When we got married, my husband promised to love me for better or worse, for sicker or poorer until death do us part. I’m not exactly sure he understood that all this went for when I was pregnant. I guess for a pregnant woman I wasn’t very nice. As summer approached I became even less nice. I could not stand the heat. It didn’t matter what I did, I would find I was getting prickly rash or sunburned, even though I wasn’t out in the sun. To be honest, I didn’t even want to go out unless I had portable air conditioning that I could carry with me. Without air conditioning, I really was not a very nice pregnant woman. My husband bought a special window air conditioning unit just for our bedroom. He also had two fans hooked up in the bedroom so they were blowing at me from two different sides. He was thrilled at the idea that he only had to put up with this for two months, and I was dreading the next two months. I’m sure that if he could have switched places with me at that point, I would’ve jumped at the chance. Although he may have been gruff over my needing air conditioning all the time, I’m sure it would’ve been worse if he had been in my place. I can’t see him gaining 100 pounds in less than six months, while being kicked in the ribs and bladder for the next three months. I don’t think anything can be worse than being pregnant through the summer, and not having excellent air conditioning.