by Kelly Wilbanks posted in Parenting

My 3-year-old daughter's first question after laying eyes on her baby sister was: "Where's her teeth!"" Her second, after laying eyes on my postpartum body, was "Are you going to have another baby""
I've heard of postpartum bellies mysteriously disappearing after baby is born, but my "baby house" just becomes a slightly smaller Jell-O balloon. It makes me almost miss being pregnant when my belly was firm and full of purpose. Almost.
I know my belly will shrink. I focus on my newborn, on my 22-month-old and my 4-year-old, and keeping them alive is enough. Getting enough sleep to stay sane, doing enough laundry to stay dressed, and keeping enough dishes cycling to eat, is enough.
I have accepted the limits imposed by small children. I have endured the extra weight while I wait for my body to heal. I've been patient as our family has met unforeseen challenges and setbacks this year.
It's not that my children come first -- it's that they can't come in second. My needs always take something away from someone else. It's either me or "fill in the blank." I am the magical, shape-shifting answer to the needs of my home, my children, and my husband.
It feels good to be needed, but there's a tension. I need me too. I don't want to drive myself mad with longing for what I don't have, but I don't want to look like I'm pregnant forever.
In case you can't tell, this is isn't a feel-good ess...