Granny panties.

I used to only wear granny panties during the seven days of my period.  Now, I wear them every day.  :( And let me be clear.  When I say "granny panties" I am referring to anything that is not a g-string- as in bikini briefs and boy shorts.  Not those up-to-your-nipples, huge, polyester jobs.  To me, anything that is not a g-string or a boy short is just not as sexy so I call it a granny panty.

Here is the thing.  After I gave birth, I lost whatever small curve my tush boasted.  I have never, ever needed a belt in my entire life... but I do now.  However, since I will never wear one, I will forever more walk around town with a severe case of wrinkle butt (karma's a bitch because I've made fun of many a wrinkle butt in my day).  I've mentioned this once or twice before already, I know.  But I am quite traumatized about it.  Apparently, it is true that childbirth does change your body.  However, I WISH I had kept a few of the pounds on and that my hips would have gotten wider.  It's been quite the opposite of all of that for me.  I am slightly thinner than right before I got pregnant and still no hips to speak of.  And since after childbirth my digestion went awry, I have a little tummy whereas before baby, I had a flat tummy with a very feminine and lovely subtle six-pack.  *Sigh*...

I know I can't wish anything back.  I haven't gone back to yoga and I know until I do things aren't just going to magically improve.  I'm not one of those people that sits on a couch eating potato chips wondering why she can't get in shape.  But no matter what exercise regimen I take on, I cant help feel it's not going to get my tush completely back.  So, I'm just not inspired to wear my g-strings because I don't feel sexy. At all.  It's not just about my missing tush either...

It could have something to do with my missing libido.  All day it's baby talk and baby Einstein and baby books and baby diapers and baby songs and baby toys and baby food.  Then add to that the sore nipples, the little time I have to really pay attention to myself and my appearance, and the milk stains on my clothes, and the bags under my eyes, the major hair loss, and the little energy I do have that's used up carrying my almost 20 lb. baby with accessories (usually a very full diaper bag) and that all equals to -again- granny panties and wanting to just get home and go to sleep.

This didn't used to bother me so much because I was freshly postpartum and who wants to even think about sex right after they "push something the size of a watermelon out of an opening the size of a lemon" (to quote Kirstie Alley in Look Who's Talking)? But now I think about it often- yet my body hasn't caught up.  And it feels like it's not going to anytime soon.  Actually, if I'm totally honest with myself, it feels like it's nowhere near the vicinity of even beginning to get close to even slightly considering it.  Yeah... ouch.  It's frustrating.

I'm sure I'd tell some moms this and they would be shocked.  To some of them, there are easy solutions to all of this.  I could stop breastfeeding and give her formula all day, I could get a nanny, I could go shopping for cute clothes, I could be and do less with her.  But there is no way I would do that.  As much as I complain and feel like I'm going to shut down some days, I would not be in this any less than I am.  In "The Continuum Concept", I read that sometimes new mothers resent their roles especially if they were not treated the same way they are treating their babies when they were babies.  Maybe there is some element of that here in my situation.  Sure, my parents loved me very much but they had way different parenting styles and philosophies than I do.  Mine calls for more work, even if not out in the world.

It's not only the lack of feeling sexy, it's the lack of feeling wild and free.  Today I was reading my book (a book about an intuitive's process of stepping into her gift and her path to enlightenment) and in it the author wrote about an experience she had when she traveled alone to Kauai to a meditation retreat.  She had wandered off alone and was relaxing under a plumeria tree.  The leaves above her were blowing in the warm breeze.  She suddenly felt a strong pulsing coming from the trunk of the tree.  She decided to stick with the moment, so she kept her back firmly pressed on the tree to fully feel the vibrations of the tree and as she did she felt a communion with nature and with the tree and suddenly she burst into a full-fledged, blissful orgasm.  It was a beautifully written portion of the book and I loved reading it but at the same time I felt very envious of her (and I reeeeaaallly didn't like feeling that- raw and real as it was).  I was jealous of her opportunity to travel to Kauai alone to meditate and commune with nature.  And even more jealous of her incredible orgasm.  Just like I became jealous this week of a girlfriend who gave us the news she was relocating to a castle in Aix-de-Provence in a few months.  I was so genuinely happy for her but the sleeping lion inside of me wanted to drive my fist into a wall.  It reminded me of feeling open and feeling available to any and all experiences in the world.  The weird thing is, after giving birth, I never felt more like Superwoman.  I felt a confidence and an ability to accomplish anything I want to in life.  But I guess due to lack of energy right now, that part of me is asleep.  That part of me that I soooo love to feel.  The "I am woman hear me roar" part.  The one that puts the windows down when Ani DiFranco comes on and sings at the top of her lungs into the wind.  The one that's so feminist, she could almost be a lesbian. hehe.  I miss my wild woman.  As my healer friend said: "It is known that a mother's aura splits after the birth of her baby to include her child.  This is a mother's protection and lasts up to about the age of two.  Don't worry ... Wild Woman is in there somewhere!  Right now The Mother, as she should be, is out."

... and so are the granny panties!