Let's Talk Boobs by Cali

When I found out I was pregnant with my first child I was overwhelmed with what I had to do! Take
prenatal vitamins, find a Dr., go to said Dr., A LOT, find a pediatrician for your baby, register for baby
items you are unfamiliar with and have no idea what you need, go to baby shower, get the rest of the
things you need. Can't forget dealing with the things that happen to your body, whose boobs are these?
Where is my baby bump? THERE it is! Why are my boobs leaking? I need nacho cheese Doritos at 2am.
Why can't I sleep? No I really wanted cooler ranch Doritos? What do you mean you can't find
peppermint stick ice cream at the store? I could go on for weeks! So hard to prepare yourself
emotionally for what is about to happen.

Eventually it crossed my mind "oh my gosh I am going to have to feed this being!? Now I get to my
point. I knew breastfeeding was best. I knew that I wanted to do what was best for my baby. So why
not? Well from the very beginning of my son's life I ran into SO many "booby traps."
Booby trap number 1 for me, formula! I had more cans of formula than I knew what to do with before my son was even born! Samples, checks you name it, they gave me even more IN the hospital too! Other road blocks included a total lack of support and advice. After my son was born we were thrown into a breastfeeding class that had at least 15 other moms and their own new bundles of joy and ONE lactation consultant, with a half hour to help us all.

That was no good! We got a quick once over and I was told he had a great latch. Well okay then, this
will be smooth sailing! Then the melt down came, my first night home, no milk had come in, baby was
crying, I was crying, my boobs hurt, chaos! What do I do? Oh yeah, all that formula they gave us (see
how that works?) Then it happens, for me the most crippling blow to my attempt to breastfeed...
Nursing. In... PUBLIC!? Going out was scary, leave the house? What if the baby gets hungry? What if I
have to feed him in public? What if someone is offended and says something rude to me? I was so sure
I would crumple into a pile of tears that I resigned to staying home. But that got old fast as my father
came to town a few weeks after my sons birth and we were off to the races, lunch out, shopping, visiting
family, and it felt GREAT to be out and about, except for that cold sweat panic when the baby got
hungry, so formula it was (again, see how that works?). I felt so much guilt as my milk supply decreased,
and his formula intake increased, what a slippery slope.

My return to work also yielded many issues for me. Working in the food industry as a server provided
many pitfalls. Long shifts often, what we refer to as "doubles", left no time to pump, when can a server
stop and breath, let alone sit down for 10-15 minutes and pump? It was the end of the end. I would be
lying if I said sometimes I don't feel pangs of guilt about not breastfeeding him longer. However I
learned a lot from that first attempt.
With the birth of my daughter I felt ready, I was prepared with support groups and more knowledge than
the first time around. While I took the diaper bags that the formula companies used for marketing, I hid
away, gave away, threw away the samples, keeping the bag and even the occasional convenient cooler
bag. This time around the hospital I delivered at had changed things around; instead of one class with
many moms and one lactation consultant, they had a lactation consultant that came to my room to
help. I had people to call when I got home and realized, oh yeah this hurts! I came to realize, well yes, it
hurts at first (only the initial latch, not the entire time), and about two weeks (if even that) later it didn't
hurt. Wew! I made it through, with no formula. Then the big hurdle... Nursing. In... PUBLIC! Maybe it
came with a little bit of age, maybe it came with a little experience, but this time around I figured, I really
didn't care what anyone else though, I would not put someone else's needs in front of my child's. Armed
with a few nursing bras and a few nursing shirts, I was ready to take on the world. I did it! Here we are,
five months into breastfeeding and I feel like a superhero!

Two great "movements" that have come around since I had my first child that I would like to give credit
too are, Ban the Bag and Best for Babes. I was very happy to see that the hospital I was delivering at was a participant in Ban the Bag. I feel that it's really setting mothers up to fail, "breastfeed because it is best for the baby."

But here is some formula for when you fail". It would be like a doctor sending you home with a prescription
for chantix to quit smoking, and a pack of cigarettes, what good is that? I can't say enough great things
about Best for Babes, they are doing a great thing, and I recommend that site to any mom that is
breastfeeding, wants to breast feed, or is struggling with breast feeding. If I can do it, you can try! But
importantly, if you don’t suceed, do not beat yourself up over it. Because while breastfeeding is good
for your baby, having a hapy healthy (phsically, mentally and emotionally) mama is really what matters
most!

