Post Partum TRUTH

It's time for a little dose of the TRUTH. It has been roughly seven months since I popped out a creature the size of a small watermelon. I'm not exaggerating - she was about eight and a half pounds, and the last watermelon I bought was just over eight pounds. That alone will destroy your body, let me tell you. I won't get into details because I think male members of my family read this and details will be awkward, not to mention details about that would be overshare in general even for me. But I will tell you this. You know how they say "it's what's on the inside that counts"? And you know how they say having kids changes everything? Well, you'll never be the same again. Ever. (Okay so it's only been seven months so that's not "forever" but I'm pretty sure this is permanent.) And no, exercises are not the cure. But although that was the biggest shocker and most disturbing thing I have found so far, there's a lot of other stuff they mislead you about or leave out or gloss over. For example, before I became an incubator, I had the general self image that I looked better naked than with clothes on - unfortunate since I'm not a stripper or adult film star. Not that I had the body of a stripper or adult film star or anything like that. (Okay reign it in, Lauren.) But I had proportions that made clothes fit less-than-perfectly, which made me feel awkward, which made me sit and stand awkwardly, which then made my already less-than-perfect proportions even less perfect looking. The absence of clothes sort of helped, in my opinion, because there wasn't fabric pushing and pulling and squeezing and mushing in all the wrong areas. But now, clothing allows me to conceal that abhorrent sack of skin attached to the front of me that refuses to retract, despite the lack of enlarged uterus and growing creature that made the exponential multiplication of skin surface area necessary. Clothing also allows me to mask my enlarged buttocks beneath tent-like "A-line" dresses and "flowy and tunic-like" tops. Clothing allows me to prop up my deflated, flattened, and sad bosom. Okay, you say, but everyone complains about that stuff. Yes, true. And they also tell you that a couple of months after you give birth or stop breastfeeding, or whenever (I stopped reading the WTE newsletter when it kept telling me that all my complaints were "normal" like that helps or something), you will begin to lose a lot of your hair. They tell you all sorts of scientific reasons and tell you that it may be alarming, and of course that it is normal. But then you start to literally see bald spots. And you find yourself sweeping up a wigful of hair twice a day (or if you're lazy like me you just notice a wigful of hair on the bathroom floor and try not to step on it with wet feet). You find that you are shedding more hair than your cat and you notice how very white your scalp is when it is bald. And if you're like me, and you had a lot of thick - too thick - hair your whole life, you start to panic even though you know it's "normal." You may read on websites that taking prenatal vitamins will help (it doesn't). You may find out that you should wash your hair with oatmeal (don't). You may ask your doctor and get a condescending smile. And just when you're starting to give Rogaine serious consideration...nope it's still falling out. (You thought I was going to say don't worry, it gets better.) But then you see little baby hairs coming in. And in a moment of irony you think, aw cute I'm growing hair just like [insert your baby's name here]. So even though your hair is falling out at an alarming rate, you can see that the condescending smile from the doctor was warranted (still annoying though). And you have a new hair style that accommodates patches of short hair spiking out randomly. One more ugly truth - you may notice that your skin is less elastic and just generally looks older. Although, if you're a younger mom than me you might be able to confirm my suspicion that this skin issue is not related to pregnancy and is actually related to the fact that I'm pushing 30 (and contrary to popular perception I did have bouts of sun-binging in my past life so there is probably some sun damage factoring in here). The unfair part about it though, regardless of whether that's a post-partum thing or an age thing, is that your hormones are still in flux (I just learned today they will be in flux for 2-3 years from the birth of your child - hooray for partners who have to weather that long-ass storm). Therefore you are prone to breakouts. But the most jacked up part of all of that is that you won't just have breakouts on your T-zone like in high school. Not even just your T-zone plus backne. If you're like me, you'll get pimples on your legs or earlobes - I even had one on my forearm. Gross. But you know that silly thing they say about your baby being worth it all? It's totally true. If your kid is as cool as mine (doubtful, but hopefully for you he or she will be a close second), you'll look at him or her and totally forget the insanely itchy skin during your pregnancy or the debilitating acid reflux (that you may still suffer from occasionally). You will not remember the elephant cankles you had, or the inability to stand more than ten minutes for fear of your hips collapsing. And by the time your baby is seven months of age, you may struggle to recall what a floppy newborn feels like in your arms. And beware because this is nature's trick! This amnesia is built into our minds and bodies the same way hunger and a fear of large toothy animals is. This amnesia is the only reason our species has survived. Because if the first cavewomen remembered how awful pregnancy was and how difficult the first few months of motherhood can be, they would not have had more than one child each. And then those first-borns would have been eaten by large toothy animals, and we would not be here. Instead, we forget all the awful stuff, we look at our child and think he or she is the greatest ever (too bad we all know mine is the greatest ever), and we think, "Wow, that wasn't so bad."