We were at Kelley Point Park yesterday, enjoying the beautiful weather, when I was forced to approach another mom and apologize for Hazel's ridiculous behavior towards her daughter (4-year-olds who are no longer only children? That's a whole other blog post). The mom, who was overly generous in excusing Hazel's behavior, was 5 days past her due date. FIVE DAYS.
If that was me, I would have gone to my hospital, planted myself in Labor and Delivery, and refused to budge until someone, anyone, put some pitocin in me. I would call it the Occupy and Deliver Movement.
Point is, SO GLAD I AM NOT HER.
She was not pleased that I still had another 5 days until my due date came around. Sorry, lady. Nothing I could do about THAT.
Back to the title of this blog post.
That's me in that picture below! In pants THAT BUTTON! Nine days postpartum, I put on my pants and they fit. Granted, I hadn't even tried them on before that, given that I prefer yoga pants pretty much year-round anyway, but hey! Small victories! Woot woot!
Now, if only my parts would follow suit and heal a little quicker (2nd degree tearing is turning out to be just as unkind as 3rd degree tearing). I have been ordered by my doctor, who knows me too well, to not even TRY to walk up the hill next to my house until Tygh is 2 weeks old. Boo. It's still summer around here and nothing kills my soul like driving when I could be walking or biking.
Soon enough. Soon enough.
P.S. PANTS THAT BUTTON!!
P.P.S. Dear maternity clothes: I hope to see you again NEVER.
