No one tells you!

(FAMILY and anyone that gets grossed out- stop here)

I gave you a warning. I am going to give you one more warning. Don't read on if you get grossed out or think you will get a different view of who Natalie is. Yes I tell it how it is, and well, sometimes, its not the prettiest... so stop here and go get yourself a cup of coffee and read the newspaper.

Okay, here we go, no turning back now.

I got shot today. Not by a bullet. Not by a needle. No, I got shot by mother nature in the vagina. No one warned me about this day. They said it would be gross and that recovery would be hard after a baby, but no one said it would be this hard or that it would happen 4.5 months later.

After having my baby, recovery was a lot easier than I thought. Yes I have a permanent muffin top that I can't feel (if you can't feel it its not really there right? My jeans say differently) and even though I am back down to my pre-baby weight nothing fits anymore...recovery was a breeze. I solely pump and have been able to give my little guy the best of the best. They say you don't get your period while you breastfeed. I almost had a scare around 3 months with spotting so I googled on how to stop that beast in its track. It said start pumping more. So I became a pumper on a marathon, or on speed, or both. I felt I looked like Madonna with the cone boobs. Aint no one telling me what I can and can't do, and mother nature was sure as hell not coming right now.

Karma is a bitch. She is probably one of those sixth sense Gods and read my mind back then. So she came with vengeance, and her goal was to make my life miserable. So she wins and I am yelling "uncle" to her every 30 minutes. She wanted to make it a little better and let my kid have constipation at the same time. I couldn't stop flowing and he couldn't get flowing. It was a loss loss and we were both miserable. I tried everything for both of us. I would lay very still (as still as you can with a 4 month old) and I tried to do everything for that shit to come shooting out his ass (prune juice, bicycle kicks, rubbing his stomach). Nothing was working for either of us.

I almost threw the towel in, and not in my vagina as I seriously thought of (because who the crap can make a bigger tampon that super ultra plus which is just a nicer way to say you got a serious flow issue) and I sat there thinking it couldn't get worse. So here I went, back to the doctor of Google. They said to stick a thermometer up his butt. WALA- at least one of us will be okay. So we did that- I took that kids' temperature 4 times. Each time you could see his butt clench and I got a few good farts that smelled awful (starting solid foods does have its negatives). And then it came, a hard turd followed by mush (kinda reminded me of that one firework thing that starts as a black worm and gets bigger and moves around before dying and turning to a lump of black crap?), and I had what I like to call a poop party where we celebrate the end of crying constipation. I laughed, which then made me have to run to the restroom, then run another load of laundry and then cry uncle once more.

He finally is down, I guess pooping really wears a kid out. And I am sitting on two towels writing this, because aint nobody has time for a fourth load of laundry. No one tells you how hard motherhood is, especially when it comes to this.