood people who revel in heat. All those Florida people who are like, "OMG! Connecticut winters! Y'all are out of your minds!" No, you are the ones who are grievously wrong, because anything over 78 degrees leaves me cranky. When you factor in the scientific fact that being pregnant makes you 900 degrees hotter, summer is unbearable when you are with child. It's just so uncomfortable and irritating. I spent three miserable months cranky AF.