Have any mama’s here run into any “Booby Traps?”

Hormones

Hormones are the worst. Starting at the delicate age of about 12, us women become ruthless monsters. All thanks to hormones.

These chemicals change and make me so emotional sometimes. When I was getting married, I would be driving in my car and think about my friends and how much we've gone through together over the years, now they're in my wedding, and blah blah blah... I'd cry. Yes, just the thought of happiness, made me cry tears of joy out of nowhere. Then the whole changing of the name thing was just too much for me. I built an identity on my maiden name and now I have to change it?! I wanted to change it, but I had to have a breakdown first.

Then I got pregnant. Need I say more? Ok, then I'll on. The first trimester wasn't bad. Toward my 14th or 15th week, those crazy juices started flowing. Pop music fans- remember that song "Piece of Me" by Britney Spears? Well the lyrics are about how she can't do anything without it ending up in the tabloids. I know, PUH-LEASE. Riding in the car, the song would come on and the part of the song would come on and I'd just get so sad for Britney! **Insert crazy guy crying "Leave Britney alone!" here**

"I'm mrs she's too big, now she's too thin." That lyric got me every time. I would think about my massive rear end I'm sitting on and how horrible it would be for the public to point it out and headline it on People and OK! and the rest of the tabloids. Don't get me wrong, I'm not having a pitty party for Britney Spears, I was crying (yes, I shed a tear to this song) because my hormones were raging out of control!

I would sob and sob and sob during my second trimester. Nearly everything would turn me into a raging, psychopathic bitch or a crying, bumbling idiot who needed a hug. That went strong until about 30 weeks into my pregnancy. Then it shut off. I was getting ready. Nesting, being in control.

Then I got to my baby shower. Blaring "Move bitch get out the way" (a la Ludacris - yes it was that kind of move), I sped to my shower. Singing along "move bitch," my big, huge 8 and a half month pregnant self got to the parking lot, after holding it back the whole way, and started to sob. "I can't believe I'm having a baby!" Seriously, picture this singing Ludacris... they let me have a baby. HA!

What are some of your fun stories you can blame on your hormones? Does it ever work? Do you ever verbally knock your man's lights out and get away with it because you're feeling "bitchy?" C'mon tell!!

Six-Pack Super Model

Ok ladies- if you're squeemish or don't like to talk about the "S" word then I warn you to turn away now. No, I won't get into gory details but if you don't like it don't say I didn't warn you!

Let's face it ladies, we can dream about how relationships are built on love and trust and all that mushy crap, but when you get right down to it, you need more than love to keep a relationship strong. Unfortunately, men need sex. Its like a natural instinct or something. They need to fulfill that macho animal in their DNA at least once a week or we women will never hear the end of it until we just give in! Maybe you're one of those rare couples who do it all the time. Maybe you do it less than once a week. Either way men are never satisfied. They always seem to need it more than they're getting it.

Lately we've been in the less than once a week category- actually longer than lately, more like for the passed couple years. My sex drive is nearly non-existent. I could go months without if I was able. I'm sure you all know how happy that makes the hubby! Its less than once a week only if I haven't had a drink in that long.

For whatever reason I turn into what I call a Six-Pack Super Model after a couple glasses of wine or a few beers. My husband started saying things that made me think like "you only want me when you're drinking." He started to actually think that I only found him attractive through my beer goggles. "That's insane," I'd tell him. He's a very attractive man. Very sweet and kind, too. So how could he even think that the reason I want him after a couple cocktails is because of a lack of physical attraction to him?

I call this inner-diva alter ego the Six-Pack Super Model because that's how I feel. You know that feeling of self-confidence you have when you've had a couple of really good martinis or a couple nice cold Miller Lites. That's what it is. You're the most beautiful girl in the room, strong, sexy, confident. You look in the mirror and see this more attractive version of yourself. Suddenly, the beer you drank helped you lose 20 pounds, made your hair look perfect, perked your sagging boobs up, and even made your outfit look better than it did when you left. THIS is, sadly, the real reason women feel the need to embrace their inner sex-goddess after a few drinks. Not because the men look better. No guys - its not all about you!

