Let me start off by writing, I'm not currently pregnant (that picture above was taken 18 months ago) but I too clearly remember the pressures I felt when I was (both times) by myself, the media, everyone around me with an opinion as I seemed to become public property (irrespective of this blog) with daily editorial judgments from usually joe bloggs off the street, ranging from, "You don't look pregnant to you're about to pop, right" to "Is it twins?"
If there wasn't enough anxiety-filled pressure when you're pregnant (big bump, little bump, too much weight, not enough) once you pop that baby out or have him airlifted as I did twice, first an emergency, second an elective (the latter a whole other set of pressures, of which I ignored wholeheartedly) you are quickly, at least with first baby anointed with parenting pressures.
My first pregnancy was pretty tough with daily vomiting continuing until I was 28 weeks. Not fun. At. All. It also meant living on walkers, dry biscuits and dairylea (whatever I could stomach) daily and sadly no exercise (even a ride in the car induced puking).