Enough is Enough

by Hannah Kessler

Nobody really prepares you for how long pregnancy feels. Due a little girl in May, co-producer Hannah has had enough. These two humorous poems express their frustrations with the difficulties, double standards and unsolicited advice from conception to birth.


A Pregnant Pause 

“Rest while you can” they say 

But I forfeited that right 

The moment those two lines told me

What I had both feared and hoped for


“Don’t put too much pressure on yourself” they say

While questions abound

Asking if I’ve painted the nursery

Bought a pram 

Kept up with my exercise 

Started nesting 

Eaten enough fruit and veg 

Kept up with friends

Started journaling 

Gone to work 

Tidied up 

And have I tried yoga? 




“Follow your cravings,” they say 

“But don’t eat too much sugar,

Or tuna

Or mango. 

Cook your meat right through.

Sushi is forbidden

A little bit is okay

No pate though 

And no liver

There’s too much vitamin A. 

My mum drank through her pregnancy,

And well I turned out fine.

But could you risk your child’s wellbeing

For a night on the wine?” 

All of it descends at once 

And suddenly I know words 

Like “subchorionic haemorrhage”

And “hyperemesis gravidarum” 

And “gestational diabetes”

And I’m having to make decisions like 

Will I consent to having a rod inserted into my cervix

Or would I prefer abdominal surgery? 


Judgements are disguised as questions 

“You named her without meeting her?”

“You plan to sleep train her?” 

“You will return to work before a year?”

“You got vaccinated?”

“You aren’t enjoying the experience?”

“What’s it like being the only person in your friend group to be pregnant?” 

“Are you scared?”


Very soon 

I will hold the girl 

Whose veins are filled with my blood 

And the first thing I will teach her 

Will be to pay prying bastards no mind.

Plain Crackers in Bed

First 12 weeks, 

What a write-off. 

Bent over bowl 5 times a day 

My measly offerings to that porcelain alter 


They joke 

“They call it morning sickness, 

But more like any time sickness, amirite?”

A weak nod in response 

“More like all the time sickness” I offer. 

“You know what helped my mum?” 

I can already guess the answer 

I mouth along as they triumphantly say 


“Plain crackers in bed” 

This well-meaning individual may not have known 

That boxes of Carrs and Jacobs covered the floor beside my bed, like fallen autumn leaves. 

Unable to sit, reaching my arm down the side of the bed, and grabbing the first box I can find. 


Chomping on the tasteless, mushy, paste

So dry first thing in the morning. 

I turn to my husband and snarl 

“I hate plain crackers in bed” 

“Would you like some eggs instead?” 


Now he’s done it.

I’m up now, sprinting across the landing

Mouth still full of dry cracker paste

Filling up with saliva  


Bye bye plain crackers. 

They swirl down the bowl. 

They make no difference to me at all. 

Created by Hannah Kessler

Instagram: @hannahrkay