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.