Wednesday, September 1, 2010

The C word

I sometimes struggle with my first and only language, English.  I commonly mispronounce or misuse simple words daily in my vocab.   So you can understand the confused, maybe even slightly disturbed, look I have received from people when I blurt out, "Hey...my circumcision is healing nicely!"  Increasing awkwardness by further explaining my scar, although a bit larger then I had hoped, is ok because nobody will see it "down there".

No, I am not a surgically enhanced transvestite mother of two.

But I am recovering from a Cesarian.

I left the hospital eight weeks ago with a suitcase full of sanitary pads fit for an elephant in heat, disposable panties which should be illegal, some drugs, and sweet cheeks baby Dashen.

I miss my womb....

The main no-no they tell you is to avoid is lifting anything heavier then your newborn for 6 weeks, along with vacuuming.  Which to me is odd.  Of all the things to single out.  Vacuuming? Really?  Who vacuums right after childbirth?

YAY,  mommy can lift me...wahoo!

When the unprepared plan turned Cesarian I feared not being able to lift our toddler.  But, much to my surprise, after just a few days of having to painfully ignore Costello's pleas to be picked up...he seemed to get over it and did not lapse into a state of depression from mommy not being able to piggy back away.  We decided to make a game of it called "let's play gentle with mom."  And, the secret to our success....support.  Grandparents movin in, husband working from home, lots of sister visits with Starbucks, support.

- and daily meals on the kitchen floor.

- In a paper bowl.

- Which he loved.




Circling around the living room only to swing by the kitchen for a bite of food like I'm all of a sudden some sort of McDonald's Drive In.  He'd run on by order up whatever it was I was serving and toss his arms in the air, laughing as he ran away, returning for another bite until it was all gone.

And as always daddy came through like a rock star with his superman hands-on support. This along with my folks who uprooted themselves for three weeks to join us in our lil' abode helped the past eight weeks feel pretty damn near painless.

I was spoiled. Costello was spoiled.  Dashen... well he's a newborn.  He continues to be, and rightfully so, spoiled.

Until Next Time - ABCD

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