So now that it's almost three (three?!) months since I gave birth, I think it's time to revisit that ugly thing called TRUTH - more specifically, the truth about POST-pregnancy. Be forewarned - this can get gross.
The "lochia" bleeding they tell you about is nothing like a period. It's like an ellipsis. (For those unfamiliar, that's the dot-dot-dot.) An ellipsis in font size 48. Luckily at the hospital they give you these enormous pads that make Depends look like Poise panty-liners, and if you get the heads-up (this is your heads-up) you can be sneaky and put four more in your overnight bag every time you change the one you're wearing so you can keep telling the nurse you need more, and then when you go home, you'll have all the extra you need. You'll need lots of extra.
Here's one good thing, though. As soon as you check in when you're in labor, they make you change out of your clothes (wait, the good part is coming) and they give you these disposable panties. "Uh, where's the good part?" you ask. That is the good part. These disposable panties are SO comfortable you wonder WHY someone doesn't market them and sell them at Walgreens. The nurse hands them to you and you look at her like, "What is that?" But they are the most perfect combination of tight enough to hold that ginormous pad in place and stretchy enough that there is NO binding or creasing. It's like a hug for your bottom from your fat aunt - perfectly firm yet squishy. These too, you can stock up on if you strategerize, since they're supposed to be disposable.
But I'm just getting started.
When they say you won't sleep because of the feedings and the diapers and the blahblahblah, you can't quite wrap your mind around that fact until you're a week in and you feel like you just might die (and then you think, "Well at least I'll be asleep then..."). They don't tell you that feeding her every two or three hours means: 6AM wake up, change diaper, start feed. Feed till 6:20 maybe, if your baby suckles frantically as if you never feed her. Rock until 6:45AM, baby is FAST asleep, mouth agape, limbs limp. 6:45 and 35 seconds, put baby into cradle, mouth agape, limbs limp. 6:46AM fall into bed exhausted, but unable to fall asleep instantly because there is so much racing through your mind (SleepNowBeforeSheWakesUp-Laundry-ShouldIShowerNow-GottaShaveMyLegs-SleepNowDammit-OhCrapDidIFeedTheCatThisWeek-SeriouslySleepRightNOW-OhYeahI'mKindaHungry-NahIt'sOkay-GoToSleep!). 6:48AM baby startles awake - rock again until 7:06AM and think about the fact that two months ago you thought waking up for work was tough. 7:07AM gingerly put baby back in her cradle and force yourself to lie down with your eyes closed even if you can't sleep, and then end up sleeping. Until 8AM when you wake up to do it all over again. And even then, you're excited that you got almost a full hour of sleep.
It gets better, and it gets better pretty fast actually. But at the time you really do think to yourself, "What was I thinking?" And then you think that you are a terrible person and the worst Mommy ever just for thinking that, as if feeling overwhelmed and desperate automatically means you also feel regret (it doesn't). As if feeling a tiny bit of regret means you would take it back (it doesn't, and regret isn't the right word for it anyway). You also find yourself really angry at all the people who told you that "EVERYTHING changes" as if they were supposed to expound on that fact to make you truly comprehend what that means. There is no way to describe how every moment of every day for the rest of your life is now completely changed forever - not just your responsibilities, but also your perspective, your priorities, your freedom (and your perspective on what freedom means), your friends, your interests. Sure, you're going to mostly have the same friends and interests - but somehow everything is just different. Some things will be much more interesting than you ever thought possible (to me it was poop, for example) and other things will just seem boring (like my old hobby - drinking). For me, anyway, that "different" feeling was shocking and terrifying. If you're anything like me, you might feel a little grief for the life you didn't even realize you were saying goodbye to - and if you're like me, you may mistake this grief for a feeling of regret or a feeling that you want that old life back instead, and then feel an immense and intense feeling of guilt for that. But mourning your "old life" does not mean you want a do-over - it's just that such a significant change can be hard to adjust to no matter how mentally prepared you thought you were - especially when you're getting no sleep.
So, throughout pregnancy you're thinking, "Oh God I'm this hulking monstrous waddling flesh-ball, I can't wait to be normal-sized again." And people tell you that you won't shrink back to prepregnancy size magically. And you can accept that. But what they don't tell you is that you deflate like a balloon, slowly and lopsidedly (and sometimes just as noisily...) but you have been stretched beyond imagination in so many places and unless you're 14 your skin is not as elastic as a balloon. If you are fortunate enough to have a Sugar-Nazi for an ob/gyn like I was, and if you breastfeed even just for a couple weeks, your belly will mostly deflate pretty quickly. But you'll be left with gross skin that seems darker than before (not tan, just darker) and also wrinkled and saggy like an old elephant's butt. You'll be glad to see your ankles do in fact still have bones, as do your feet, but then you'll realize your thighs look still-pregnant when contrasted above thin-again ankles even when separated by knees and calves. That linea negra that could have been called a badge of honor now just looks gross and uneven. And if you breastfeed, then ten seconds after you stop breastfeeding (if you're lucky this will be MUCH later when all these other things have probably resolved themselves) your boobs will NOT return to pre-pregnancy size and shape. They will be decidedly lower, flatter, and sadder. Your butt will shrink but not back to its cute round self - it will just deflate and become that flat but wide "mom-butt."
You may also find yourself wanting to spit in the face of anyone who tries to say the K-word (K...egel) around you.
There's more, but I think that's a decent dose of truth, at least for now. But you know what. This is cliche, but, it's all worth it. When you look at your baby sleeping (you always love them most when they're sleeping) and you take the time to notice little things like how her toes wiggle almost constantly even in her sleep, and you stop and think about the fact that very, very soon, she will be a little person with opinions, questions, hopes and fears, you know that even if each day is a challenge it is a challenge you want to cherish and relish and remember.
And that is the most important truth of all.
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