No, you cannot have my midwife's name.

I'm going to lay this out here: this post is not for the humorless, easily embarassed, or my brothers.

Luca was delivered by midwife, and I love that woman. She's warm, funny, kind, personable, calm...everything you could want in a medical professional. She works at my OB's office, so I continue to go to her for all the 'girly' stuff we chicks go to Drs for. After I had Luca, we talked about birth control, and she suggested the Mirena IUD. An IUD (unlike a UTI, MERE!) is a small device - this one is plastic - that is inserted in the uterus. It prevents pregnancy through hormones, blocking eggs from implanting, and gypsy magic. Ok, I made up the gypsy magic. It's great for women who have had one successful pregnancy at least, no ectopic pregnancies, and are monogomous. Added bonuses: low hormone dose, no pills to forget, it can stay in place up to 5 years, and the potential of pregnancy is less than 1%. So, I had it inserted last summer when Luca was about 2 months old. So far, so good.

Until last weekend. All the sudden, I started having pains in my lower abdomen. The pains felt like they were in my uterus and were pretty constant. One of the things Mirena users are told is to see your Dr if you have pain in that area, so I did. I went in to see my midwife today. She asked me a series of questions, then did the old jab and jolt routine. The prognosis: I'm ok. Mostly.

You see, as my midwife explained, we post-baby women are a confused and forlorn bunch in the s-e-x department. During pregnancy, your baby takes over your body and soul. The baby is born, and your body is totally different and, usually, kinda not hot. If you breastfeed, your boobs are for the baby. You feel at once like a goddess who created beautiful, perfect life and like a 4th grade science fair experiment gone horribly awry. So, often after giving birth new moms complain of pain during sex, and really it's not physical pain as in something medically being wrong. It's more like psychological 'please god let him finish soon so I can catch up on old episodes of America's Next Top Model on You Tube before the baby wakes up from naptime' pain.

Her remedy: invest in a nice detachable showerhead, and when it's time to 'do him' (her phrasing, not mine), take a shower first. Just you, your detachable showerhead, and a little steam. Once you're *ahem* "done", you'll be relaxed and ready to 'do him'.



I kid you not. This was the advice from my midwife. Now, I know some would be offended by this sort of advice. I am not some. I found this to be both the most honest and the most hilarious conversation I have EVER had in a Dr's office.

Moms, you can thank me later.