Mommy Diaries: Part IV
Thoughts on post-baby body image (body what?), doing the deed, and gassy, floppy babies.
I’m dumbfounded that more than entire month has past since my last post! I kept saying "today I’ll post, today I’ll post." Honestly, it’s probably best that I didn’t then because what you would have read would have been way more incoherent than what you’re about to read.
After a couple of weeks of going to the gym rather regularly I decided to take a minute in front of the mirror before getting in the shower one day. After blankly staring in the mirror for a good minute (a minute is painfully long when standing naked anywhere, let alone in front of a mirror post-baby) I wanted to scream, "Are you KIDDING ME?!?!"
For those of you who know me well, you know I’ve never been skinny, and I’ve only been fat once (which most people from high school missed since it was during my sophomore year of college and I lost it before my junior year thank god). While I’ve never been skinny, I’ve always had a rockin’ stomach. That was my thing. I had booty and thighs but I had a tiny waist and a flat stomach.
Well- pregnancy ruined the ONE thing about my body that I carried proudly. THE ONE THING. Granted- I did not come home from the hospital looking pregnant as I feared via seeing many women suffer that fate, but I was less than excited to see that my stomach now looked as though I had a red roadmap of the United States tattooed all over it.
I’m speaking of Stretchmarks (yes, they earn a capital "s") for those of you assholes who don’t have them.
Now, some of them are very shallow and very small and may actually go away. But, alas, the others will simply fade and become a shiny, sad, medal of honor of some sort. So, the long and the short of it is I’ve joined weight watchers online to assist in reclaiming what was once mine.
Aside from having my stomach, muscles, and uterus cut open to airlift a baby, my new body image and sleep deprivation combined to make a perfect storm- NO LIBIDO!
When my husband first suggested sex I had the luxury of saying "the doctor says not for 6 weeks, my body just went through a trauma." When the 6 weeks were up I had the confidence to look at him, smile and say, "yea..right" When he asked "why?" I simply stared at him as though he just gave birth himself and said "How the HELL could you WANT TO??!?!"
Twice. That is the number of times since February 2nd, 2008 that we’ve "done it." And, really, the first time didn’t count because I held my breath the whole time in prayer that nothing would hurt, smoosh, tear, etc. Men boggle my mind.
At my 8-week check up the midwife said, "What would you like to do for birth control at this point?" I looked her right in the eye and stated, "Absinence."
Well, our little man is now 2 months old as of yesterday. He’s really crossing the threshold and is almost a full blown human! He is eating (drinking) more, sleeping for 4, sometimes 5 hours a time at night, and is...here it comes...SMILING AND GIGGLING!
Some Baby Einstein toy, a smiling sun that plays music and flashes colors, is his official best friend. He stares at it for 30-40 minutes sometimes (which is nearly an eternity when you’re 8 weeks old or a mom cooking dinner quite frankly) and he laughs, makes noises at it, and gives the biggest toothless smile you’ve ever seen.
I never thought, in all my life, that I would fall in love with a person wearing a toothless smile.
This is a big change from roughly 3 weeks ago when Quinn went through 3 days of screaming his head off. Yep 3 days. Maybe it was 4 and I blacked out during one. My mom was here, thank God, because one of those nights he cried for 4 hours. Straight. Screaming. He wasn’t sick, was clean, changed, dry, fed, and not hurt.
After the 3rd (or 4th) day of frantic observation it dawned on me as he was trying to eat. Dear God, my 6 week old has outgrown the newborn nipple on the bottles!
He was trying to eat faster (because he was eating more at this point) and the newborn nipples are designed to be slow-flow for newbies and he had just had it! HE was screaming because he couldn’t get the food out fast enough, then he’d give up and fall asleep after 45 minutes of trying to eat, and then would scream because he was hungry but wouldn’t eat because it was too much effort!
How the hell was I supposed to know before the 11th hour that a nipple designed for a 3 month old was desired by my son 1/2 that age?
Men. They all want bigger nipples than offered.