First, that 6 weeks of recovery is super fun. Especially after a C-section. Enough said.
Next, I'm constantly reminded that my genetic structure is not the same as those women who have baby number 4 and fit into their skinny jeans 2 weeks later. Nope, I'm desperately working to take off the last 30 of the 60+ lbs. I gained with my little bundle of joy. I do love eating salad for dinner, salad for a snack and treating myself to a lovely salad for dessert day after day. And then there's working out 40 minutes each day while watching my scale inch down 1 pound every 2 weeks. On top of that joy, it's SUPER fun to watch my stick of a husband eat a giant bowl of ice cream at 9:00 every night. "No, sweetheart, you go ahead," I say. "We just need to get it out of the house." Mysteriously, the ice cream container seems to magically refill itself because it never runs out. Clearly, I need to stop asking him to run to the store for that one thing. I'm really hoping to be able to put my maternity clothes away at some point, but at the rate I'm going, my son will be 16 before I get there.
Then there's breastfeeding. I know it's great for many moms. (if God made it as the best way to feed our babies, why did He not make it possible for everyone to do it?) For others, it's a glorious gift...of mastitis, excruciating pain, lack of milk supply, latching problems, lactose intolerance, and being a slave to the pump. And finally, the lovely gift of the guilt of quitting when it just doesn't work. This comes from every source around you from your own feelings of inadequacy to other moms and dads (yes, even dads generously give you judgmental glares when you pull out a bottle of formula) to the internet, to the first lady herself talking up tax breaks for breastfeeding moms. (Where are the tax breaks for moms who choose not to beat their kids?) Here's a fun experiment. Go into a mom-and-me group and bring up the benefits of formula fed vs. breastfed babies, step back and watch the place go wild. It'll be like a pack of hungry lions fighting over the last zebra carcass. It's such a deeply personal and passionate subject and everyone has an opinion on it. Almost as fun is talking about organic vs. non-organic baby food.
Another thing I just find lovely about childbearing is losing all my hair. It's fun to go bald - or nearly bald - when you have as thin and fine of hair as me. And it's even more fun to find hair everywhere. I get to clean small rodent size balls of it out of the shower drain every 2 weeks when I notice that my feet are taking a bath during my shower. I start to find it between my toes when I walk barefoot on the carpet and I haven't vacuumed for 2 days. I get to clean out the vacuum bristles weekly. I even get to find it in my food, as do my children and husband. Lucky them! I'm wearing a hairnet and hat when I bake now instead of just a hat and ponytail. BUT IT GOES ON! A year from now, I get to watch all that hair grow back as little fuzz all over my head sticking straight up. Uncontrollable fuzz. A constant reminder that "you were pregnant."
These are just a few of my favorite things. I've said it before and I'll say it again. I blame Eve and her husband Adam. She just HAD to eat the fruit. Could have avoided the whole "pain in childbearing" thing, but NOOOOO, she had to know good from evil and ruin it for the rest of the human race. Thanks a lot! Who listens to a talking snake anyway?
It's a good thing that the baby is all worth it in the end. My children are the best part of waking up each morning. Ooo, my boy is waking up, I've gotta go catch some giggles and smiles.
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