Saturday, 17 December 2011

Who was I kidding?

As previously mentioned, I had agreed to stand in a wedding on the 29th of July. Luckily I had Avery on her due date which gave me 11 whole days to whip my body back into shape for my best friend's big day. Obviously I was living in some kind of postnatal La La Land. 

Two things need to be noted about this situation. First of all, the bride is one of my best friends in the whole world who is now married to one of my favorite significant others. She had called me when I was about five months pregnant and said to me, "I can't get married without you standing up there with me." I'm not one to break up a marriage before it starts. She also said that I could wear whatever black dress I wanted and if I couldn't be there because I was still pregnant or just had the baby or for any reason of the like, that was fine. 

Gill and I doing a fierce maternity shot at her bridal shower

The second thing that should be noted is that women who have just had a baby have a complex. A friend of mine told me about this before I had Avery but I fell for it and payed for it after. The complex is that immediately after you give birth, you feel like a super model. You have this incredible urge (stifled by your throbbing vadge) to jump in the shower, blow out your hair, and put makeup and high heels on. 

I think it comes from waddling around for so long and then all of a sudden your enormo belly is gone. The problem is, you do not look as good as you think you look. Similarly, you do not look as good as people tell you you look. 

I look back at pictures of myself on facebook from the hospital and in the days shortly after coming home, and all my friends and family are like, "Oh Lauren! You look soooooo amazing! You look soooo beautiful! I can't believe you just had a baby!" What a load of bullshitters. Yes, friends who are reading this, you are full of shit. 

I looked like a manatee with an up do at Gill's wedding (but didn't know it at the time). I had to stuff my 40 Es into a sort of black tarp that I managed to find online. My child was having a growing spurt and hanging off my boobs all day. My mother had to drive behind the bus so that I could randomly breastfeed in between pictures. If it wasn't for the fact that I was standing in a wedding that day, I probably would have just not worn a shirt. 

Yet, all I heard all day was, "Oh my GGGGGGODDDDD! You look SO GOOOOOOD! I can't believe you had a baby 11 days agooooo!!!"

Liars. I was 40lbs heavier than normal and when I look back I feel bad for Gill that she had a large water mammal as a bridesmaid. Although, considering the fact that her maid of honor was 8 months pregnant, and one of her lushy (slash amazing) sisters was in a boot cast because she had fallen of a table while dancing, I probably fit in. Most importantly, Gill looked amazing and was not at all stressed out by the fact that I spent most of her wedding day with at least one of my knockers hanging out. 

Looking back, I'm actually glad I agreed to do it because between her stagette, the wedding itself and all the other wedding planning festivities, I physically did not have time to have the baby blues. While Brad was home sobbing for two solid weeks (no joke, he was super over emotional when Avery was born), I was bopping around with the wedding party and Avery in a sling.  

By the time she was 12 days old, Avery boasted a better social life than a lot of people I know. She was quite the party animal and very popular with both males and females alike. 

Obviously babies were the new black. 

Sadly, Gill's wedding was the only wedding I had ever been invited to that was open bar and I didn't have enough milk frozen at the time to go on the bender that I would have gone on had I not had a child. Brad took one for the team though and enjoyed quite a number of complimentary beverages. Once again, such a good guy, that husband of mine. He was pretty determined to not allow Gill and Dan's money go to waste. 

So, the moral of this story is, no matter what everyone tells you, and no matter how awesome you feel, you probably look like shit. Unless you're one of those bitches who only puts on five pounds your whole pregnancy and then wears your own jeans home from the hospital. For the record, I'd like to punch you guys in the throat. Just sayin'. 

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