tipping the scales

and no, i don’t mean the whale sling they have to bring in to get my weight at my prenatal appointments.  incidentally, having 2 kids back to back is about as good for the waistline as staring in the remake of Super Size Me. 
yep, that’s me after two back-to-back pregnancies. i guess i’ll have to see a colorist soon.
 
what i actually mean when i refer to tipping the scales is the unnatural phenomena that happens to pregnant women around 35 weeks.  i am so used to seeing myself in the mirror that i guess i didn’t notice the slowly forming “i am *bleseping* miserable” that showed up on my face.  or maybe my sausage toes and fingers (and don’t forget the chipmunk cheeks) are startlingly noticable to the people i run across.  twice just today i’ve heard a variation on the theme “you look like you are about to pop!”   yeah, i feel like it too.
it must be so much the big pregnant elephant in the room that people can’t stop the words from coming out of their mouths.  i could have sworn that i read a chapter on this in the secret code of women. 
 
speaking of reading, i have been glancing back through jenny mccarthy’s “belly laughs” from time to time to remind myself i am not the only person who has ever been nearly 37 weeks pregnant.  if i could have just one wish today, i’d wish that i had half the notoriety of jenny mccarthy, so people would listen to me break it down for them.  jenny does a rock ’em, sock ’em job of telling the pregnancy story, but what about the myriad of ‘ish that happens after the baby is born? 
 
i get it that as new mommy’s we are enchanted with these little miracles that we’ve been growing from a seed to a watermelon over the last 10 months.  i was indeed smitten and over the moon with my little nugget, but no matter how tired i was i never lost conscientiousness and cognitiveness about the crazies that were happening to my body.  if you got pregnant after me and we are friends, there is a good chance i already tried to send you a smoke signal about this body drama.  if you are not pregnant and thinking about getting pregnant… read at your own risk. 
 
the very first thing i noticed and WHY did no one tell me about this: spoiled milk.   i wish to you that i was just refering to coming home from the hospital to realize that you can’t have your fruity pebbles because all the milk in your house has gone bad.  but, no.  i am talking about the eau de toilette that oozes out of the pores of bfing women.  i remember going to the va for a drs appointment a week or so after j was born.  i would swear to you that everyone within a 10 foot radius had to get up a move because i smelled like a gallon of old milk left out all day in the middle of summer.  it’s gross, it happens, and no amount of perfume or bathing will get rid of it.  it does go away eventually, but it’s not pretty folks.  just not pretty.
 
the next and MOST DISTURBING thing about the post partum period is the uterus flopping.  i cannot confirm that this is a symptom that faces all women or if it’s just c-section women or if it’s just lucky weirdos like me.  i swear to you, it is so disconcerting that i am thinking about writing a screen play and submitting it to stephen king.  this shit will haunt your dreams.  after i had my son i had to lay flat on my back for a week or so because of the c section pain.  once the c section pain subsided, i was able to go back to the side lay position that i grew so fond of during my pregnancy.  the thing i was not prepared for?  the uterus flop.  i don’t know why this happens (my best educated/scientifically unfounded guess- that your uterus pushes all your organs out of the way and it takes a while for everything to get back to wear it belongs).  all i know is that when i rolled over to my side i LITERALLY FELT MY UTERUS flop to the side i was laying on.   i am exceptionally glad that i have internal organs and that they all function correctly, but i do not now or ever care to have knowledge of their day-to-day movements.  *shudder*  you’ve been warned.
 
i won’t even get into the night sweats because they are just like what they sound like.  my only suggestion for anyone who will eventually be post-partum is to sleep on a towel so that when you wake up soaked to the core- you can ditch the towel and sleep on dry sheets or another dry towel.  you don’t need pnemonia in addition to taking care of a newborn.  
 
now that we have covered the utterly disturbing, we can cover the downright commical: the caverness belly button.  my belly button never became an outie because i swear my skin was so stretched to capacity that there wasn’t enough spare skin to let it go out.  however, after my stomach went back to normal (only far more bulldogs face looking), my belly button had to be a full 4 inches deep.  i was certain that keebler elfs were spalunking in there.  what the hell they were hunting for i will never know.  the inside is all bruised looking too and there isn’t much that can be done to make you feel better besides make sure that all of your mirrors only catch the top 1/3 of your body. 
 
i’ll save all my other pearls of wisdom horror for later on entries.  i don’t anyone to have nightmares. 
 
 
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1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Renae
    May 02, 2011 @ 01:42:12

    I DID get the outie at the end of my pregnancy. Let me tell you it’s kinda gross, I mean I had to clean it, those parts had never seen the light of day, nor good old fashioned soap 😉

    Reply

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