I look up at the staircase with a sense of dread. Groan. I have to make it all the way up there? And then I suddenly remember that my body works again. I lift my knees and propel forward with so much more ease than I did just weeks ago. I feel gloriously unencumbered. There is still a novelty in being able to move properly. To bend at the waist is divine. I keep forgetting I can; I keep asking the kids to pick things up off of the floor. Well, they should anyway, those messy little buggers. But I too can collect debris off of the floor.
I’m smaller now than I was when I got pregnant. Which is like the reverse of what happens to most people but apparently this body works in opposites. I put on weight when not pregnant; I lose weight while pregnant. Technically my weight remained constant for 9 months, despite growing an almost 10 pound baby and the assorted accoutrement that comes with a baby (like a placenta and giant water-filled cankles). So once the baby popped out, there went like 30 pounds or so in a nano second. How bizarre.
Callum tells me my tummy is still big. Kid, you have no idea how much smaller it is. I’m not taking it personally.
I’ve always thought I should be a surrogate. If I just kept getting pregnant, I could practically be skinny. And I could give other people babies, if they need some help getting their own. I don’t want all the babies here. Infants are terrifying (she says, as she cares for one). I think this is definitely enough. More than enough, probably.
I gave all my maternity clothes away this morning, every last piece of them. I feel like some sort of weight left the house with those three large bags of clothes, like something was hanging over me. Goodbye, pregnancy. Godspeed.
My ankles came back about a week after Charlie was born. I’ve never been so happy to see a part of my body again -- probably more than my stomach. I had no problem finding clothes that fit the bump. I had a terrible time finding shoes that fit my swollen feet and ankles. I wore Birkenstocks for almost the entire pregnancy. I think I might burn them. I just need to find a fire to throw them into.
My gall bladder has not acted up again since the night after he was born. I have no reason to assume it will get evil again, but I probably should remember that they told me I need to have it out. The idea of surgery, even day surgery, just terrifies me.
This body has a lap to hold babies and big kids. It feeds a baby, and comforts it. It’s about to do the school run and get frozen in the playground. Today it’s fueled by coffee and muffins brought by a friend and leftover turkey meatball pasta. Keep going, body. Let’s go.
(cross posted from my personal blog http://herebewillers.com/2011/12/this-body/)
young woman jumping on meadow photo via Shutterstock.
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