The Pregnant & Delusional Reluctant Mother: Wonder Woman

Calm down everyone.  I’m NOT pregnant!

However, Mac is the kind of kid that really really really makes you think a second child is a great idea.  He’s generally sweet and cuddly and predictable and patient.  As he approaches his first birthday, and I approach my 36th, I’m feeling a little rushed to decide how and when he’s going to have a brother or sister. . .

So I thought it might be fun for us all if I take the time to reminisce about all the garish things that occur during pregnancy.  This will hopefully stop me from making any rash decisions to get knocked up again and inevitably bearing hell-spawn (aka child number 2).  Because we know I definitely have it coming to me. . .

Let’s address stretch marks, shall we?  People talk about them like they are the plague.  I never really understood this.  I’m vain but not that vain.  What’s the big deal with a few stretch marks?

It was my absolute intention to NEVER have anyone see me even partially disrobed again after suffering the indignities involved with childbirth so I didn’t much care about what all that pasty flesh on my mid-section ultimately looked like after I finally evicted the kid.

However, Mac was making me look like a walrus-that-swallowed-an-elephant at an alarming rate and people definitely wanted to discuss the topic of stretch marks.  Even my Grandmother – well into her 90’s – offered up suggestions about reducing my “risk.”

As with all the other unsolicited pregnancy advice, I tried to redirect the discussion anytime it came up.

I considered telling people I rubbed something completely gross like maybe sheep’s blood? or tripe?  all over my belly every hour to stop the stretching, in an effort to render the advice-giver speechless.

Instead I smiled politely and thanked them for their advice.  Then I quietly retreated to my bedroom where I stripped down to a T-shirt and my knickers, flopped into my specially arranged pillow nest on the bed, and ate cake and watched Kardashian re-runs until I was snoring.

Towards the end, I could see there were some red lines near the lower outside edges of the extremely large flesh and fluid-filled blob that was keeping Mac safe and sound.  Still, it didn’t seem so bad.

I practically bragged to my Husband and Mother:  “I don’t know why people complain about stretch marks so much.  Mine are maybe 2 inches long.  Not even that many of them.  Maybe two or three on each side of my belly.”

Yeah.  I felt smug.

I was apparently a real super-stretchy-skinned wonder woman, let me tell you.

Mac arrived at nearly 9:00 PM so it was midnight until we got to our postpartum room.  However, at 6 the following morning, I was anxiously anticipating a very long, hot shower.  A shower in which I could finally see my toes again. . .

And in the stark hospital lighting I was definitely some kind of a wonder woman. . .

I was a woman wondering where the EFF all these gigantic stretch-marks came from?!

Seems the delusional and pregnant Reluctant Mother failed to take into account what happens when skin deflates and sags. . .Those teeny two-inch marks I was previously bragging about now looked more like 6 or 7 inch marks.  BLAH!!!!!!!

It was sad indeed, the skin on my lower abdomen resembled an extremely pale satellite photo of a large delta complete with these reddish-purple rivulets running every which way.

Despite my delusion and disgusting new paunch, you know what still felt wonderful?

Having that kid OUT FINALLY!

Wonder woman, indeed.

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10 thoughts on “The Pregnant & Delusional Reluctant Mother: Wonder Woman

  1. HA! People keep asking me when to expect baby #2, and as soon as the thought crosses my mind, I remind myself of things just like this AND how much more difficult a pregnancy will be when I have to run around after a toddler! Last time around, I would come home from work, eat *first* dinner and knit baby booties for a couple of hours in front of the TV to decompress, before my husband got home. SO not gonna happen this time!

    – Evanthia

    • I know! My number one fear is being ginormously pregnant again and having to chase around a toddler. I have no idea how anyone has more than one! Ha.

  2. I got those horrendous looking, red stretch marks that made it look like an earthquake had taken place on my tummy and the ground had split. And my son wasn’t a huge kid either. He was on the skinnier side, just 5.5 lbs and still I looked like I’d swallowed a pillow. Now those marks have become dull and this odd shade of white but not really white and it’s etched on my skin forever. sighs.

    The only nice thing about them is my kisses my tummy more thinking those marks are my “ouchies” 🙂

    P.S: the days I get terribly annoyed with some or the other antic of his, I refer to him as mini-Satan 🙂 your ‘hell-spawn’ made me guffaw.

    • Mac wasn’t too big either – not quite as small as your little one – he was 7 lbs, 4 oz. . .On the days when they aren’t acting like “mini-Satan” (Hilarious!!), and they are doing adorable things (like kissing your “ouchies”), it’s completely worth the way they laid waste to our bodies. Ha!

  3. I was paranoid about stretch marks (I guess we all have our weird obsessions…sadly, I have more than most though). I found this maternity cream geared towards preventing stretch marks and, no word of a lie, I probably went through a bottle every 10 days. I told my husband it was worth the money if it was going to prevent them. Another friend says she slathered baby oil all over her tummy and then put a tank top over top everyday to help her.

    It’s a shame we don’t live “back in the day” where we could just embrace pregnancy and motherhood and not worry about this silly crap!

    • Oh I’ve embraced it! Or is it apathy? Either way, it feels pretty damned good. If my stomach wants to look like a saggy heap of rising bread dough, so what?!

      That particular fat roll has always had a mind of it’s own anyway – rolling down countless waistbands on tights, running shorts, leggings. . .Spanx were barely any match for it!

  4. My personal theory about stretch marks is they are genetic in some way. My mama birthed 6 kids without a single stretch mark. My oldest sister birthed 5, and I birthed 3 without a single mark. However, my middle sister and youngest sister (she’s 12 years my senior though) have bellies that look like road maps to the world. And my niece, the daughter of my youngest sister, has 3 babies and her stretch marks were so bad she needed a tummy tuck to get rid of them, because at 28 years old, who wants to have a saggy, wrinkled belly? All this being said, with all 3 of my pregnancies, I SWORE by olive oil mixed with shea butter. I made The Man rub it on my belly every night before bed 🙂

    • I was thinking the same thing about stretch marks! That to some degree, one must have a genetic predisposition to get them. (Too bad I didn’t know about your olive oil trick sooner. . .perhaps then I wouldn’t have had 32 ounces of it just sitting around begging to be dumped everywhere! Ha!

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