No I'm not a really late adopter just now getting around to dropping my landline for the latest app-happy cell-phone. I am no stranger to crackberry rehab; thanks to my lay-off, I've been clean for 7 months now. But my new wireless is waa-hay better.
Ladies, you know how you've searched your whole life for the perfect bra? One that's supportive and comfortable and looks great under t-shirts? Well, as it turns out, there's an "app" for that. It's called a nursing bra and it is WIRE FREE baby! Well I just heard angels sing . To my husband's dismay, I may never get back on the Victoria's Secret mailing list again. I realize this may not sound totally appealing to those of you who's foreplay ritual doesn't yet include 2 verses of twinkle-twinkle little star. But don't worry, by the time you've gotten comfortable using the word cervix in front of your mate, you'll be ready for all 4 hooks of that flesh-toned spandex miracle.
A funny thing happens to one's body image after pregnancy and breastfeeding. Prior to 9 months of having my bodily systems and functions discussed casually in medical jargon, I still blushed at Vicky's racier secrets - but I could at least possibly picture myself in them at the time, even if only after 17 weekly spinning classes and some time with that infomercial ab gadget I secretly bought at some point in my twenties - when I just thought I was fat. It used to be about lace and little bows and see through fabric. Currently it's just about access.
Yes, my breasts are now as much for function as for frills these days (thank you male OBGYN for pointing out casually 'you're sort of like a cow when you think about it' - it must be said that he delivered my baby boy without so much as a scratch in the clear coat, so I forgive him). I have a whole new respect for my breasts and I spend a whole lot more time with them than I used to, which has brought me to a few important and deeply profound realizations.
One: I love my breasts for what they can do - put an ounce a day of healthy weight on my newborn, quiet him when he's in distress, and then do it all over again in 45 minutes. Two: Just when I thought they couldn't get bigger, they can. Three: Actually three is just plain overshare - if you're really curious, just e.mail me. And lastly: I know my breasts better than ever before and, because I'm breastfeeding, exam them regularly now. I turned 30 this year and now have a human being in my life who is totally dependent on me...it's finally hit me, I need to take good care of myself so I stick around a while. So now that I have you thinking about breasts, in honor of Breast Cancer Awareness month, it's as good a time as any to get in the habit of regular self exams.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Don't resent your pregnancy...you may miss it when it's gone
I realize I may be risking some hate-posting in response to this entry, but this topic has been weighing heavily on my mind. I have to preface this by admitting that I had a wonderful, uncomplicated, full-term pregnancy (40 weeks practically to the minute) and a memorable but relatively smooth labor and delivery. I fit into my pre-pregnancy clothes a week after giving birth, and my son sleeps through the night at 3 months...bring on the hate-posts!
It seemed like the minute I got pregnant, everyone else did too. What an exciting thing to be surrounded by other women with whom I could relate and share the wonderful and unparalleled experience of pregnancy and childbirth. Except I seemed to be alone in my exuberance. Everyone else seemed miserable to be pregnant. Suddenly all I heard were constant complaints about heartburn, fat thighs, and even how baby's kicking was keeping one mommy-to-be awake at night. It makes me sad, but also grateful that I had such a wonderful pregnancy. I didn't lament a second of it, despite the typical aches and pains that come with even the most easy of pregnancies. I counted my blessings, and enjoyed every minute, from the long nights of contortionist sleep routines to inexplicable rib pain, and waiting impatiently for labor to start in the middle of the Summer..."sure doc, we'll see you again at next week's checkup."
I don't wish to downplay the (sometimes traumatic) physical symptoms of pregnancy or deny any pregnant woman the well-earned right to bitch about them. But as elated as I am every day to have my son in my arms, I miss my pregnancy. I truly appreciated the miracle going on inside me and for the first time appreciated my womanly body. Suddenly the awkward curves that had made all those cute layered looks wishful thinking at puberty were now responsible for birthing and nourishing a whole new human being. I tried not to think about the stretchmarks or where my waist and butt would end up after it was all said and done.
All I'm saying is, try to enjoy it while it lasts, if for no other reason than the fact that being pregnant is the only time in your life other than your wedding day when you are the complete center of attention - because once baby is born, you are more likely to be to the right, left, or behind it. It also doesn't hurt that being the only sober person at a party is absolutely hilarious, you don't have to suck in your tummy after a big meal, and for 9 months you get to trade in your PMS card for a 24/7 bitch pass. Personally, I can't wait to do it all over again.
It seemed like the minute I got pregnant, everyone else did too. What an exciting thing to be surrounded by other women with whom I could relate and share the wonderful and unparalleled experience of pregnancy and childbirth. Except I seemed to be alone in my exuberance. Everyone else seemed miserable to be pregnant. Suddenly all I heard were constant complaints about heartburn, fat thighs, and even how baby's kicking was keeping one mommy-to-be awake at night. It makes me sad, but also grateful that I had such a wonderful pregnancy. I didn't lament a second of it, despite the typical aches and pains that come with even the most easy of pregnancies. I counted my blessings, and enjoyed every minute, from the long nights of contortionist sleep routines to inexplicable rib pain, and waiting impatiently for labor to start in the middle of the Summer..."sure doc, we'll see you again at next week's checkup."
I don't wish to downplay the (sometimes traumatic) physical symptoms of pregnancy or deny any pregnant woman the well-earned right to bitch about them. But as elated as I am every day to have my son in my arms, I miss my pregnancy. I truly appreciated the miracle going on inside me and for the first time appreciated my womanly body. Suddenly the awkward curves that had made all those cute layered looks wishful thinking at puberty were now responsible for birthing and nourishing a whole new human being. I tried not to think about the stretchmarks or where my waist and butt would end up after it was all said and done.
All I'm saying is, try to enjoy it while it lasts, if for no other reason than the fact that being pregnant is the only time in your life other than your wedding day when you are the complete center of attention - because once baby is born, you are more likely to be to the right, left, or behind it. It also doesn't hurt that being the only sober person at a party is absolutely hilarious, you don't have to suck in your tummy after a big meal, and for 9 months you get to trade in your PMS card for a 24/7 bitch pass. Personally, I can't wait to do it all over again.
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