True love is...

I should be glad that to the majority of the people reading this blog, I'm just the crazy, anonymous (blogger previously known as) Prego. For those of you who do know me personally... I apologize for this post, but it probably doesn't surprise any (either) of you that I would openly discuss this on my blog.

One of the less-glamorous parts of childbirth (okay... having been through it, I can tell you there is nothing glamorous about childbirth unless you're fortunate enough to be packed with enough drugs that you aren't aware of the absolute lack of glamor) is the fact that a child's head simply is bigger than a 10 cm. hole that your vagina becomes. Physics are just not on the side of that once-happy little orifice. And for most women, this results in tearing in a very unhappy place (or, if it doesn't tear, the doctor will often take the liberty of cutting in said unhappy place).

After birth, the doctor will stitch and mend and try to piece together what was once your taint. I got stitched. It was very uncomfortable afterwards (especially since I had a HORRIBLE upper respiratory infection... imagine taint stitches, PLUS uncontrollable coughing). I was told the stitches would dissolve within 7-10 days. Okay. It's now been 13 days and I was wondering if the stitches had dissolved yet.

I'm also very very squeamish about stitches, needles, blood, etc. I didn't want to feel around down there to see if there were stitches. I'd probably -- most definitely -- pass out.

And this is where the true love of a wonderful husband comes in. I've made strange requests of A. in the last 10 months, all of which he's dutifully carried out. Or laughed at me and told me I'm batshit crazy. But today he came home and I cautiously started out with my wary "Baby?..."

"Uh-oh," he sighs. "What now? More Oreo pie?" (Edwards makes a fabulous Oreo cream pie that I cannot recommend highly enough.)

"Um, no...." I said. "Will you check and see if my taint stitches dissolved?"

The end result was a little bit of gymnastics and flexibility that hadn't been tested in god-knows-how-long (Crazy Prego wanted nothing to do with that horrible act that put us in this sticky situation), a flashlight, and a whole lot of love and patience on A's part. I know he's often the tragic hero of this blog, falling into dog shit and all, but this was one instance where I cannot praise him highly enough. I love my husband and the fact that he tolerates my craziness.

And my taint stitches have indeed dissolved. If you were wondering.