The bright fluorescent lights and cold air sliced through the operating room. No soft lighting from the lamp on the nightstand. No gentle breeze from bedroom ceiling fan. No walks in the backyard under the giant oak tree through hours of labor. An emergency C-section. She wasn’t supposed to be born this way.
My lower and middle back is stiff and achy, and my ribs feel as if they’re about to split apart. Even though the chiropractor is working on my back, along with my slightly misaligned hips, I feel as if I’ve inhabited someone else’s body. The skin on my back has sprouted something akin to acne*, which I’ve never had to deal with as an adult, except for the occasional pimple or two on my face when I get my period. I have to wear a pantiliner every day, because sometimes when I sneeze or cough or laugh, a bit of pee leaks out. Continue reading “Maternal Metamorphosis”