Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Mama Bean misses her pregnancy hair

My hair is falling out.

I really liked being pregnant. I liked growing little Bean. I like wearing maternity clothes, because they're comfy. And I had a perfectly valid reason for my growing pooch, so I didn't have to stress about it, I could show it off! Other than the first three months of sickness and puking, I had very few pregnancy "symptoms." I even slept pretty comfortably until the last few weeks. And my skin! Less oily, but still glow-y, and no pore evacuation sessions in front of the mirror.

I did have some sciatica, which I'd never experienced before, and wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. Being a chiropractor, I see people with sciatica all the time, and now I can relate to their torture. When someone gets relief after treatment, I just fall in love again with what I do. I also had heartburn, but not with enough consistency to bother identifying trigger foods, and not really badly enough to want to change my eating in the first place. I just carried antacids with me for a few months. And not the low sodium kind, or whatever it is they recommend for pregnant women. I like strawberry banana Tums, so that's what I use. When Papa Bean and I took an impromptu nostalgia trip to the Far Northern Reaches, I had to try Pepcid tablets - chalky and gross. But super effective. It's a toss up whether I'd use them again. If Bean's head is any indication, I think it may be true that heartburn during pregnancy makes for a hairy baby. He only just lost the monkey ears and shoulders. Seriously hope the back hair doesn't return for him in puberty.

I didn't really notice my hair changing during pregnancy. Well, I noticed little things, like it was shinier, and I seemed to need less conditioner. And it grew super fast, but I knew that was from all the extra growth hormones running around. I kind of figured most of the changes were from a) different climate in our first full summer in our new province and b) an extremely wet summer, at that.

But now I realize it was also thicker, and rich feeling. Rich, like a buttery, dense chocolate cake. I can say that, right? Without sounding super conceited? Because it's gone now, so it's not like I'm bragging about what it looks like now. Now it's flat, and deflated, and just plain brown. No chocolate. No butter. Just hair. And it's falling out, madly, everywhere. It's in Bean's diapers, and in his crib, and all over the floor, and in the drain. Always, always in the drain.

I hate cleaning the drain. I know we could use a little catcher thing, but then I'd just have to clean the damn thing every day, instead of every few months. Or weeks, as is the case now. It's a gross chore, and I pawn it off on Papa Bean as often as possible. He's pretty good about it. Especially during pregnancy (I got away with a lot during pregnancy) but, of course, I didn't need it much then, because I had the lustrous Uber-Hair of Gestation. Now, the drain needs cleaning all the time, and I can't use nausea as an excuse to get out of it.

Speaking of hair, Papa Bean is a wee bit neurotic about grey hair. He is petrified of them. I tell him they give character. He is not persuaded. I used to refuse to pull them out, and make him live with them, live with his character. And I wouldn't let him pull out my grey hairs, which I've been getting since I was in elementary school. I like my character. But now, I pull his out in exchange for drain cleaning. It's a good trade. Especially now that my pregnancy hair is gone. Down the drain. /sigh.

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