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For the love of God woman, use a donut cushion!
The new personality of your vagina has some sage postpartum words for you, helping to integrate your new badass self with your new badass vagina. I’ll go ahead and assume the voice of your vagina, so let’s pretend she has a British accent.
1. I damn well deserve to be called by my proper name now.
Once your vagina has gone through the big girl task of birthing a baby, it deserves to be called by its proper name. No more “down there,” “va-jay-jay,” “pink lady,” or “my petunia.” It’s vagina, and Queen Vagina to the men.
Remember the ditty ‘Do Your Ears Hang Low?’ Well, I’ve tweaked the lyrics a bit to apply to my current situation. Here goes:
Do your boobs sag down, do they jiggle to and fro? Do they swing to the right and then reach down to the floor?
At least I think they’re mine.
The postpartum boob transformation occurred quicker than the flick of a baby finger. “My” breasts were small, perky and fluid-free. These new things attached to my chest are droopy bags — albeit fabulous droopy bags. They fill with and distribute milk — fabulous — but they’re just so different and devoid of perkiness.
And “my” stomach, where did that come from? It’s flattish, wide and different. It’s so different from the stomach I came to know so well.
Come to think of it, the only parts of my naked postpartum body I recognize are my knee caps. They’re not saggy. Yet.