There’s nothing worse than being cornered at a Christmas party and being forced to listen to someone’s peculiar medical issues. This conversation always seems to occur at the precise moment after I’ve choosen a shrimp appetizer and before I’ve popped the succulent morsel into my mouth. It is then that some medical experiment on legs chooses to announce the intimate, grisly details of his hair transplant or diatribe about what exactly was removed from his colon. Cocktail party-goers: I don’t want to know about your weeping sores or the strange fungus you picked up at the gym. I don’t want to know about the contents of your freakish cysts or the location of your oddly placed moles. In return for your discretion, I will be careful to censor any potentially gag-inducing details from my own dialogue. Why? Because I care. I’m a giver, what can I say? It is in my nature to do whatever I can to spare you from any potential discomfort. However, I remain true to my determination to shed light on an aspect of new motherhood that is often overlooked. Therefore, I will speak of the next three postpartum surprises in only a general sense. Feel free to keep noshing down on appetizers as you read because this is completely G-rated.
Surprise #4: Going to the bathroom becomes an adventure. There were so many products I had to use to go to the bathroom immediately postpartum that I felt as though I needed to pack a bag and grab my passport when the urge to urinate came upon me. What with the sprays, creams, gels, medicinal wipes and ointments I had to apply, I left the bathroom every time feeling as though there was a sundae in my pants.
Surprise #4B: Going to the bathroom becomes an adventure: The Sequel. The first time you have to accomplish something other than urination is a scary experience. It smarts. Why they don’t keep the epidural in until after that little piece of business is complete, I have no idea.
Surprise #5: Breast milk takes its own sweet time in coming in…no matter how much your baby wants it. You will spend days praying for it to just hurry up and arrive already, and it will show up only when you finally give up hope—much like when you wanted to score a date in your single days and couldn’t…until you already had a date and then men started beating down the door. In my case, I finally gave up and was mixing a bottle of formula when something damp landed on my foot. I immediately looked at the ceiling to see if there was a leak. My husband found me on a chair inspecting the kitchen ceiling for possible cracks as milk soaked my shirt leaving me looking like some obscene version of a wet t-shirt contest.
Surprise #6: Breast milk is the exact same temperature as your body, so you will not feel it escape your breasts until you are thoroughly soaked and caught in a stiff breeze, which explains why I didn’t notice #5 until my husband fell on the floor laughing and pointing.
We are down to our final 3 post-partum surprises. Let's have a contest to see who has the best postpartum surprise contributions. Post your biggest postpartum surprise here. The one with the most humorous contribution gets a signed copy of my book.
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Technically, I believe I was one of your postpartum surprises. The first time around. Now, about this book...it's not called "The Watchtower" is it? Because somebody just tried to give me a copy of that while I was at home and I sprawled army-style across my living room floor until they left my front porch. Somebody should've TOLD me that people can see me laying on the floor when they walk by the picture window. How awkward for them.
Or there's my mom's big postpartum surprise. Me. No wait, my brother.
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