postpartum glory — Everyday Abundant

Being postpartum is such a special time. Your body has just been through major trauma. Your hormones are on a doozy of a roller coaster ride. You're getting zero sleep. Your tight-as -a-drum fundus has deflated to saggy remnant of abdominals with a cavernous bellybutton. Your clothes all fit weird. And your family are saying things like "if you were a wash cycle, you would be delicate." (True story. To which I replied, "just wait until it's your turn, little sister. )

I'm a little farther out now, (though I still have some weepy days [hello yesterday]), and for the most part I can laugh about it. But when you're in the thick of all that postpartum glory it is so far from funny.

Like when you take your five-day-old baby to Target, trying to find some nursing bras that work. And none of them do. Then the check out person tells you your baby is so cute, then points to your stomach and asks if you're having another. Um...no! She was born five days ago!

You wear nothing but pajamas and look like a zombie for two weeks straight.

You can finally sleep on your stomach again. For about two days. Then your milk comes in.

Then, Gap is having a really good online sale so you decide to treat yourself to some new underwear, because pregnancy = stretched out underwear. But when your order comes you realize that instead of ordering 5 for $27 you accidentally ordered 1 for $12.95. And then you cry like a little girl.

Your toddler is trying to use your peri-bottle and sanitary products.

You look in the mirror and think your belly is quite a bit smaller and then step on the scale and see that you still have 30 lbs of baby weight to lose.

Pants. Just all pants.

Crying during Gilmore Girls when Rory says "because I love you, you idiot!"

Crying at Trader Joe's because your license was expired and they wouldn't let you have a wine sample.

Just a lot of crying.

But it's not forever. And until it stops there's ice cream. And Netflix. And red wine.