How can we help this Six-Pack Super Model appear without the six pack? The first thing I would suggest is focusing on you. Too often when we try to "spice" things up, especially in the bedroom, we immediately think of things that make us feel less comfortable than we did to begin with. Whipped cream, hand cuffs, and blindfolds are not my idea of spicing things up. After the physical realities of human gestation and child birth reared its ugly head in the form of stretchmarks and sagging, the last thing I want to do is be blindfold so I can't see you examining my deformed body (or at least that's why my subconscious thinks is happening). The first step in bringing out our inner super model is becoming more comfortable with our bodies. My husband is uber supportive and still to this day, after seeing my body transform from slim and young to carrying an eleven pound baby to what it is today, he still thinks I'm beautiful. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I need those little reminders of how attractive I am. Not sexy- you can call me sexy all you want. I don't want to be sexy, I want to be beautiful.

Are you a Six-Pack Super Model? Does you feel so self-conscious that you can't even be comfortable with your own husband or partner? I feel for you. You're not alone. My husband thinks it's not normal that I'm so embarrassed or shy of my own body, but he has no idea. I think I'm pretty normal.

Amazon Feet

Another weird thing... my feet were already huge- well i thought they were. 9 1/2 shoe size is about as big as it gets to me.

My feet swelled up REALLY bad during my pregnancy. I bought a couple new pairs of shoes so my feet wouln't hurt so bad. Size 10! I surely thought I would never need to wear these shoes again because my edema would go back down after the baby was born. Well the baby is about 6 months old now and my amazon feet are STILL too big for my cute black pumps!

Don't worry ladies... we're not alone with our ginormous feet.

Sagging Belly Blues

Trying on bathing suits for vacation just isn't what it used to be. This is the first year that I feel I have to wear a one piece. It's not a big deal since they're finally making some cute one piece suits so use girls don't have to look like we borrowed Aunt Doris' bathing suit. The most depressing part of this swim suit season is what I call my "mommy flap."

Look, even super models like Cindy Crawford experience the mommy flap! Given the fact that I'm not a super model, I'll stick with the one piece. Thanks anyway, Cindy.

The "mommy flap" is a wrinkly flap of skin that just hangs off your abdomen. That's exactly what it looks like. After all those months of growing and stretching, your belly can't just snap back into shape. I have a line where my belly button used to be. The skin around it is so saggy and stretched out that you can't see what used to be my cute little navel. It's a few extra pounds of skin that doesn't even feel like part of my body. Like I could just take it off and throw it away. It's very weird. I am stubborn and broke so I was making it my goal to fit into all of my summer clothes (namely shorts) for my vacation to Punta Cana coming up in a couple weeks.

In addition to diet and exercise I started tanning. Tanning just makes me feel good. I just get a little summer glow- I'm not tannorexic! After a few sessions, I noticed that the line where my skin smooshes together over my belly button has a tan line! If I pull my belly button "open" I can see the perfect tan line where my mommy flap hides my navel.

Don't worry ladies, this is normal. From what I read, it takes a while for it to go away so there is hope! Sure I might have a muffin top overflowing my summer shorts while my legs are looking awesome, but by next year, maybe that muffin top will have disappeared.

My Baby is a Freak: A Birth Story

41 and a half weeks into my pregnancy, I finally went into the hospital to be induced. One of the first things they do when you go in is weigh you. I reluctantly stepped on the scale and waited to hear the nurse gasp... 231.

231??!? I was ALL belly. Yes, my hips, boobs, and arms filled in quite nicely too, but it was nothing compared to the gigantic watermelon of a belly that my son was living in! People at my work would tell me that they missed a heart beat because I looked like I was carrying twins.

I gained a TON of weight during my pregnancy. I was doing everything I was supposed to. I didn't have diabetes or anything else wrong with me medically. I increased my water intake, took the vitamins, exercised, ate pretty healthy. Nope, every month, I'd go in and have gained another 9 pounds. It was useless so I just stopped caring. If I was going to gain tons of weight and do everything the right way so be it. My baby will just have a nice cushion-y palace to live in!

The labor pains started at about 10 in the evening, two hours after they gave me the petocin. I layed there and talked with my friends. It was not as bad as a thought it would be. My water didn't want to break. They had to help with that. Gross... it feels like you just keep peeing your pants... After my water was broken it was a different story. The pains were MUCH more intense, but I can honestly still say - not as bad as I thought it woul be. I was trying to go natural but nope- GIVE ME THE DRUGS!!

