During my pregnancy, I received numerous assurances that having a baby wouldn’t ruin my body. Given my genetic quirks, I was pleasantly surprised to emerge relatively unblemished by stretch marks and to shed the baby weight within a few weeks. To the untrained eye, it seemed I had “gotten my body back.” However, below the waistband of my yoga pants lies a wildly different narrative.
Almost two years post-birth, I’m still grappling with the aftermath of childbirth. Conditions that were supposed to vanish after delivery continue to wreak havoc down there, and I’ve even acquired a perplexing vaginal infection (I’m thinking Colonel Mustard in the lab with the bacteria). My postpartum recovery feels like I’m the lead in a tragicomedy.
Pregnancy: The Delightful Condition
Before diving into my postpartum plight, I should mention the delightful condition that got me into this predicament: pregnancy. Far from gentle, my experience included nausea, vomiting, round ligament pain, and heartburn. But the real showstopper was the pregnancy hemorrhoids—massive purple “piles” the size of a newborn’s fist. I even named one of them (let’s just say Eloise is quite the character).
Labor and Delivery
Labor and delivery weren’t a walk in the park, especially after dealing with several hemorrhoids that needed exorcising—I mean, excising. But hey, at least you leave with a baby and the promise that all those pregnancy-related issues are behind you.
Then the pain meds wear off. A quick peek in a mirror reveals that recovery is going to be a wild ride. I had an episiotomy, resulting in what looked like a perineal patchwork quilt. It took about five weeks and a mountain of ice packs to heal completely. Surely that was the worst of it, right? Wrong.
Postpartum Challenges
Within a few months, my hemorrhoids returned, and I became so constipated that I developed fissures. Remember those jawbreakers from the ‘90s with the white, flecked coating that cut your tongue? I could swear one was lodged in my colon.
Just when I thought I was getting used to this new reality, I encountered itchiness and dryness in my lady parts. I stubbornly delayed seeking medical help until I stood up from playing with my child and tore my labia. Yes, that’s a real thing.
I marched myself (and a few friends) straight to my doctor’s office, hoping he’d entertain my “let’s just rip it all out and start afresh” plan. Instead, I walked out with a $100 bill for treatments: Monistat 7, probiotics, baby oil, MiraLAX, Metamucil, and glycerin suppositories. But the relief I was hoping for didn’t come.
Medical Tests and Discoveries
Back at the clinic, my OB-GYN decided to test me for herpes. They use a gigantic Q-tip to probe your already tender areas. Not exactly a spa day. I was dreading the conversation I’d have to have with my husband about contracting an STD while he was deployed. Thankfully, the test came back negative. Another culture was taken, and assuming it was bacterial, I was prescribed antibiotics.
Meanwhile, at the colorectal surgeon’s office, I was preparing for an examination in the most vulnerable position imaginable (and I’ve already pushed a tiny human out of my body). Apparently, one fissure is normal, but my situation was more like a compass rose. A colonoscopy may be on the horizon for me. Until then, I’m stuck with a stool softener and laxative cocktail, alongside a generous application of butt cream.
And just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, my test results came back—staph in my hoo-ha. I didn’t even know that was possible! Apparently, my underwear had turned into a petri dish. The treatment plan now included antibiotics and an antifungal, just for good measure.
Conclusion
No one really prepares you for postpartum recovery. There’s no book titled “What to Expect When You’re Done Expecting” out there. My experience, thank goodness, isn’t the norm for everyone. As for my recovery, I remain cautiously optimistic. Despite everything, having a child has been the most incredible experience of my life—even if it came with a bit more than I bargained for.
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In summary, my postpartum journey has been fraught with unexpected challenges and a fair share of humor. Despite the chaos, I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything.