I look a bit more alive . . . must have had a shower that morning. Tummy still swollen, shrinking but swollen. I am still bleeding — it's like the period that never ends. Am out of my pj's, rocking pregnancy clothes instead (see, you do get more than one use for those!). Boobs are like rocks. My poor husband. If he even thinks about going near those knockers, he will get a swift slap.
I will be honest: I do feel better this time postbirth than I did with my first son. Not fighting horrendous mastitis surely will be playing a large part of that (see why I am not exclusively breastfeeding here). The other, is I am kinder to myself. I am not out trying to walk for an hour or more a day like I did first time around. I have basically told friends to come and visit in about three months time (I am sorry, but I know you understand).
In case you are wondering — that lovely scar down my belly is from some major abdominal surgery I went through as a 21-year-old. Was split open six times after an appendix operation went wrong. Two pregnancies have morphed and stretched this. Never mind, it just becomes the "feature piece" of my stretch marks. May have to reconsider my dream job as a bikini model . . .
