No joke. For years all I’ve heard is that birth is a beautiful thing, a “miracle,” if you will. And the bonding that a mother and child have during the first few months is priceless.
I can’t argue with these statements. However, I will also add that it’s a “miracle” that we moms forget about the delivery and first few months enough to want to do it again and again with subsequent children. And the “bonding” is often skewed and blurred by exhaustion and days of built up residue from the inability to shower more than twice a week.
You’re told you’ll be tired. It’s an understatement. But you’re also plagued by the hopes that you’ll “sleep when he does” during the day and be able to make up for what you lost at night. Heh.
That beauty of breastfeeding you’ve been hearing all about? All lies. It’s messy, and painful, and hilarious… and frustrating. More often than not you’re covered in milk from boob to knee and those breast pads sometimes end up looking like a fully loaded toddler diaper after a full night’s sleep. Maneuvering public feeding is damn near impossible, and you’ll never get the thought out of your head that even though you’re “covered” by that cape, your father-in-law still knows that your boob is exposed under there. This topic is so lied about, in fact, that I plan to do an entire separate post on this.
You’re told your body “won’t be the same.” Again, a true statement, but never given more than that vague blanket statement, leaving out the gory details regarding your shapeless truck driver figure and the loss of every muscle that ever existed in your body. Muscles that you never even knew you had until one day after delivery you touch your body and your finger gets sucked in by raw bread dough.
You’ll bleed. No, not just right before and during delivery, but EVERY DAY for weeks. Bleeding and pain that requires pads thicker than those diapers you’re putting on that brand new baby bum. Pain that takes an ice pack an hour (on top of that pad) to keep the burning at bay. Oh, and I’ll only quickly mention the Tucks medicated pads. Let’s just say I owe my vaginal life to those cool wet miracles… and we’ll leave it at that.
The spray bottle. Ever heard of it? If you’re not a mom, you probably haven’t. No one told me that I would be relying on a water bottle to do most of the “wiping” for me until the stitches were healed and the bleeding was final. Word to the wise, remember to hide it from the bathroom counter when guests arrive.
Hormones. Don’t be fooled ladies. Birthing that baby doesn’t automatically relieve you from the douchebaggery of first and third trimester. Those hormones have to re-regulate themselves. And add on sleep deprivation and feeling fat to this? Recipe for wifezilla.
Pooping. This was the death of me during both of my pregnancies. But what they do not tell you is that it can be just as bad after pregnancy. In the hospital they have to prepare you for it by filling you with pooping drugs. And as the first time approaches, the anxiety and anticipation is almost as scary as labor itself. As weeks pass, and you continue to pop the high iron prenatal vitamins, bathroom trips don’t get any more enjoyable.
Don’t even get me started about pooping during delivery. A beautiful thing? Why don’t you ask my husband.
But, it’s all worth it. Probably why they don’t share these less-than-pretty details with you. Just look at this face, I can deal with some unpleasantries for this: