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I’m pulling my hair out.  Literally.

 

I’ve reached the postpartum stage where a woman’s hair begins to fall out.  Yay.  If you know me, you’d know that I cannot stand loose hair.  It disgusts me.  I’m not quite sure why, but I just know it’s not for me.  I’m the friend who will pick loose hairs off of the back of your shirt.

 

During this part of my postpartum period with my firstborn, I was pulling out handfuls of hair in the shower every day for a month.  I’m assuming I’m in for the same situation this time.  I am absolutely without a doubt NOT looking forward to it.

 

I’m having a very tough time with my body image right now.  I still look about 5 months pregnant.  I have at least 20 more pounds to lose before I’ll feel good about myself again.  I have the world’s darkest stretch marks on my tummy, and my bellybutton is still brown and sort of resembles an old piece of leather.  I go back to work next week and I’m not even quite sure what I’ll wear.  Sure, I have some great nursing tops from Motherhood Maternity…many that I’ll be able to wear to work (they make it so much easier to pump at work).  It’s the pants situation I’m worried about.  I suppose I should do an inventory of my closet tomorrow to make sure I have a couple of pairs of dress pants that look decent.  I’ve been putting that off for the past few weeks because I know it will make me sad.

 

But, in all my current self loathing, I realize one very important fact.  I am blessed. I know there are so many women out there who have trouble conceiving, and my heart aches for them. My husband and I are extremely lucky as we were able to get pregnant with both of our children on the first or second attempt.  Our babies are healthy and developing wonderfully.

 

So, I’ll take the extra pounds, hair falling out, and stretch marks.  I’ll take the sleepless nights, the spit up all over my clothes, our couches, and our bed.  I’ll take the chicken that was thrown in my hair tonight at dinner.  I’ll take the countless hours spent washing bottles, sippy cups, and the high chair.  I’ll take it all, for I know I am undeserving of the adorable little boys I have been blessed with.

 

I’ll take it all, and I’ll love the hell out of my little babies :)

 

Goodnight blogosphere.

 

All the best,

Someone’s mom

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