Nicole Richie is going to catch so much shit for hottubbing while pregnant. Poor thing.
No, I mean it, poor thing. She's not my favorite person in the world, but jeez, a pregnant lady has every right to ease her aching joints and swelling feet in some hot water once in a while. I know I did. What's the difference between taking a warm bath, and sitting on the steps of a swanky jacuzzi (I mean aside from the obvious - that one is a sloshing, bubbly mess that barely contains the pregnant body and the other is actually relaxing)? Nothing, except that you're going to catch a bunch of shit for doing one. It's a no-no.
Hey, while we're on the subject of physician-mandated no-no's, let's see a show of hands: Who ate sushi while pregnant? (Me! Sticking mainly to California Rolls and tempura rolls, but occasionally sampling the spicy tuna that my husband got to hog-wild on alone for nine months). Who drank the occasional glass of wine? (Me!) Who drank more than the occasional beer? (Me! I craved beer in all its icy-cold, bubbly, yeasty glory.) Who traveled outside of the continental U.S.? Who drank coffee, who ate Brie, who jogged, who sat in the hot tub, who carried on with their life as though they were totally healthy and happy and who turned out just fine? Me! Me! Me! Me! Me!... (So did the babies. For the record.)
Man, I realize that warning pregnant women about the possible risks or side effects of engaging in certain activities or eating certain foods is for the common good, and is the responsible thing to do. But seriously - isn't about time we cooled it with the fear-mongering and the ultimatums and the scare tactics? True story: a pregnant friend of mine told me that last week, she'd told her intake nurse that she drinks a glass of wine while cooking dinner every evening. And that nurse called C.P.S. on her. I'm not kidding.
This is what things are coming to. Look out, Nicole. You're screwed.
