The ladies are sharing too much now-a-days and I think I'm part of the problem. But my bigger problem is I don't know how to stop. It's like an addiction. It all started a few years ago after the birth of my first daughter when I blissfully returned home from the hospital only to discover that she really did come out of my vagina. IT WASN'T A DREAM. It happened. And it wasn't pretty. I distinctly remember seeing my mom for the first time and thinking:
"I did this to YOU? Why do you even still talk to me?"
And then I came home only to discover that the pain doesn't stop there. I was constantly in a state of WTF?! What is THAT? The best was when friends would say to me:
"Oh yeah, that happened to me too...it was AWFUL!"
And so I'd ask: "Ummm...so, friend in quotations, how come you didn't share that super important information with me before this carnage began?"
The answer was always the same: "I dunno. I forgot. I guess".
You FORGOT? How could you forget this? THIS?! I could NEVER forget this. NEVER NEVER NEVER. EVER NEVER NEVER EVER! NEVER. You get the point.
But I did.
Up until about 2 weeks ago I was in a state of total denial. Denial that lead me to believe the only thing I needed to worry about was whether or not I had washed the onesies.
I was walking through Shoppers Drug Mart looking for things I don't need but needed to get only because I was in a drugstore when I suddenly noticed it: The Rubber Invalid Ring. Just hanging out there next to the tensor bandages looking all innocent and all "What? I'm just a rubber invalid ring. What's the big deal?"
Damn you Rubber Invalid Ring. You purgatory of full ass recovery.
And then suddenly I was overcome with it all: Perineum sitz bath! Gigantic maxi pads that need to be frozen in witch hazel! laxatives! Metamucil! Espom Salts! Oh Good Lord Almighty - we've got another vagina buster on our hands.
I immediately spent $350.00 and bought three of everything. I bundled packages together and gave them as shower presents. And btw There's nothing you can do to jazz up a package of Large Lady pads but these new mom's don't yet know what's in store for them. Why not interrupt their maternal bliss with a little dose of reality?: Your ass is going to turn inside out. Have FUN!
And now that the sun has come out and all those hibernating Winter birthers are coming out of their houses with their translucent skin and blood shot eyes I can't help noticing that a large percentage of them are walking funny. And although I have this intense desire to shove packages of fiber into their diaper bags - I don't. They need to go through this...only to discover how smart they will be the second time around.
Because it will be different this time right? RIGHT?