Goodbye / Hello – A Tummy Timeline

Warning:  This post contains a large dose of whining, a pinch of self-loathing, and a heaping spoonful of hormones.  Read at your own risk.  

Today’s post is in honor of National Love Your Belly Day! Actually I have no idea if that’s a real “day” or not, but it sounded good, right?  Fake day aside, I was feeling a bit down in the dumps about my lovely lady lump-iness (aka my post-baby body) when I went swimsuit shopping recently. You see, having a chronic illness had already prepared me for what it feels like to be a captive in my own body.  When you live with an illness you feel neither in control nor certain. Yet one thing was always for sure, though: when I went shopping, I never had to try anything on. I was always a small.  Pregnancy changed that.

Not that I would ever be bold enough to step outside of the dressing room

Not that I would ever be bold enough to step outside of the dressing room

But let’s take it back a little. Because you didn’t just wake up with this body one day. It took nine months to expand and seemingly a lifetime to learn how to deal with it after. Remember a time, before the embarrassing dressing room meltdowns, to the time right when your body was beginning to change? I call it the ‘it’s not a food baby’ stage. This is probably just me, but I found myself to be incredibly weirded out by my no-longer flat stomach. I was so unfamiliar with this that I felt the desperate need to constantly tell people that it was a human baby, not a food baby. People would laugh it off or say I was silly, but I saw their judgmental eyes looking at my poochy tummy.

The subtle art of the "side eye"

The subtle art of the “side eye”

Then FINALLY my stomach went from being a behind-your-back conversation starter (is she pregnant?) to being a legitimate baby bump! It was just so cute and I loved showing it off all the time. “Oh this?  Yeah, it’s my super adorable baby bump. No big deal.” And as my baby bump grew, so did my confidence. Aside from the unending nausea and chronic aches and pains, there were distinct moments of that pregnancy glow I’d heard so much about!  Or maybe I was just shiny and sweaty from all that puking. But still! This was a good time for my baby bump and me!

YAAAASSS

YAAAASSS

Just as I started to hit my peak of awesomeness, a beached whale began replacing me in the mirror. My bump wasn’t a bump anymore; it was a mountain. And then there were all the lovely things that came with my growing stomach: swollen ankles, puffy feet, and cottage cheese (aka cellulite) started showing up in unexpected places. I even swore my armpits got fatter.  I have no scientific proof of this, but since it was the one place I could still shave without pulling a muscle, I became quite familiar with it. And let me just say, the shaves got trickier because my arm”pits” were more like arm”lumpy-waterbeds.” Maybe that was TMI, but you can’t honestly tell me that as you entered those final weeks of pregnancy you didn’t become crazy analytical of your body. With it being a high risk pregnancy, I was practically helping the doctor by being so focused on my ever-changing shape – even if it meant I was constantly breaking myself down in the process.

Mirror Meltdown Amnesia is quite normal

“Mirror Meltdown Amnesia” is quite normal

I remember thinking to myself that things would start to go back to “normal” once the baby was born. I’d be able to sleep on my stomach again (ha, sleep, how naive I was) and wear things besides flowing dresses and stretchy leggings. I also remember looking down immediately after being cleared to leave recovery, seeing a mushy blob of a stomach, and crying. Logically I knew that my stomach wasn’t going to be firm and flat. Reason told me that no one would judge me for still wearing maternity pants. But logic and reason mean nothing to the hormonal brain of a woman with low self-esteem. Everyone even told me that I looked good for just having had a baby. They’re just being polite, I told myself. Only I knew the real truth. Only I knew what my stomach really felt like. My body was “home” and my stomach was an uninvited stranger. How was I back to my pre-pregnancy weight, yet the muscles felt like they had been spread apart? My skin now felt uncomfortably soft and malleable.

Pity Town population me

Pity Town population: me

Want to know the shocking twist ending to this blog post?  I’m not going to say that one day I woke up and there were rainbows and sunshine everywhere. I won’t say that I walked out of the store with a brand new, super cute bikini. I won’t lie to you or myself and say I am in love with and proud of my body. It’s a work in progress. I remind myself that my body, my “home,” also became the nurturing home to my son. I also remind myself that things could have been so much worse during the pregnancy and even afterwards. I feel shame, sometimes, for being so superficial. Yet I feel comforted when I open up, like I am now, and find that other mothers – women I deemed flawless – have the same struggles. So let’s get back out on the beach and start taking full-length selfies again. We should share our battle scars, talk about the Play-Doh tummies we have, and make a safe neighborhood for our “homes.”

HOLY GUACAMOLE – and other musings

Has it really been six months since my last blog post?  I wonder why tha – oh wait, I know.  As a matter of fact, just as I sat down to write this, my little monster blessing decided it was the perfect time for a meltdown.  But we’ll get to the joys of parenting a little later.  Well, actually that ties directly in to what this post is about.  I mean this in the least hippie-ish way possible, but it’s all about acceptance.

Okay, so maybe it IS a little hippie-ish

Okay, so maybe it IS a little hippie-ish

 

Point being, no amount of preparation can adequately compare to the reality of having a little human who needs you for everything and relies on you 24/7.  They should have called the book (and subsequent movie) “When you’re Expecting, Expect to Have your Expectations Obliterated.”  Perhaps I shall copyright that and become a millionaire.  Or, more likely, it will take me eight hours to finish this post because of feedings, diaper changing, consoling, pulling out of hair, and teething meltdowns.  And you know what’s the most insane part about all of that?  I actually don’t mind it.  I even think I – dare I say? – like it!  That is possibly the best expectation to have blown out of the water.  You love this mini monster so darn much that no amount of Gitmo-level torture can make you bitter about the situation.  You may, however, be so sleep deprived that your happiness frightens others.

