Guest Post: Mary of Outmanned Mommy, on her Uterus


photo credit: Storm Signals via photopin (license)
photo credit: Storm Signals via photopin (license)

The meager comedy club that is Coach Daddy will host a big-time name today.

Mary Widdicks of Outmanned Mommy is in the CD hiz-ouse. She’s big-time. She’s won back-to-back Blog Her Voice of the Year awards. TheIndieChicks.com named Mary the 2014 Badass Blog Awards Blogger of the Year.

She’s in the books Clash of the Couples and Mother of All Meltdowns, among others.

Mary contributes regularly to 6 Words and inspired a post of mine, My Body is an Automobile. She’s outnumbered by boys in her house, but is about to have her first daughter. Like, any day. And she’s still going to Blog U.

I told you, hardcore.

She wrote an incredible guest post for me today in which uterus will appear in a headline. This doesn’t happen every day. Check out her work at Outmanned Mommy. You’ll love her too.

photo credit: Blue and Yellow Uterus Anatomy Embroidery Hoop Art. Hand Embroidered. via photopin (license)
photo credit: Blue and Yellow Uterus Anatomy Embroidery Hoop Art. Hand Embroidered. via photopin (license)

My Uterus Brainwashed Me

In the last five years I’ve given birth to three beautiful children, and every time as I walked into the delivery room I was absolutely certain that they would be my last.

What happened?

Somewhere between “holy crap, I’ll never do this again” and “wouldn’t it be fun to have one more” I lost my mind. Every time.

Somehow despite the fact that I hate being pregnant- I mean I’m really terrible at it- and have endured the torture of natural childbirth multiple times, there comes a day when I look at my rapidly growing, chubby, happy baby and some part of me that I’m not very well acquainted with flips my idiot switch.

The change is so subtle that if you’re not paying attention you could miss it, but it turns me into a broody, baby-obsessed, moron with a twitchy uterus and a hair-trigger. Let’s take a glimpse into my highly suggestible mind and see if we can spot where it all goes wrong.

Two weeks before delivery

My feet hurt.

I wonder if they’re swollen.

I can’t see my feet.

Dammit, I hurt my back bending over.

And I peed a little.

Everything I own smells faintly of urine.

I’m never doing this again. Ever.

One day before delivery

If this baby doesn’t come out soon I’m going to perform a home c-section.

It would probably hurt less.

Was that a contraction?

No, just a gas bubble the size of a grapefruit lodged under my lungs.

I wonder what I could do to induce labor…

Spicy food? Too nauseous.

Jumping up and down? Too fat.

Going for a long walk? Too weak.

Sex? Bwah ha ha ha ha. Too funny…also, too nauseous, too fat, and too weak.

If I survive this pregnancy, I’m never doing this again.

Ever.

During labor

photo credit: Imeinu Doulas Open House 6/3/12 #doula #jewish #birth #doulaparty via photopin (license)
photo credit: Imeinu Doulas Open House 6/3/12 #doula #jewish #birth #doulaparty via photopin (license)

I can’t take much more of this.

I must be at least 7 centimeters dilated.

What the fu*k do you mean I’m only 2 centimeters?!?

I can’t do this.

I don’t want to have a baby today.

Maybe I’ll just pass out from the pain, wake up, and it will all be over.

I’m never doing this again. Ever.

Later on during labor

Sh**!

F**k!

Mo***r F**ker!

Can I push yet?

F**k!

How about now?

Sh**!

I feel like my internal organs are about to fall out of my anus.

F**K!!

I am NEVER doing this again. EVER.

Five minutes after delivery

Oh thank God, it’s over.

My legs won’t stop shaking.

After-pains? Why didn’t somebody mention these in the brochure?!

Aww, but look at what I created.

I guess he was worth all the pain.

Wait, you want to sew me up WHERE?!?

Ok, still worth it, but that baby had better support me when I’m old.

I love my baby so much.

I’m still never doing this again. Ever.

Two weeks after delivery

Why won’t he stop crying?

I must be doing everything wrong.

Why can’t I stop crying?

I need some chocolate.

We’re out of chocolate?!?!

I bet my husband ate the last piece.

I hate him.

This is all his fault anyway. Stupid sperm.

