First of all, I am so ashamed. Okay? Embarrassed, humiliated, in shock over this. But it demands to be shared with you.
So, postpartum is as scary as being pregnant--except no glowing skin, no ripe belly, no endearing glances from experienced knowing mothers. There's the hair loss, which clogs my drain weekly. There's the excruciatingly slow weight loss, despite burning upwards of 2500 calories a day nursing (thank you, Mother Nature, for requiring nursing mothers to hold onto fifteen pounds of "milk storage" on our lower backs). There's the fact that though we do not actually have a period, postpartum nursing mothers enjoy a regular monthly cycle of the hormones.
WTF?
You may have heard stories of weak bladders after babies, and true, most of the time these stories are from veteran mothers who have had four or five kids. Well, my bladder sucks, and I only had one. To be fair, I had serious bladder trauma during labor--horrible catheter entry and exit, as well as a hospitalization for mastitis which required yet another catheter (this time without an epidural to make me not care what people did below my waist).
But my bladder really, really sucks now. It used to be awesome. Everyone else in my family have peanut bladders--not me. I had a great bladder. But not anymore.
Case in point: grocery shopping at Smith's on Monday night. See, I was there with Hannah and Finley, picking up some chocolate for our date with DirectTV... when I saw someone I did not want to see. So I did what any other normal human being would do--I ran and hid behind the flower display.
Hannah and I were giggling so hard. She managed to escape without being seen by this person, but I was trapped. I kept peeking out from behind the daffodils, watching this person pick out some frozen pizza, and when he finally turned down another aisle, I bolted across the store to where Hannah had found sanctuary.
Then I laughed. I laughed so hard that I kinda... sorta... peed my pants.
Not just peed a little. Like, I full on wet them. My socks were wet. I left a tiny puddle like a six year-old. Then I laughed some more.
Hannah just kept whispering to Finley, "Your mom just peed her pants like you pee in your diaper." Finley gave me a reproving look, that sobering one she gives when I'm being a dork.
We finished shopping, my poor legs all chafen and sore, and then Hannah made me sit on plastic bags in her car.
It actually did get worse when I realized that for Easter dinner, I had eaten about two and a half cups of asparagus.
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2 comments:
epic. completely and utterly epic.
You're wrong about us other moms not exchanging knowing glances about postpartum. I had 4 bouts of mastitis w/ Magoo and only fed her to two months because they said the next time would require hospitalization and incise/draining. I share in the hair loss but weight keeping - though I actually had hair growing on my lower NECK that I was praising GOD for letting me shed. And I had to see a urologist after T because I couldn't feel myself pee, my bladder was storing gallons at a time and then letting it out without warning - which I couldn't feel - and my pee would often shoot out at a spray-down angle.
In other words, we feel your pain.
But this story is fabulous, and it still makes me laugh...just as I laugh to think back on my bladder giving way while sitting on a chair at our (formerly) favorite restaurant. And I couldn't feel it. So suddenly I wonder why I'm sitting in a warm puddle and I can feel raindrops around my ankles.
Aaaaah, the good old days...
Glad to know someone else can relate! :)
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