Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Postpartum Woe #658

So not only do I have the big giant gelatinous belly to deal with which cannot be stuffed into anything resembling normal clothing, but now this.

I was warned this would happen.  I read it in the pregs websites.  I was told by friends who have been there and had it happen.  And hormones are hormones, after all; they don’t discriminate.  But I thought that by some little miracle, like, maybe because I am special, this side effect was going to skip my hairy ass.

No such luck.

And no, my ass is not hairy.  But my head is.  For now, anyway.  While I was pregnant, it was a rare day that a hair fell out of my head.  Srsly.  Even after washing and conditioning it, blow drying it, teasing it, whatever.  The preggo hormones stop the normal hair-shedding process, and my hair just got thicker and thicker and it was awesome and I never had that annoying thing happen, you know where you can feel a fallen hair on the back of your arm somewhere and it bugs you but you can’t quite reach it until you pissedly have to turn your whole outfit around to the front so you can pick the hair off and drop it on the floor in disgust?  Yeah, that didn’t happen for nine months.

Until last week.  And it happened all of the sudden, in the shower one day, and hasn’t stopped since.  Enough friggin’ hair falls out of my head per day to make a whole other Jennie.  It sucks.  I try to be gentle with it, not tug it, not even blow dry it or futz with it.  I still take my prenates every damn day.  How long is this going to continue?  It’s hard not to panic when I am clogging up the drain catcher completely TWICE PER SHOWER.  And I have to pull off of there something resembling a brown doily.

Ugh.  Do you think I would look cute bald?  

Tuesday, August 05, 2008

Well You Took My Heart, And You Stomped That Sucker Flat

This is a line from an old country song my dad always used to sing.  And I am convinced it was originally written by a mother. 

I know you’re not supposed to run to rescue your kid after every little peep he makes, but it is SO HARD not to sometimes.  Our little guy doesn’t cry much, so when he does, it just kills me.  And when he does cry, it’s not the annoying, bitchy sound you would expect.  Imagine a little puppy who is heart-liquifyingly adorable, who never pees on anything he’s not supposed to, doesn’t chew your shoes, and loves to cuddle and make you happy.  Now imagine that puppy, singing the blues.  It’s kind of a sad, howling, heartbreaking kind of sound.  How long could you stand it?  And then to see his face while he’s making that sound, with these sad, pleading eyes.  I can’t take it.  If he makes that face while he is supposed to be napping, I have to hold him and make that face go away or I will die.

It is breaking my heart enough that he is growing up so fast already.  This past Sunday while I was sleeping in and Daddy was manning Tummy Time, McLean rolled over for the first time on his own.  I heard about it later, and was sad I missed it, but happy that Daddy got to have the first big milestone since he doesn’t get to spend much time with the little guy during the week.  

But then relaying the event to Jen on the phone the next day reduced me to sputtering tears.  It’s like, you want your baby to grow big and strong and develop and gain independence, but why does it hurt so much when it happens?