The baby finally passed out from exhaustion after crying for three hours.

Isn’t he cute when he sleeps?

Maybe I’m getting the hang of this parenting thing.

For the love of God, don’t wake him up!!

I’m never doing this again…at least not any time soon.

Six weeks after delivery

Holy crap, the baby slept for six hours last night.

I feel like I could take over the world.

Maybe I’ll even get a shower today.

I haven’t bled from the nipples in weeks.

This whole parenting thing isn’t that hard.

Oh look, the baby smiled at me. He’s so perfect.

My clothes are starting to fit again!

And my boobs are huge…but I kinda like it that way.

I feel pretty good.

Maybe I could do this again someday…

Three months after delivery

My baby is getting so big.

I can’t believe I’m already packing up all his newborn clothes.

Why am I crying?

photo credit: as if via photopin (license)
photo credit: as if via photopin (license)

He rolled over today for the first time.

He’s going to be crawling in no time.

Then he’ll be off to college.

I’m not ready for him to grow up.

Maybe we should have another baby.

I wouldn’t want him to be an only child after all.

Pregnancy wasn’t really that bad, was it?

And labor went pretty fast. The nurse said I was a natural.

I could do this again.

And there it is, folks. The moment my hormones and my uterus joined forces to completely brainwash me into thinking I need more babies. By the time I successfully talk my far more sensible husband into embarking on my fools journey, the pain of labor, and the sheer Hell that is the nine months leading up to it, are nothing more than fuzzy memories.

As I gaze, doe-eyed and weepy, at the pile of barely worn onesies and booties, I am able to convince myself that having another baby makes economic sense as well. Might as well get the most possible use out of this five-dollar pair of newborn skinny jeans from Target: as if that is a sane thing to say.

It really needs to stop. My uterus needs to be reigned in and some sense talked into her.

No more.

I’m done.

Forever.

Then again, maybe I’ll just hold onto some of these baby clothes, and the crib, and the strollers, and the car seats.

Just in case.
————

Courtesy of Mary Widdicks
Courtesy of Mary Widdicks

Mary Widdicks is a 32-year-old mom to two boys and brand new baby girl. She started Outmanned so she’d have a place to escape the testosterone and share her hilarious life with the rest of the world. Mary’s writing has been featured on parenting sites such as Mamapedia, Mamalode, In the Powder Room, Pregnant Chicken and Scary Mommy. She is a regular contributor on BLUNTmoms and has been honored as a Voice of the Year by BlogHer in 2014 and 2015, and Badass Blogger of the Year for 2014 by The Indie Chicks. Follow Mary on: Outmanned Mommy, Facebook,Twitter, and Pinterest. 

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29 thoughts on “Guest Post: Mary of Outmanned Mommy, on her Uterus”

  1. Aw,, I remember this feeling so well and got to admit it can totally take over and brainwash even the strongest of mamas, but then again I know I wouldn’t change it for the world!

  2. The brain fart, forget how horrible it was is nature ensuring two things:
    1. Survival of the species.
    2. The world isn’t full of “only child” people. (Let’s hear it for the middle child.)

    Loved the post and boy do I relate. Took me three times to learn to say “vasectomy”!

  3. Yes, I think you captured labor and delivery with perfection. I believe i said the same things you did with the same sincerety. I remember thinking, “I don’t want to do this! I don’t want to have a baby! Can’t we just stop it?” And then during labor the first time, my husband’s favorite line of all was, “I think my anus is going to explode!” to which the midwives replied, “Yes, good, that’s exactly how it should feel,” in soothing tones.

  4. I always said only one and we had my daughter. Somehow we had my son too. He’s pretty great. My daughter and husband are on my case constantly to produce a third!
    I’m one of those adorable pregnant women who only gain weight in the stomach, but feel insanely miserable and neurotic on the inside. I mean, it’s bad. Like a phobia. Those nine months terrify much more than delivery, labor and 18 (or 30) years of financial support.
    Basically I need someone to have my third baby for me.

  5. Oh wow, didn’t you ask for a break during delivery? I did, and the doc said NO.

    That’s probably why I didn’t go back.

    Also as there was a latent risk of having to do an emergency c-section, I wasn’t allowed to eat. For hours!! Even more reason not do it again.

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