Birth stories for women are like fishing stories for men.
Get together with a woman of child-bearing age, and before you know her last name, you’ll know she pushed for 72 hours and birthed an 11-pound baby.
We wanted Colt to feel invested in the process of preparing for our new baby, so we brought him with us to register for a few necessary items.
We didn’t expect him to hijack the scanner for the entirety of the process, but I should have guessed.
A “gun” that shoots a “laser beam?”
And anything you scan magically arrives at your house via UPS, and you don’t have to pay for it?
Pregnancy makes you want some weird sh$t real bad.
It started with lemonade.
But that was just a gateway craving.
Then I experimented for a while with straight lemon extract. (There’s an extensive collection of empty plastic fruit under my kitchen sink.)
Now I’m eating WHOLE lemons – everything but the peel. Sometimes more than one a day.
I’ve tried to keep my addiction a secret,
There’s nothing more exciting than an annual visit to the gynecologist.
The day when you get to be extra late to work because you have to go answer a bunch of really uncomfortable questions about intercourse and self-breast-exams and your family’s medical history. And then walk around all day with a gallon of KY Jelly oozing out of you. Asking yourself …why the hell did I decide to wear a skirt today???!!!!
Before you even see the doctor,
If you’ve had a baby, you know that baby shoes are totally impractical.
Babies kick them off, fuss when you try to wrestle them back on and outgrow them too quickly.
They are a total pain in the ass.
But they are soooooooooo cute.
So when I found a plaque that read: “Cinderella is proof that shoes can change your life.”
Ugh, I died.
A few weeks ago my adorable coworker, Brittany, came to me… frustrated.
She’d been shopping for clothes and NOTHING fit (welcome to the club, right?)
“Where were you shopping?” I asked.
“Macy’s” she answered. But with more prodding, I discovered, she’d been browsing the JUNIOR’s department [insert gasp].
Well, there’s your problem.
She’s 24 and in that weird stage between being a teenager and a woman (when you’re getting your master’s degree,
I used to be calm. Cool. Collected.
But something happened when I got pregnant, and I lost complete control of my emotions. (And my bladder. But that’s a whole other post.)
Anything sad, sweet or remotely HUMAN – and I become a hubbering, blubbering mess.
I have not watched a single movie since Colt’s birth that hasn’t made me hyperventilate.
I cried at The Hangover.
Funny things happen to your body after you have a baby.
Even if you get back to the same “size” you were pre-pregnancy, your parts are all in slightly different locations.
Things are a little…. longer…and a little… lower…than they were before.
Not only do you have an actual baby to worry about now, but you also have all these jiggly bits to manage.
Colt was only a few months old. His acid reflux was keeping us up at night. I hadn’t slept more than a few hours in…
I stumbled into the break room at work for my morning coffee. Half conscious. It took every ounce of energy I had just to shmear my bagel.
I overheard two colleagues discussing an article they’d read on weight loss. How in a couple of weeks you could lose two dress sizes.