Friday, August 15, 2008

Whackos, We Post Preggos Are! (I mean, I am!)

I don't want to make generalizations by saying "we post preggos", grouping everyone in the same jacuzzi as me, but I'd like to think that I'm not as strange as I purport to be.

I recently had a conversation with my mom about the fact that my hair is falling out, it seems, like in ropes. Seriously. Huge wads of my dishwater-colored hair, slipping out from it's rightful place. It's downright disturbing.

I can't even take a shower without leaving a little assemblage of fibrous proteins stashed on the shower's edge. (I used to let it fall down the drain, but...yeah...not such a good idea.)

My mother reassured me that it was out of whack hormones, leftover from pregnancy, that was causing the upheaval on my head.


I have an ELEVEN MONTH OLD SON (of whom I could wax lyrical all day, if given the time and space) but to think that his former presence in my body (did I mention it was ELEVEN MONTHS AGO!?!) is still reeking havoc on me is somewhat freaky. (But havoc only in the hair department, no where else!)

Yup...we get to carry our progeny for nine months, and for a year afterward still have to deal with whacked-out hormones.

And then...we get to do it all over again! No wonder we're (and if you don't fall into this category of primiparous or maltiporous women, I'm sorry for grouping you in it!) all screwed up during the majority of our prime.

And to think...I saw a newborn recently and instantly I wanted another one!

1 comment:

Kim H said...

My sentiments exactly! I feel like a husky dog shedding a winter coat everywhere. It's gross! But I'm not there yet wishing for another newborn, you're on your own. Maybe a day with cranky Will next week will change your mind.