I’m going to go ahead and give y’all fair warning: there is TMI ahead. Most of you reading are mommas, so there may or may not be such a thing as “TMI” for you. Been there, done that, had spit-up down the t-shirt sort of thing. But on the real, we’re about to venture into what some of you might classify as gross or unsavory. Don’t say you weren’t warned.
I had our caboose baby in December of 2017. We decided that we were done and did not wish to continue trying for a girl because: our luck. I mean, hell — I’m wildly outnumbered as it is and am not a super firm believer in “what’s one more”. Birth control is not an option for me; the side-effects pretty much destroy my already whack hormones. Hubs didn’t want to venture towards the vasectomy route, and really, who could blame him? We decided that it just made sense for me to have a tubal since I was already having a c-section anyway and you know… easy access. So immediately following Mason’s sweet arrival, all exits were shut down. I made damn sure that my OB sealed everything up so well that even Chuck Norris couldn’t break down that barrier.
Now, look. All of my boys have been section babies. Gabe’s section was not by choice, for those of you who were wondering, it was by necessity. The following sections were for safety precautions, as well. Luckily for me, the maternal genes really kicked in and I can see through walls with my back turned. But I digress. Like I said, all of the boys were section babies. I was up and walking around not even a day later after Gabe and Connor were born. This was not the case with Mason. I don’t know if it was due to my age or if it was because of the tubal, but it took me a solid two days to move around without everything hurting. And hurting is an understatement; I felt like everything in me was going to hit the floor. EVERYTHING. And all my poor husband could do was listen to me bitch and hold my hand. Looking back, he was really a trooper. I got used to the pain and I could finally feel my legs in the way God intended. But nothing and no one prepared me for the horror that was going on “downstairs” after having my tubes tied.
I’m writing this to prepare those of you who are considering a tubal after delivery — not to shock and awe. Y’all need to be prepared for the freaking crime scene that you’re going to witness. And not just immediately post-partum either, guys. No, no. Mason is 4.5 months old and I’m here to tell you that this mess seems like it is here to stay. And man, oh, man is it getting old fast.
I’m sure some of you are shaking your heads, “Nah. It can’t be that bad. Someone’s being a drama queen.” Go ahead and take several seats, because no. It’s awful. Thinking about grabbing a box of tampons a month post delivery? Think again, Nancy. Go ahead and buy all the maxi pads from all the Targets within a hundred mile radius and you might have enough to get through the first month. Don’t even think about wearing cute underwear unless you’re okay with them looking like they survived a zombie apocalypse. “Oh, but I’ll buy the super plus tamp–” NO YOU WON’T. Oh, honey, no. Mother Nature beats the hell out of those things. So just get used to the idea of wearing a diaper for at least the first six months if not longer.
There was a time in my life (about a year ago, actually) that my heaviest period lasted three days. I never even thought about buying anything other than regular strength tampons. In fact, I vividly remember gawking at the S+ boxes and wondering who on earth could possibly survive a period that crazy. Y’ALL. I AM NOW THAT WOMAN. So go ahead and stock up on granny panties (they’re comfy as hell, guys) and a truckload of the biggest maxi pads you can find. Also, Midol isn’t going to touch the cramps you’re going to battle. Go to your local pharmacist, slip him a $20, and ask him on the DL to take the strongest stuff they’ve got and add about 100MG to it. You’ll thank me later.
What you’re going to experience, believe it or not, is normal. You’re not bleeding out, you’re not going to die, and if your kids are like my kids, your offspring will learn to sense when you’re at that time of the month (sorry, boys!). No kidding, my kids volunteered to unload the dishwasher, fold laundry, and bathe the baby for this last visit from my heavy-handed Aunt Flo. And. it. was. INCREDIBLE. Sure, I had to go back and relocate a few dishes and refold a few towels. But beggars can’t be choosers, and I think it’s safe to say that my boys’ wives will one day be very happy, indeed.
Side note, the hospital you use will give you a ton of those massive pads if you ask for them upon leaving. My nurse gave me six unopened packs, y’all. Talk about not all heroes wear capes! She officially made my Christmas card list. So be sure to ask for those as well as the mesh undies. They’re definitely not attractive and they do nothing for your backside, but they won’t irritate your incision and, believe me, you’ll be glad to have them.