Pregnancy & Baby Index: Real moms guide: Birth: Your postpartum life (Things we'll tell you that no one else will)
Your postpartum life (Things we'll tell you that no one else will)
Abbi Perets
Once the medical experts have had their say, it's time for another kind of expert -- a real mom. Abbi Perets is a journalist and the mother of three -- and she's exclusively here on Pregnancy & Baby to give you some advice about pregnancy, birth, parenting and more.
Wake up call
When you imagine the birth of your baby, we know that you have
good intentions. You envision that magical moment when you gently rouse your
partner from sleep. "It's time," you whisper - except in your fantasy, you
look like Jennifer Aniston did when her character went to have her baby on
the season finale of
Friends. And you still look like Jennifer Aniston at the
end of your fantasy, when you grip your partner's
hand, smile at the doctors and nurses in the sterile room, and push your
baby out into the world. The fantasy probably ends there.
We think that's sweet.
We also think you might benefit from a small taste of reality, and since we
have had a few children already, here we offer some practical postpartum
advice that eventually you will appreciate.
Trust us.
One hour after Baby's birth
An hour after you give birth, you'll probably be ready to take your first
postpartum trip to the potty. (Yes, you now have to call it a "potty" until
your baby turns 27.) The fear you will feel at this moment will make your
labor anxiety seem positively trivial. You may even beg the nurses to please
let you just keep the catheter forever.
But eventually, what goes in must come out -- and you are going to have to
haul your floppy body off the bed and into the bathroom. There you will be
given a small plastic bottle. Quite possibly, no one will explain what this
mysterious bottle is for, because that would indicate a level of caring and
helpfulness that people will seldom show you, now that you are A Mom and no
longer a Pregnant Person.
Well, we're here to tell you: it's actually a "peri bottle," and you are
supposed to fill it with warm water and spray it on your nether regions
while and after you pee.
Do not stop reading.
This is so important, regardless of how ridiculous you think it sounds. If
you try to pee without doing this, you will wish you were dead. And if you
think you are going to actually wipe yourself after you pee, then you
are a sick, sick woman, and we do not want to be friends with you anymore.
Be sure to take your peri bottle home from the hospital with you. You'll
need it for about a week. Maybe more.
Also, dispense with any preconceptions you may have about peeing in the
shower; it's not a bad way to go, at least for the very first time you go.
And while you're at it, you may as well go ahead and drop all your other
preconceptions about People Who Do Things Differently, because, my little
chickadee, you are about to learn the great lesson of If It Works and No
One Dies, It's OK.
One day after Baby's birth
So now some time has passed. You're still in pain and you want it to stop.
You've probably been cut off from your drug supply by now, and you're not
happy about that.
We understand.
A sitz bath might help you. You get in a tub with a few inches of the
hottest water you can stand. If this sounds appealing, go for it. Another
suggestion: Dip a washcloth in witch hazel and just stick it, ah, wherever
it hurts. For the sake of aesthetics, we recommend a dark-colored washcloth,
and probably a cheap one that you won't mind throwing away afterwards. But
that's your decision.
We have also heard that keeping the witch-hazel-immersed cloth in the fridge
can make the whole experience so pleasurable that it borders on illegal
activity; however, we did not actually try this. Our friend did, though, and
we trust her -- but don't blame us if you do not find Nirvana in your
washcloth.
Two days after Baby's birth
By now, you can no longer avoid The Big Potty Trip: the one during which
you -- how can we say this delicately? -- do number two. You can cry all you
want, but eventually, you are going to have to face that porcelain torture
chamber, and you may as well get it over with so that your stomach will
uncramp.
Make sure you are well hydrated. Eat a lot of raisins, maybe some cole slaw
(it's the raw cabbage you want). Ask your doc or midwife about a stool
softener. A little prune juice isn't such a bad idea, either, and lay off
the bananas after you give birth. No sense in making things any tougher (or
firmer) than they have to be.
Put on a plate about five of the soft wipes you use on your precious baby's
bottom and microwave them for about 10 seconds. They will be hot, and
they'll have time to cool before you need them, but be careful. Take them
into the bathroom with you. Lock the door, and tell your significant other
or whatever Good Person Who Is Watching the Baby that you are Busy and
Cannot Be Disturbed for the next little while. (If you are still in the
hospital and cannot convince the nurses to microwave your wipes, simply run
them under very hot water before you start.)
Now, here's a fact you'll just have to take on faith. (Remember that we have
never lied to you about anything, and we are not going to start now.) You
will not rip yourself apart when you go to the bathroom. You will not
rip your stitches out, if you have stitches. You will not tear open a large,
gaping hole in your body and bleed to death in the toilet. You may feel some
discomfort (by which we mean pain), but you will not die in the bathroom.
Do what you need to do, then take your warm wipes and gently, gently dab. Do
not tug or pull, unless you are feeling particularly sadistic. Use your peri
bottle generously, then dab again with a fresh wipe. (By the way -- don't
flush the wipes unless you're so bored that you need the diversion of a
hopelessly blocked toilet.)
You did it! You are very brave, and we are very proud of you.
Three days after Baby's birth
By now, you are probably at home, and you are possibly beginning to feel
like maybe you will live, and maybe you will even figure this mom thing out
sometime in the next 27 years or so.
Now's a good time for us to point out that, if you are still hurting a lot,
and your health care professional says you're doing well, you may want to
ask if a small glass of wine is OK. (We did not say you should get yourself
snookered, and we do not recommend this as a daily remedy. Ibuprofen or
acetaminophen might be a helpful alternative, but it could be said that
neither one of these two is quite as much fun.)
It gets better every day
We don't expect you to memorize -- or even believe -- everything we tell
you, but we hope you will at least save this article and refer to it when
you need it. And remember: we are always here for you, and frankly, we are
glad that you don't look like Jennifer Aniston.
We think you are even prettier.