Tag Archives: Postpartum

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6 Weeks Later

I’m sitting there, embarrassed that my first “holy crap I leaked, and it’s obvious and embarrassing” happened, but pleased at least it was at the doctor’s office where they’re used to that sort of thing. I’m waiting in the uncomfortably cold room wondering why if they’re going to hand you something to “keep you warm”, they don’t give you something that’s actually warm while you wait to be examined. It could be worse though, I could still be pregnant. Or maybe that wouldn’t be a bad thing considering I got more sleep and could sit down and enjoy more of a meal than a granola bar or something else I only need one hand to eat.

Then the door opens, a troupe of people cheering and applauding me. My midwife comes in with a microphone… “3 minutes?!! 3 MINUTES??!! How does it feel?”

I look at the camera and asked “..3 minutes…?” I had no clue what was going on.

I shook my head and closed my eyes a minute, they were drooping from being exhausted. I opened them and my midwife and her student P.A. were standing there, waiting for my answer. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

She laughed, “I think you set a record. A 3 minute push time. How does that make you feel?”

“Really, that only took 3 minutes? It seemed a whole lot longer…”

“Don’t tell your friends, you’ll lose them all afterwards. Both deliveries happened quick and the last one was 3 minutes. I’m afraid to see how your next one goes. I might have to hospitalize you before your water even breaks. You might not last the 10 minute drive.. in fact you probably won’t. You’re famous. Everyone was talking about it. It’s even in your notes all capitalized.”

I laughed. I wanted to be a famous writer… apparently my claim to fame is getting a kid out of me because it was the only way to stop the pain. I’ll take it though. Obviously I ignored the whole “not telling anyone” thing, because honestly it just makes a funny story. Or gives me something to brag about. I don’t get much to brag about but how awesome my sons and husband are. This achievement.. this one is mine. I should feel sad that this is my accomplishment, but I made a friend with the labor nurse who said to call her next time.

The real lesson here is no matter what you do, you take pride in it. Whether it’s mastering making one son breakfast while holding an infant and making his bottle and feeding him after while making your son his cold lunch for school. These may seem minor, but minor victories are all the rage. Even the littlest of them to others are huge moments for you. Embrace them. No matter how boring or meaningless they seem to everyone else.

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Shames and Small Victories

Prior to this pregnancy, I had a pair of jeans I’d refer to as “my fat jeans”. I know I’m not the only one who has them. They’re the pair of jeans you can always count on to fit on your most uncomfortable days when you want a little more freedom, but otherwise wore a belt that barely helped keep them up. I’m not ashamed to admit that every day since coming home from the hospital that I try on this trustworthy pair of jeans just to see if today will be the day. So far, none has been “the day”.

I still use my maternity pillow, that lovely little “comma” shaped Boppy that helped me sleep when I was at my fattest point. I haven’t decided if I’m ever going to stop cuddling with that thing at nighttime, it’s incredibly comfortable. Admitting that is less embarrassing than my next point. One month later, I’m still wearing my maternity pants. Not the ones from the early pregnancy, but the one pair that fit me at the end when I was incredibly huge. I’m not wearing them because they’re more comfortable than any other pair I own. No, I’m wearing them because they are the only ones I can squeeze over my “still recovering” body. (Somehow that sounds better than saying “fat”.)

Then a few days ago I did have a small victory. I pulled out a pair of maternity pants from earlier in the pregnancy. (It should be noted, I was in them very early in the pregnancy. So early that it was really embarrassing.) This pair came from around the middle of it, and as sad as it seems this was a huge moment for me. So huge, I texted my husband saying “I was able to squeeze my postpartum butt in my skinnier pregger jeans. I’m moving up in the world”. It’s the little things that matter. Maybe next I can try squeezing myself in one of my pre-pregnancy shirts, because I’m still wearing my maternity shirts too. I even managed to look slimmer in a picture taken this weekend of me, my husband and the eldest boy out pumpkin picking with friends. These are my small victories that make me happy.

We’re not all celebrities that can buy all the best healthy foods and have personal trainers that can make us a twig again a week after giving birth. Most of us are looking at ourselves a month later going “really? I still look this big?” while comparing ourselves to Jessica Alba after her children. I do still try on those fat pants every day hoping, and I admit shamefully that every centimeter I manage to pull them up further from the previous week feels like a Super Bowl win to me. When you spend your day covered in godknowswhatevercamefromsomebodypartofthebaby, with tousled hair tossed up in the best ponytail you can manage with one hand since a visit to get it cut seems so far away, you take these small victories.