Recovery Woods

Recovery Woods...it's the place where you have given birth and you and the baby are "out of the woods", recovering and doing well.  The place where you both will be wearing diapers, but only one of you will eventually grow out of them. The place where you thought the "all-you-can-eat" Percocet buffet was to numb the pain of delivery, not to blissfully distract you from the truth that although you gave Elastic Man a run for his money, you will not be winning any continent competitions. 

Because while you're baby's bladder is getting stronger, yours' has pretty much decided that it's strength was the best quality you could pass down. While your baby's bladder is learning control and discipline, yours' has decided to find a new dream and become an infamously and poorly knotted water balloon just waiting for it's opportunity to explode, all the while bouncing around with such anticipation to cause an "if I was sent to hell and was condemned to being stung by a jellyfish for eternity, I wouldn't feel a thing" kind of leak. And while your baby's bladder will mentor a camel's hump, yours' will spill when you squat, walk, run, jump, dance, sit, stand, cross your legs, uncross your legs, sneeze, cough, laugh, talk and breathe.

So although it has been two years since my daughters birth and four years since my sons, I am stuck in "Recovery Woods" with no place to "go".