– You know what’s fun? Spraying breast milk EVERYWHERE. This is what happens when your child unlatches from your nipple unexpectedly in the middle of a let down. It was like Texas Chainsaw Massacre, milk edition, in my living room.
– Also fun: Boobs that are hard as a rock because you don’t have the heart to wake your child to eat but your boobs are engorged with milk. The pain!
– The pure thought of your first poop after giving birth is terrifying. Suppositories are your friend. So is Preparation H. They don’t make it any less scary, but at least it’s marginally less painful.
– No matter how much you don’t want to, look down below after childbirth. Why? Well, to make sure everything is healing properly. As scary as my nether regions looked, I know that I’m healing up properly and that I haven’t blown a stitch.
– When your water breaks, it feels like you’re taking the biggest pee ever. And, I didn’t know this until Kyle told me after the fact, but apparently, I did indeed pee while my water was broken. Sorry about that, Dr. O’C! So, not only will you poop yourself, but you’ll pee yourself during labour as well.
– Speaking of pee – because I had an epidural, I had a catheter “installed” (inserted?). So, there I was, post-delivery, with a tube taped to my leg and pee flowing into a bag hanging from the side of my bed. I’m sure my visitors were thrilled to see that. Also – it’s the STRANGEST thing not realizing that you’re peeing. In fact, I nearly peed myself after the nurse removed the catheter the next morning because I was not used to going.
– I’m pretty sure I know what drug addicts feel like when they don’t have any drugs for a long period of time. Because the doctors had pumped me full of fun stuff during my labour (fentanyl, morphine, epidural stuff, and God knows what else), afterwards I had the WORST itches all over my body. It was horrid; I feel a little bad for crack addicts now.
– Be prepared to throw all your dignity and self-conscientiousness out the window during labour. It’s funny, when we first went to the hospital, I shooed my mom away when the nurse asked me to drop my pants & underoos. There was no way I wanted my mom seeing my who-ha. Come pushing time, I could care less. Maybe it was the drugs, maybe it was me just wanting the damn child out of me, but I threw all dignity out the window. I didn’t care.