On the day after the Oscars, which I didn’t watch and had zero interest in, I found myself reflecting on beauty. Even if you don’t watch this crap you can’t escape the Facebook and news postings about it. I had forgotten how glamorous being a new mom could be. Especially after a c-section. Especially again after beginning to nurse. The section part is obvious. When you have a roughly 7” incision healing on your extreme lower abdomen, there’s not a pair of panties that won’t hit them, other than the aforementioned hospital-issue mesh ones that you run out of within 2-3 days of getting home, or granny panties which I refuse to go out and buy for a few weeks of my life. Most pants also find a way to bunch and chafe in this area. Therefore, you’re limited pretty much to the baggiest, softest PJ bottoms or scrubs you can find, sometimes without underwear, depending on how long the post-delivery bleeding lasts. And yes, you still get that bit of magic after a section. Seems unfair, as if they should just be able to vacuum all that out while they’re in there. Anyway, if you think of how attractive a dumpy-to-fat shut-in in sweatpants looks, that’s about how beautimous I look and feel.
Then there’s the nursing part. Sure, your boobs are gloriously huge. Too bad they hurt and spray to Tarnation and back. The nursing pads they sell to catch the spillage only make you look like a 14 year old trying to stuff your bra, which you don’t exactly need. Regardless, the white papery discs hang out of the top of your bras like overabundant Kleenex. And with a baby boy in the house, you find yourself changing clothing 3-4 times a day due to leaking diapers and the hose-like Apparatus. Therefore, your already-limited wardrobe of nursing tanks remains constantly depleted and instead you end up in your old maternity t-shirts, simply yanking the deep vees down to expose your goofy bra and whichever boob is being shoved into the infant’s mouth at any given time. Sure, you can get “creative,” and try just standard maternity wife-beater-type garments, but you have to wear a bra under those, too, as the cotton will chafe your nipples to hell and back, and they already feel as if someone has taken a cheese grater to them1.
In any case, I doubt there would ever be a “green” carpet for new moms – or whatever color or pattern which would not show child-induced spots. There sure as hell ought to be, though.
1 Once, I tried using pantyliners as impromptu nursing pads in a regular tank top, to see if that could be a replacement for a bra with the pads and provide shields for my tortured bits. Didn’t work. Not enough structure to hold things where they need to be. Will just looked at me reeeeally funny.