Post pregnancy ruminations….
Sleeping on my stomach. I’ve been sleeping on my right side because I like to face the co-sleeper (did I mention this? Kellan absolutely will not sleep in the pack n play and those who cry fowl at this be damned. For the sake of my sanity, I sent Tim out to get a co-sleeper the first week we were home. I guess I won’t mention he actually sleeps IN the bed on really rough nights).
Anyway, the other day I finally rolled over to my left side and got about an hour of sleep in my most favorite position ever in the whole wide world. It’s something like on my stomach with one hand tucked under my pillow, the other bent comfortably with my hand near my face, my right leg completely bent, my knee pulled up toward my stomach and my left leg totally straight.
Let me just say that I was in heaven. If God created a perfect way to sleep, this is it.
Also good? Laying on my back without worrying I’m cutting off blood supply to Kellan or wondering if I’ll be able to breathe. I’m still hesitant to lay on my back only because I’ve been telling myself not to for nine months.
No more puppy pads under the sheets! Or on the couch! Or in the car! I’m no longer a liability!
I can cross my arms in front of my chest without feeling like I’m squishing a baby.
I can eat deli sandwiches. And I’ve been partaking in said activity almost daily. I’ve never been a huge sandwich fan but take them away for nine months and all of a sudden they’re a delicacy (ha…punny).
I am now able to have a huge, satisfying pee. No more of the OMG…I have to GO. NOW.
And then? Dribble, dribble, dribble.
You have no idea how non-satisfying that is…the massive, empty-your-bladder pee.
Also related? I can “hold it” again (the pee)!!!
The child birth fears and anxiety are gone because, well, obviously.
Annnnd…that’s all I’ve got, folks. I’m sure there are plenty of other really awesome things about not being preggo…but that’s all I can muster at the moment.
And by “moment” I mean about a week of adding to the list as I thought of things.
My brain just doesn’t work like it used to.
Maybe that should be the segue into the bad.
I’m convinced that my pooper is broken. I swear the OB sewed the hole tighter than it was before. I cringe every time I have to squeeze one out.
I bleed, too.
TMI, I’m sure.
Thanks again, third degree tear.
But both are 100% true and make me 110% sadface.
Zero sleep. I thought it was bad during pregnancy? I’m laughing at mu naive self, now. Sleep deprivation is 1000000000000000000000 times worse post baby (I’m sure there should be multiple commas in that number somewhere but, again, sleep deprivation)
Your emotions are ridiculous. I can be happy one second, crying the next and then swinging a sledgehammer after that.
It’s better than it was during the first week but it still sneaks up on me sometimes…and the swings in mood/emotion catches everyone by surprise.
My stretched out jelly belly…well, belly. I have post preggo pictures to post, so I’ll let you be the judge…but, personally, I’m not a fan.
I’ll may as well continue with the vanity.
My hips and butt are massive. I think that’s where all of the “maternal stores” (read: fat) went.
And? I would LOVE to remedy the hugeness of the nether region by working out but OMG. Can we all just have a good chuckle? Who has the time or, more importantly, the energy, for such activities? My workout is having an infant attached to my boob. The end.
It has been…entirely too long since I’ve felt either pretty or sexy. While preggo, I felt bulbous and unstable and now? I just feel really, really gross.
I mean, my entire day consists of milk, spit up, poop and pee.
Immediately after I get out of the shower is the best I feel all day long.
And, like I said yesterday, caring for a baby is nothing like having a “real job.”
Nothing, not even me telling you, ad nauseum, will prepare you for the stress and emotions you’ll have while you are trying to make sure you’re being a good mom/provider/caregiver.
Also like I already mentioned, your marriage takes a huge backseat…as does everything else like date nights and intimacy.
Don’t even talk to me about sex. That area is currently wrapped in yellow Do Not Enter tape.