6 Weeks Postpartum

(1 week postpartum on left, 6 weeks postpartum on right.)

I'm 6 weeks postpartum today. I have to admit, although I know it's only 6 weeks and it's vain of me to say this, I am not loving my body right now. People predicted by the way I was "all baby" while pregnant that I would lose all of my baby weight immediately and go right back to the way I was... why other moms would have encouraged such a delusional thought in me I do not know. Looking at the above photos, I think I am gaining weight aside from the shrinking of my ute. Breastfeeding supposedly burns a lot of calories, but I am still eating like a pregnant woman and I'm not that active... bleh.

Weight: I weighed myself about a week ago and I was 8 1/2 pounds over my pre-pregnancy weight. That's not bad at all, especially considering I was pretty skinny pre-pregnancy and don't necessarily feel the need to get back to that exact weight. The trouble is, my clothes don't fit and/or look horrendously unflattering on me.

Clothing is a major challenge right now for two reasons: big squishy muffin top, and nursing. Between trying to accommodate the belly and trying to have easy access to the boobs I have very few items of clothing that I can wear at all, and some of them, though functional, look rather bad. I'm still in maternity pants, even though they aren't great looking, because there is NO WAY I'm going near my pre-preg pants right now. I just know. I don't need to try them on.

I am going to try to make it to Goodwill today and try on some pants, though getting anything done while Miles is in growth spurt mode is mighty challenging (yesterday at the library I nursed in public - yay - and he had a poop blowout and spit up everywhere and cried).

Belly: I still have stretch marks, a linea nigra, and my belly button is flattish, stretched out, and most distressingly, brown like the linea nigra. Sad face. Dislike.

Lady Parts: I finally busted out the razor and attacked the southern jungle last weekend and got things neatened up down there. So then of course I had to fetch a hand mirror and take a look at things. They were... weird. I'm really not sure that I have healed very well from the tears and stitches. My OB appointment is tomorrow so I'll see what she says.

Also in the southern regions, I still have a little lochia flow. All the online references say it lasts 2-4 weeks, so I guess I am just EXTRA LUCKY in that department. Still wearing pantiliners. Joy. Definitely want to find out tomorrow if that is normal and if not WTF.

Constipation: yes. I've never had this problem in my life and it BETTER not be permanent.

Random weirdness: My wrist is seriously messed up. Like Tweedledum and Tweedledee, Mr. Ibis and I were both cluelessly complaining about wrist pain for a few weeks until finally my stepmom pointed out, "It's from holding the baby." Ohhhh, is that why we both have it? We thought it was some kind of contagious wrist-rotting disease. It hurts the worst at night when I'm trying to haul Miles out of his pack and play to nurse. Sometimes I think I'm not going to be able to do it and he's just going to lay there starving... in fact part of the reason I sometimes bedshare is to avoid having to lift him in the middle of the night.

Boobs: I've gone on about them ad nauseum so I won't rehash all that. Right now they're a bit sore again because Miles is eating so often, but tolerable with the occasional 2-ibuprofen booster. Let me just throw in here that my wonderful Bravura washable breast pads are borderline useless. Comfy, but useless. It takes about one feeding for them to get soaked through. I had two public wet tshirt contests before I realized they were not going to work for me. Last night I tried wearing them with some thin/scratchy Nuk disposable pads behind them and that is a bit wonky but seems to work okay.

Sexitime: I feel stupendously frumpy and unattractive, between my rearranged girly bits, constant diaper wearing (pantiliner, whatever), painful boobs, stretch marks, muffin top, and the fact that motherhood has turned me into the kind of slob who has to change her sweater because she somehow managed to drip honey down the sleeve while eating peanut butter toast. My husband seems to have gone touched in the head, or is simply sex starved, because he still wants me, amazingly enough. I've not been cleared for sex by the doctor yet but we've done Other Things. I am even more scared of our first time back to sex than I am of my internal exam tomorrow - things definitely do NOT feel right down there.

Mood: Since I saw the magical lactation consultant, pretty good. I feel much more free to enjoy my baby since I know how to feed him now, I feel less isolated since my family visited, and overall I feel positive and optimistic. I am pretty pissed that I'm working on maternity leave, I'm annoyed with my assistant and my client and I don't want to go back to work, but I seem to have acquired a new ability called Not Giving a Shit. My client whines that she thought we were going to be done yesterday? I really don't care. I deal with a lot of bratty people in my line of work and I'm totally over getting all wrapped up and emotionally invested in their petty complaints.

It struck me yesterday what an incredible dream come true it is to have this baby here, to be a mom at last. I've always wanted this, and at 31 years old it feels like a bit of a long time coming. Now it's really happening, and it seems like nothing else matters. Whatever stupid irritations come my way during the way, behind and beyond it all I have my family, my wonderful husband and beautiful son. Life is good.