THANK YOU to everyone for taking the time to read and comment on my blog!
Regarding my last post — the 10 month thing? To clarify … My uterus says 40 weeks totals 10 months! And I actually have a photo of my uterus, sitting on my chest during my cesarean, looking like a huge, bloody 25 lb. Butterball turkey! And this is after they had taken the baby out! I was so not going to argue with my uterus, and I suggest you don’t argue with yours either! ‘Nuf said!
My topic for today: Get thee to a mommy group ASAP!!!
Seriously, there should be one in the frickin’ lobby of the hospital, just to let you know, ‘Your life as you know it is over!’
A mommy group is like a bunch of buddies during a war, bonding in the trenches while going through LOADS of stress. If you’re in the trench alone it’s a scary place, but if you’ve got your buddies, somehow it doesn’t seem as bad. And when you have to leave the trench to pee, someone has got your back! There is a reason our periods all sync up after prolonged exposure to other women!
Before I had the baby, being the type A control freak that I am, I had lined up support. I had my mother and mother-in-law, plus Kent was going to take a few days off work to help. I was all ready to go, right? WRONG!
No one explained to me how it was really gonna go down. That the bleeding, cracking, toe-curling nipple pain during breastfeeding — and being the only one who was on call to nurse every three hours all day and night — was going to make me feel lonely.
No one told me that I would be in constant pain after having seven layers (Yes! Seven layers!) of my abdomen split open, and would still look puffy, bulging and pregnant! I mean, crappity crap crap. That could depress anyone!
No one warned me about the psycho hormone crash I would be experiencing 24 hours a day. That made me feel alone.
Then I realized that — even though everyone was trying to do their best — NO ONE was truly, physically in the trench with me. I needed help.
So when I walked through the doors of my mommy group and heard the first woman speak, I let out a sigh of relief that lasted, oh, about five minutes.
I had found my war buddies. They were all different ethnicities, religions, backgrounds and ages. My mommy group looked like the United Nations! All these women had the courage to say, “I need help. Got any ideas?”
Here’s an example of their awesome support. When Luna Marie was six months old, my breastmilk started to wane and I had to supplement with formula. As usual, I had done all my research. But when I walked into the store, I was so overwhelmed by the gigantic wall of baby formulas that I panicked.
I typed on my Blackberry as fast as my little thumbs would go, “Mommy 911, which formulas have been tolerated easily by your babies? I am in the store and I’ll just walk around ’til I hear from you.”
Within two minutes, I had gotten e-mails back. Whew! I was gonna be okay. When I had to step out of the trench to buy my formula, my new war buddies had my back.