 

face-off1

I’M JUST SO HAPPY

 

So yeah, a little acceptance, a lot of self-forgiveness, and a healthy understanding that crazy is the new normal will help you make it through the first few weeks.  And let’s be honest.  The first few days will feel like weeks and when the doctor discharges you, you will expect to exit the hospital and see flying cars and robot people since surely eons have gone by whilst you were in there.  Because, besides the fact that you’ve just had a small human taken out of your body, you are awakened every one to two hours for days on end and your sense of space and time is just not what it used to be.

 

Obligatory DW gif

Obligatory DW gif, sorry

 

I’d apologize for the lateness, the lack of clarity, and the shortness of this blog post, but apologizing is just no longer the biggest nor the best tool in my skill set anymore.  Apologizing really shouldn’t be in yours either with the small exception of explosive diarrhea in a public place.  And that’s totally a random example, not like anything close to that has ever actually happened… ahem.  Anyways, I really will get back into the swing of things with better posts and (hopefully) better time management, but I’m a mom now and things are just a little more timey-wimey and wibbly-wobbly these days 😉  So accept the crazy.  Accept that leaving in ten minutes really means getting on the road in twenty.  Accept that some people won’t be able to keep up with the new mommy you.  Accept that you’re a new mommy.  Accept that there will be more bodily fluids on you then a hotel scene in an episode of CSI.  Thank you to anyone who has kept up or stayed with this blog, it truly means the world to me ❤

5 Stages of The Countdown

We’ve all heard of the 5 stages of grief, and for many high-risk mamas out there, the countdown to your little one’s birth can feel very similar.  You’re excited but terrified, ready for this pregnancy to be over but not sure what will happen when it ends, and the ever-present hormones are wreaking havoc on your sanity.  With less than a week to go until the “Big Day,” here are some of the roller coaster emotions I’ve been going through.

1. Denial

Maybe if I just don’t think about it, I can delay labor indefinitely?  I mean, that sounds pretty logical, right?  It seems like the closer I get to the big day, the more people want to tell me about all the scary aspects of labor, delivery, and the first few weeks home with a newborn.  Apparently it’s considered rude to just plug my ears and run away?

My usual response these days

My usual response these days

So I’ve buried my head in the sand.  Sand takes many forms, though.  It can take the form of binge-watching my favorite shows on Netflix, spending (too much) time on Etsy/Pinterest, or starting laborious arts and crafts projects.  All of which seem completely acceptable.  And worst comes to worst, I’ll just cross my legs really hard and keep the little bugger in there until I’m really ready.

2. ANGERRR!

WHAT?  You mean I can’t just cross my legs and will the baby to stay inside until I’m ready???  Preposterous!  Facing the inevitability of the situation can drive anyone to anger.  I thought I was already used to the whole “lack of control” thing when it came to my health and this pregnancy, but with time slipping through my fingers, I just wanted to yell and yell until something happened.

Yup, this is happening

Yup, this is happening

Maybe it’s because I’m pregnant, but nothing feels as good as “Angreating.”  Yes I made this word up.  It’s a combo of angry and eating, and it means exactly what you think it does.  You’re mad, feel like you’re out of options, so you pick up that tray of Oreos and just start shoving ’em in.  So feel free to shout “I’M ANGREATING!” when your significant other fearfully asks what you’re doing surrounded by Dove chocolate wrappers.

3. Bargaining

Okay, okay, you’re right.  I went a little overboard there, covered in Doritos dust and shame.  So if I start reigning in my crazy just a tad, perhaps the Universe can do me one teensy tiny little solid with this whole labor and delivery thing?  Shall I resort to yelling again until I can convince the world to cut me some slack?

This is my mantra as of late

This is my mantra as of late

I’m sure there has been some point in the middle of the night when you can’t find a comfy position, your hips are about to disintegrate, your mind is racing with WebMD photos of c-sections, and now you have to pee, that you have called out to a Higher Power for some kind of relief.  Don’t feel embarrassed, we’ve all been there, desperately offering up whatever we can think of in exchange for a shred of sanity.

4. Depression

Clearly bargaining doesn’t work, you’ve eaten all the cookies, and there is no sand left in which to bury your burdened little head.  Oh don’t mind me, I’m just going to spend the rest of my days in bed, staring at the wall, wondering where it all went wrong.  Sigh.

This is my life now

This is my life now

And according to all the forums on baby/pregnancy websites, I’m undoubtedly going to be the worst mother ever.  Perfect.  With only a handful of days until my baby is here, the reality of the situation has moved to the unbearable stage.  In less than a week, a tiny human is going to be completely dependent on me for survival, and I can’t even manage to work up the necessary energy to put on pants.

5. Acceptance

If I’m being completely honest, I haven’t fully embraced this stage yet.  I am optimistic, though.  What I’ve realized is that, whether I cross my legs or not, this baby is coming.  While it may be easy to just sit around (pantless) and eat my feelings, that’s not going to change the situation.

It sure is!

It sure is!

Alright ladies, the big day is indeed approaching!  So let’s try to put all the unsettling thoughts and unwelcome advice on the back burner and focus on really taking advantage of every moment leading up to the minute you get to meet your baby!  Get your partner or family or friends to help you with any last minute errands, treat yourself to something you’ve been putting off, and rest up mama!  GET READY FOR LIFE!!!