After 18 hours of labor and 1 hour and 45 minutes of pushing, out popped our beautiful baby boy! That rush of emotion you feel when you feel the baby slip out and hear that first cry is undescribable. It's the most wonderful rush of adrenaline and happiness that could never be matched. There's nothing that could even come close. After I let out my final "AHHHHHHH" and the tears of accomplishment/joy/relief poured out of my eyes, I heard "5,000 GRAMS!"

What does that mean? 5,000 grams? What is that in English? The way the nurses were shouting I knew he was big. My doctor and I thought he'd weigh about 9 - 9 1/2 lbs at birth. So I thought "ok, he's 9 1/2. Health baby boy."

No. 5,000 grams in English is 11 POUNDS!!!! WHAT??!

My first thought after they said those two words "Eleven Pounds" was "MY BABY'S A FREAK!" I was so sad for him already. He was just born and already he's got some physical abnomality that other kids don't have. Poor guy. He'll be a big boy all his life and get picked on. He'll have to go to fat camp and play the tuba in the marching band. Oh no!!

They handed me my little sack of joy and he was so cute! He looked like a very well-fed eskimo since his cheeks were all puffy from the journey through the birth canal. He didn't look so big to me. This was normal- Not extraordinarily large. The hospital didn't have diapers big enough for our little tank so they had to get some from pediatrics. Size 3. He didn't fit the little t-shirts they give the babies so we brought him something from home.

I didn't realize how big he actually was until I went to the nursery and saw all the "normal" size babies. He was a monster compared to them! All the other babies were all wrinkled and new looking. My baby had filled in everywhere. Full head of hair and all.

Turns out there's a medical term for this. Macrosomia is a baby that is large for it's gestational age. It's usually caused by mothers having diabetes and not following the diet correctly. But I just gained excessive weight during my pregnancy.

My "little" guy is 5 months now. The doctors say he's advanced. Those few extra pounds at birth must be in his brain :) As for me. I had a very easy delivery and easy recovery. My experience was SO much better than I thought it could ever be. Pain wasn't too bad, healing "down there" wasn't too bad either. And best of all, I get to be the mommy of this big beautiful boy!

What's your birth story?

Whose Boobs Are These?

That's supposed to be one of the perks, right? If you didn't have much up top before, you were going to have big voluptuous boobs now! Yeah, well that all comes at a price.

Pregnancy does weird things to your body. I was not very well endowed before the pregnancy, but once those hormones got going I was a 42 D! HooWah!! Alright boobs! Finally!

Suddenly everything I wore made me look trampy. Just a common floozy showing off her goodies. If only that were the case. Pregnant boobs are different from normal boobs in many ways. That low-cut top that flowed gracefully over my belly also revealed the big blue veins and shiny skin that accompanied my gigantic knockers. It looked like I took a pair of opaque balloons, filled them up with water until they were about to burst and stuck them in my shirt. Oh yeah, then drew some big blue lines on them to direct traffic toward the nipple. And the nipple! OMG! If you are pregnant, have been pregnant or ever plan on being pregnant you have to read Jenny McCarthy's Belly Laughs! In one chapter she gabs about our girls and refers to her nipples as dinner plates. Seriously. They get THAT big! Freakishly large boobs (well I have seen bigger- but not on me!) and freakishly large nipples!

Sooner or later I knew they'd deflate and I'd be back to my normal size or maybe something a tad bigger.

Deflate is the keyword. It's like someone poked a hole right in my nipple and funneled all the boob stuff out. I never thought that my boobs would reach my waist at 25 - pretty sure I had at least 30 years before that happened... No one ever tells you how gross it is to feel the under side of your boob touch your belly. It's really nasty. I rarely go bra-less now. When I'm holding the baby or he's laying on my chest, it feels like he's pushing them down more. Can that happen? Can your boobs get so used to being pushed down like that and just decide to stay there?

Now 5 months later, I'm still waiting for my miracle bra. A mom's miracle bra would be something that repels water for those soak-through spitups, cups that don't just lift your boobs into a jiggly mess- but rather make them look full and youthful again, and finally some kind of fantastic thing that hid all of the boob stretch marks. Yeah, stretch marks on your BOOBS! As if floppy wasn't a good enough adjective to be describing my breasts...