I never quite anticipated the exhaustion

Even though I have an amazing support system…

I have to lean against the stairwell wall to descend safely, each six times per day that I go down to prepare bottles from my pumped milk

My thighs unsteady, my Achilles aching.

“You just had major surgery,” I can still hear the nurse chastising, when I refused pain meds on Day 3.

The majorness now sinks deep into my low back, which sears hot whenever I tilt my pelvis the wrong way

The majorness keeps me from returning to an exercise regimen, my mildly split abdomen struggling to hold me tight

My breathing, once full, is now shallow and full of worry, causing my digestion to slow and body to tense and vent

Tender pink lines crawl all across my pouching lower belly, a forever story of our expansion

Isn’t it great that the body forgets all of this? Someone said to me recently. I won’t forget.