The Mombod – Six Months On

Now that Finn’s hit the six-month mark it seems as good a time as any for some honest reflection.

Here’s a brief rundown of the past six months, according to my mombod:

The Belly


It’s January and Finn is already a week overdue. I have a friend with a diamond mind and she says the baby just doesn’t want to leave my uterus because it’s a pudding-filled Jacuzzi .

All around me my preggy friends are delivering early, and I feel like a disgusting, sweaty, insomniac meatball. I’m also damn curious to know if it’s a boy or a girl, so the the wait is agonising.

I’m loving my silhouette though 🙂

The Birth


Egad. I am in no way prepared for the pain. Mom, you lied. Admit it.

From the get-go I’m freaked out, and 8 hours into the tough stuff I opt for the epidural. 4 hours later Finn is born with the help of a vacuum thingie. He wiggles out covered in blood and poop, we discover he’s a boy and he has a nom on my breast.

(I will share my birth story at some point, but this is not that post.)

((You know the whole “throwing a sausage down a hallway” vibe? It’s bollocks))

The Boobs


Such was the flatness of my chest that, growing up, my brothers called me Surfboard, Mosquito Bites,  Bee stings, and when they were feeling particularly kind: Noombies. Understandably, I’ve been looking forward to having impractically large breasts.

But, when my milk comes in they’re hard as rocks and my hub and I are genuinely concerned that they’ll explode. I do enjoy admiring them from all angles though when I have time to shower. (Shower time is sacrosanct; a post-birth ritual that I totally took for granted before I had a baby)

The Blade


Alas, my boobal magnificence is short lived. My superhero chesticles are not long for this world. I am doomed to be oddly racked.

 When Finn is a month-and-a-half old I have emergency surgery to remove a gigantic abscess. As a result, I’m left with one weird shrunken Frankenboob, while the other side picks up the slack, turning into Superboob; one boob to rule them all. I am so lopsided that I walk in circles when I don’t concentrate.

On the bright side, I can keep breastfeeding on the super side and my little man gets rounder and squishier every day.

The Bleakness


Two months in and I’m just worn down. My body feels weak after the birth, the episiotomy and the breast surgery. My emotions are ALL over the place, I miss my mom and I’m not coping. I feel like a failure because I had an epidural, and because I’ve not taken to motherhood like some people do.

Sometimes I think that if Finn dies in his sleep it’ll be for the best.

It’s not a good place to be and I know I need help.

The Bettering


After seeing a doctor, and then getting a second opinion, I’ve decided to go on a course of SSRIs. This decision in itself is pretty tough because I’ve always been conflicted about anti-depressants. But right now I need to keep it together; I need to take care of this little life.

I am so grateful for the help.

And now that I’m not brought to tears at the sight of my freak-show breasts, now that I can make simple decisions like “Coffee or tea?” without losing it, I’m starting to see how awesome my child is. Damn, he’s so freaking awesome.

Sometimes, at night, the hubber and I joke about going into his room and waking him up just so that we can all hang out together.

 In fact I like him so much I even have a list of my favourite moments:

  • When I check to see that he’s still breathing, and he is
  • When he smiles at his dad
  • When I go to fetch him after a nap and he grins up at me like a gummy Cheshire cat
  • When I pick him up and he latches onto my chin
  • When he’s done feeding and pops off my breast with a happy sigh
  • When he falls asleep in my arms
  • When he giggles
  • When he lies awake making fart noises instead of napping

This list grows every day.

It’s taken me months to get used to being a mom, and now I’m loving it so much that I don’t want to do anything else.

For a while it was difficult to get used to the change in pace. Going from managing a team at a busy marketing agency to stay-at-home momming has been a major shift. But, I tells ya, I get more satisfaction from seeing my boy smile at Incy Wincey Spider than I ever did from nailing a client brief.

In fact, as I type this Finn’s doing pushups and making pterodactyl noises, and I’ve never been more content in my life.



6 thoughts on “The Mombod – Six Months On

  1. This was so honest and lovely, thank you for writing!
    I had a similar thing with a Frankenboob – not as a result of an access (nightmare), but some bad blocked ducts that developed in the early days. ‘Little Boob’ never really caught up supply wise, and so baby favoured the other boob, reinforcing the lop-sided situation.

    Anyway, I’m telling you this because my baby is now 21 whole months old and fed til she was 18 months. The boobs DO even out in the end, I promise. I was also totally sad and freaked out by this situation, but it won’t stay like this. In retrospect I really should have gone onto some kind of anti-depressant because it is just so flipping haaaard in the beginning. Well done.

    Plus, one day will start exercising and feeling strong again and not feel like you are stuck in some weird meat-sack that has nothing to do with your original body. And by ‘exercising’ I mean I went back to yoga a couple times a week when baby was 10 months old, more for my own sanity.

    Good luck! (Long comment, but this post really struck a chord with me)

    • Ah, Lauren your comment made my day 🙂 Thank you so much. I’m really happy to hear that the boobs balance out again – I’ve been mentally preparing for modest swimsuits.

      Congrats on keeping a human alive for nearly 2 years, AND for breastfeeding to 18 months! I’m hoping I can make it for that long, and it’s encouraging to hear that it can be done with only one working boob.


      PS – Weekly yoga = totally legit.

      • Also have a listen to (if you haven’t already). Digging through the site and hearing about her less than stellar birth experience helped put things in perspective for me.
        She put me on to going to a pelvic floor therapist, as I wasn’t 100% happy with how things were after the birth. (I didn’t have an episiotomy, but did tear).
        Most likely too much info, but wish someone had told me at the time 😉

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