32 weeks. It’s getting to be about that time—time to start prepping for the G Man’s arrival (I know—already?!).
About 17 months ago, I sent a link to a post I’d found online to a friend who was about to have her second baby. It was called, “A candid list of things to do in the last weeks of pregnancy.” I remember it being full of helpful advice, so I saved it to come back to before I had my second kid. And I saved it for one specific piece of advice in particular.
*If you have no desire to shatter the beautiful illusion of childbirth or femininity, or to hear about post-partum horrors or if you have any intention of wanting to feel any little bit of attraction toward me any time in the near future, please just stop reading now.*
One of the (many) things no one tells you about childbirth is the havoc that a vaginal delivery will wreak on your lady parts. No one warns you that, after pushing your watermelon-sized bundle of joy through your hooha, followed by the afterbirth (which, spoiler alert: hurts almost as much delivery), you will be accompanied, shell-shocked and delirious, to the bathroom by your nurse, who will introduce you to your new bathroom routine for the next 2-3 weeks (at least).
She will hand you a Peri bottle (a squeeze bottle) that you must fill with water—water that you must squirt into your urine stream to dilute it so that you don’t burn the ever-living-hell out of your freshly-sewn flower every time you pee. “Peri” stands for perineum. Don’t Google it.
You’ll then be given the ingredients to assemble the Dagwood-esque sanitary pad sandwich that will comprise your undergarments for the near future:
- The largest pad you’ve ever seen
- An ice pack
- TUCKS Medicated (witch hazel) Pads
- Epifoam, a steroidal foam to help with inflammation.
Stacked on top of one another, these items will all be held in place by extremely large, extremely stretchy (and honestly, extremely comfortable) mesh panties. If you care to see the process step-by-step, check out Emily’s post here on Real New Mom. She calls it the Undie Sundae.
Don’t get me wrong—I am by no means throwing shade at this process. Trust me, you will cry for the soothing nature of this pad sandwich when it feels like your vj is hanging down to your knees.
Pro-tip: Steal as many of the pads, ice packs, TUCKS Pads and mesh panties as you can from the hospital. Otherwise, you will find yourself crying to your SO to go to the store and buy the freaking-biggest-pads-you-can-find-I-don’t-care-if-they’re-incontinence-pads-for-old-ladies-dammit, whilst straddling a bag of frozen peas… I’m guessing, anyway.
So that’s why this time, I’m making me some Padsicles.
I hit up the drug store today to get all the ingredients (plus some bonus epsom salt, cuz why not?). Stay tuned for a future post, in which I make these big mamma-jammas.