Have I Got A Trip For You

Posted by: , August 15, 2012 in 1:54 am

baby carriage 300x267 Have I Got A Trip For YouHaving a baby is like being offered a trip to Neptune.  People you know have gone and they say,

”It’s great, there’s nothing like it, everyone should go!”

And so you plan your trip and book it with the travel agent.

When you ask what it’s like after you go to Neptune, she won’t give you a straight answer.  But the fact is, everyone you know who has gone to Neptune is just DIFFERENT now.  They are changed and can’t explain all the reasons why.  But you think, that won’t happen to me, what could happen, I’ll still be the same person right?  I mean, REALLY, how different could my life be?

So the time comes, and you and your partner get in the rocket ship and go. For some people the trip is really amazing and easy and fast, and for some it’s awful and they puke the whole entire time, and for others they have a really long, beautiful experience, while for others it’s quick and painless. And when you get back, all you can do is talk about the trip at first, that’s all anyone who knows you wants to talk about anyway.  And then, about 3 weeks later you realize how different you are.  How your life will never be the same. The things you’ve had to give up, the things you now are asked to do.  Sometimes you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and you can see your old self in there, but just slightly, oops, wait, shit, now it’s gone. You’ll hear a song on the radio and remember a time before going to Neptune when that song meant it’s THE WEEKEND and you CAN’T WAIT for so and so’s party, or having a martini after work with friends, or that trip to VEGAS that was off the hook.  But now you’ve been to Neptune, and you only hear that song in the car rushing to the supermarket. Or you’ll look in your closet and you can’t BELIEVE you once wore a skirt that small, or that short, or heels that high, or that EXPENSIVE? What were you thinking?  Didn’t you realize that you were going to Neptune someday and all those things would become utterly useless?  Where are you going in $745 red suede Christian Louboutins now?  And now that you’ve gone to Neptune, do they even fit?

It’s so much easier to talk to those who have traveled to Neptune. They walk around in the same fog that you do.  They speak the same foreign tongue, “onesie, binky, episiotomy, tummy time.”  They understand when you have to rush off to “pump”, or deal with your “sleep schedule”.  They empathize about the witching hour and colic, or your desperation to have time to watch Project Runway, that Tivo is your lifeline to the outside world.  They know. They too have been to Neptune, and know, you can never go home again.

Now that I’ve been, I have a few things to say. I want to start by apologizing to my vagina. I just…I just didn’t know what was going to happen. I thought it might be easy, or, well, easier than it was. All my life being told I have “child-birthing hips.”  Which is just a lie, it’s a dirty goddamned lie. It’s like when people say “don’t kill spiders they’re lucky,” it’s all lies to make you feel better about the situation you are in. I pushed for 3 hours and I put you, dear vagina through hell and I’m sorry.  I just wish I could go back in time, and get to know you better and appreciate your work more.  I just…I just didn’t know.  I appreciate all your hard work and effort and I know you tried.  I tried to protect you, I did my best and I’m really, really sorry.   I can only hope that someday soon the bad feelings between us can be healed.  I really hope that happens soon, this relationship has gotten really painful, and honestly, it’s been weeks now. Please let the healing begin.

I would also like to apologize to my husband for many things.  The inappropriate name calling in the delivery room.  All the resentment I had toward you because I had to carry her for 9 months and you did not.  And the name-calling I did then as well.  I will have sex with you again someday, I promise, that will happen.  I mean, don’t hold your breath or anything, but we’ll get there.  I will wear attractive lingerie again as well.  These grandma underpants aren’t FOREVER!… Um…about my boobs.  While I appreciate your attempts to touch them, I hope you understand that these are not for you at this time, these are working breasts, and they are under construction at the moment, and we appreciate your patience at this time.  It’s funny; I can see both fear and delight in your eyes at the size of them.  And trust me, they are something to fear. I never thought one boob could dwarf the size of my baby’s head, but it’s true. Her bravery to attack it  literally head on, day after day is impressive.  I must apologize to her as well. I had no idea that my boobs would operate in a prinkler type fashion when it came to feeding, and I have shot her in the face many, many, many times. My apologies there. But the way she fights back through the force of the spray, which is a force to be reckoned with, it is quite something. She is a brave, strong gal.

