I tiptoe out of the kitchen while the kids are engrossed in their toys, moving stealthily through the living room, past the bedrooms, and finally into what used to be my haven — the master bathroom. With its spacious soaking tub, his and her sinks, and a glass walk-in shower that sparkles when it’s clean, it’s a porcelain paradise.
But ever since the little one arrived, that pristine tub has transformed into a makeshift changing station for months on end. It became an oversized pool for my baby, a party of one — or three, if you count my elbows. The shower? It felt like it vanished altogether during that first year, much like my personal hygiene. Did I shower yesterday or was it the day before? sniff sniff
I carefully remove the childproof door stopper and, with great effort, turn the knob and close the door behind me. I’m practically sweating from the effort, but now I can finally take a moment to breathe. Then I remember…my phone is still in my sweatshirt pocket. Sweet freedom can’t be interrupted, right?
I sit down and dive into my emails, Facebook, and texts. My fingers fly across the screen. It’s a relief to break free from the daily chaos and reconnect with the outside world. I’m enthralled by weekend plans, updates from old friends, Target deals, and the latest political antics. I’m in my happy place — until a familiar feeling creeps in.
I sense the impending chaos before I even hear it. It’s faint but getting closer. I hold my breath, trying to play dead. Then I see tiny fingers sliding under the door, followed by a heart-wrenching scream: “Moooooom!” and the sweet, confused voice of my little one calling for “Daaaaad?”
I’ve barely been gone for two minutes, and yet panic has set in. I could be in serious trouble, or maybe I’m just in the bathroom. Either way, my absence is raising alarms. My little one is still puzzled, and I want to call back, “I’m coming!” but before I can, my partner chimes in, “Moms poop too, buddy.”
Just like that, the facade crumbles. Four years ago, I would have never uttered such a word in front of my husband. I would’ve found ways to hide it, carefully planning my bathroom breaks around his absence, even during our travels. But then came the C-section, followed by a slew of medications that would make anyone’s body act up. The secret was out, and suddenly, modesty was a thing of the past.
“Moms poop too, buddy.” I would have denied such an accusation before, but parenting has changed us, and I’m okay with that. We’ve become more human, embracing the messy realities of life. Plus, there’s too much exciting content to catch up on and that shower is looking more tempting by the minute.
“Yes, Mama’s pooping! I’ll be out in 10.” If you’re interested in more candid discussions about parenting, you might want to check out this other blog post on Cervical Insemination. And if you’re considering home insemination options, make sure to explore the at-home insemination kits from a reputable retailer. For additional resources on pregnancy and home insemination, visit Healthline.
In summary, embracing the realities of motherhood means accepting the not-so-glamorous parts of life. Whether it’s sneaking away for a moment of peace or dealing with the occasional chaos, we find humor and humanity in our shared experiences.