I could be way off base here, but I don’t think I am… obviously. Or I wouldn’t write this post. I’m here to talk about postpartum. It doesn’t look great. Not, like, a week postpartum. I’m talking hours after, maybe a day after you’ve given birth. The real nitty gritty.
Some women make it out unscathed. From the picture you see of them, wearing make up with combed hair, you’d never be able to tell they’re wearing mesh underwear with a pad the size of communist China underneath. More to the point I’ve noticed you only see the good looking moms on Facebook after a birth. The rest of us got a hold of any existing pictures and ritually burned them on the summer solstice. I looked so bad the morning after I gave birth to Maisy that when my toddler walked in he broke out into sobs. Because he. thought. I. was. dying. He didn’t see a portrait of a glowing mother. He saw what looked to him to be a death bed. That’s how bad I looked. Reanimated corpse, but a corpse would have been marginally less swollen.
What I’m trying to say, to myself mostly, is don’t beat yourself up if you couldn’t bounce back like the ladies on Facebook. You lost a lot of blood. You pushed a baby out. Let’s stop perpetuating the lie that childbirth is beautifully easy and postpartum is a breeze. It’s really hard. Good hard, but still hard. I’m not hating on the ladies who look great either, I want to BE you, but you I am not.
Hit me up in the comments if you also hoped the influx of pictures of your infant would be a good decoy for no one ever seeing a photo of you ever again.