After two kids, I was dropping tampons. But with three, I've got as much muscle tone as the half-ton teen.
Yep. Whatever semblance of a vagina that I was left with after Drew has now completely disappeared.
I suppose I should have expected such things, seeing as the vagina is a muscle, and when you push a few 8lb babies through it, chances are it's not just going to spring back to virginal attention.
But unfortunately, I must have just skipped right past the "Your vagina will resemble a pig intestine" chapter in those pregnancy books.
You're too focused on keeping your baby alive and fed, and yourself bathed and toileted, that you don't really think about your vagina.
Plus, hello. The vagina needs rest and relaxation and to be left the fuck alone anyway.
But just when you feel like you're getting your groove back after five months of your post partum haze - sporting your newly thinner ass and thrice refined muffin top in your old jeans, and not squirting milk at the cry of every baby within two city blocks - you want the sex.
Because you're clean and you smell nothing like baby products and you're wearing your one-minute thong (one minute because that's as long as you can wear it before it starts bothering your hemorrhoids), damnit.
But then you're all like "I want you all the way inside of me" in your deepest, groaniest, sexiest but not too loud so you won't wake the baby voice and he says:
Um, I already am.
And then it's the in and out and in and out like a tire pump pushing air into a deflated balloon that will flap and pffffffrrrt in what would generally be hilariously entertaining but holy Jesus IT'S MY VAGINA.
Then your groans get louder to cover the stray air leaving THE NOT SO FUNNY ORIFICE and you're wishing you had downed a fifth of something more than filtered water or that you had kegeled a few thousand more times and you're desperately squeezing as if that might actually do anything but squeeze more air out.
Yeah. Was there a chapter on this in those books?
Because I really wish I would have read it.