I apologize to any woman whose baby shower I attended before I had a baby.  I just didn’t know what you really needed, and all those useless stuffed animals and baby booties …well, I’m sure they came in handy at some point, I just should have stuck to the registry and got you some things you could have used right away.  So sorry.

I need to quickly apologize to my cats for bringing home the “new hairless cat that gets all the attention these days”.  I’m sorry you can no longer sleep on the bed, and you have let me know how you feel about that with your poo.  Message received.

I apologize once again to my husband, this time for criticizing you every time you dress our daughter. I know that she is my very own personal doll come to life, and I like to play dress up, but you make such weird choices.  Why would you put her in a sweater in August?  It’s the middle of the day, a nightgown, really?  It’s bedtime, sweetheart, why is she wearing a hat?  I am going to try to hold my tongue, I recognize this is not America’s Top Model, but I do ask you to just think about what makes sense sometimes, that’s all.

I apologize to every mother I saw before I had a baby for judging your appearance. I mentally criticized those old sweat pants, big t-shirts and haphazard ponytails.  I thought you just hadn’t taken the time to get ready before you went out, or you were in need of a makeover. Now I understand that you had simply fallen in to that “mom thing.”  Perhaps we should get you on one of those special Oprah episodes.  I am sorry because I was mean and misunderstood, and I get it now. I understand those precious minutes that are savored when the baby goes down for a nap.  The desperation to stretch them out, make the most of every minute!  I could shower! I could eat! I could sleep! Email! Workout! Laundry! Have sex! (Well, maybe not just yet, but…) I could do so much if she would just sleep for a few more minutes!  And inevitably, there’s that sound through the monitor.  [Stop.  Wait. Listen]… Was it for real?… That was just a sneeze, right?… Is she up? …She’s not up, right?… Oh, please, I’m almost done, I’m almost done eating, the coffee’s almost ready, I thought I could shower,  just 5 more just 5 more minutes please just…NOPE. Fuck. She’s up.  She’s hungry. She’s wet.  She’s something. And once you’ve got her set, fed, watered and changed, there you are, now on the clock to get that errand done before it all unravels again. There is absolutely NO time for a blow out or blusher.  I get it. I was a complete bitch and I’m sorry.  I’m really sorry because I see how people look at me now in the market, with that mixture of pity and disgust, in my old Old Navy nursing tank covered in spit-up and the same maternity shorts that I wear every goddamned day .I am like the elephant man.  I put my daughter in fancy clothes when we go out to compensate for the monster that is pushing her around.  I see the stares, I know what you’re saying.  Well fuck you, you small pants wearing Miley Cyrus loving fuckhead.  I just had a baby.  I am not always this fat. And I used to be on TV.  Fuck you.

I guess I should also apologize for my anger. But in solidarity to new mothers everywhere I am NOT going to.

Finally, I’d like to apologize to my former self. I always thought you had a few pounds to lose and maybe you could look better.  I never knew how good I had it, and I am really sorry.  What I would give to fit into my clothes again!  I look at you longingly, day after day. Hi jeans.  Hello Diane Von Furstenburg wrap dress. You were all so good to me. Sigh.  Good times.

I never appreciated my boobs enough. They were great boobs too, not too big, just enough décolletage. I mean, a really solid bunch of gals. They got the job done. And now…sigh…who knows what’s left.

I should have slept in more.  I used to beat myself up if I slept past 8, or stayed out too late.  I was a fool.  A FOOL. What did I know?

And to do anything at all at a leisurely pace…shop, eat, read the newspaper ANYTHING without having to wear a monitor like a tricorder out of Star Trek.  Waiting. Listening. For her. I’m sorry former self.  I truly am.

One thing I will never be sorry about is that I took that trip to Neptune.  I don’t know if I’ll go again, but I know it was worth it no matter how much it cost me.  I can’t really explain it.  You wouldn’t understand.  Not unless you’ve been.

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