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Fat Bags

(This is potentially a TMI post.  Read at your own discretion, but it discusses woman bits and you might not want to know me that well).

(You've been warned.)
 
I swear I have looked in a mirror for the past 7.5 months post-partum, but I guess I have always looked at myself from the waist up, and not examined my lady bits and beyond.  I have paid attention to my sometimes-hairy legs when I'm sitting on the floor hanging with Baby L, but again, there is this zone from beneath my belly button to the top of my knees that seems to have gone unnoticed.  Until two nights ago.

Don't ask me why I didn't see it until now.  I have no explanations.

Anyway, to my horror the other night I discovered that I'm growing a second vagina between my legs.  Okay, not literally - that is not possible.  But it almost looks like it.  I mean, I have these soft flabby fat pockets of tissue between my upper thighs, just south of my lady bits.  And when I close my legs together, I swear it looks like a vagina.  A saggy, fat-filled vagina.

It's horrific.  It looks nothing like the fat deposits I have on other parts of my body (except for my tummy from the rapid skin expansion-reduction of pregnancy) and it feels like no other fat on my body, either.  It was so jarring to me, in fact, that despite it being a weekend, and the middle of the night, I took a picture (which has since been deleted and will never see the light of day anywhere except in privileged correspondence with my doctor) and emailed my OB (Dr. Mark Rosengarten) in a panic.  To explain, Dr. R also does cosmetic lipo, and I was already imagining future consultations that he and I would be having to discuss my second vagina problem and the many many procedures I would have to undergo, and the payment plans I'd have to set up to pay for them.

Chubby thighs are cute on Baby L, not me.

Because, you see, fat bags between the thighs are not cute on grown-ups.  Especially grown-ups who plan to wear bathing suits in Hawaii in 4 months' time.  And grown-ups who still want to have sex, and more babies.

Well, my dear doc emailed me back tonight, but the news wasn't nearly as great as I had hoped.




Apparently, this is a common condition. (YAY - misery likes company).

But it is not helped by exercise and it's difficult to get rid of on my own. (BOO - I can't do anything about it through diet and exercise).

He also does not do this particular type of lipo/medial thigh lift. (BOO - he's good and I trust him)!

But he can recommend other cosmetic surgeons who can. (YAY - he knows someone good to refer me to!).

It's also something that I shouldn't do until I'm done having babies. (BOO - I'm stuck with a second vagina for several more years).

But he's willing to help me once I'm ready (YAY - the day I'm done, I am heading in Dr. R!). 
So until then,  I have yet another physical deformity (on top of the stretch marks, the saggy belly, the drooping and still leaking breasts, and the balding head) to keep me humble.  Great.  It's a miracle that Hubbs can still stand to look at me.  At this rate, I'm sure it won't be long until my teeth start falling out and random craters appear on my skin.  Maybe I'll even grow whiskers for good measure.

*sigh*

I love Baby L, don't get me wrong.  I wouldn't trade her for anything in the world, and even if I ended up being the Elephant Lady I would still be glad to have been blessed with her in my life.

But Hawaii? In yoga shorts?! Not so cute as a lovely Modcloth swimsuit.  And I will have to avoid looking at mirrors below the waist again, but this time intentionally.

If you have encouraging words to make me feel better about my hideous deformities, please help me feel less like a post-partum monster.  Because, well, I feel like one today. :(

PS - Even though exercise won't help with my inner thigh issues, I've still renewed my Y membership with the intention of going full boar (pun intended) until I reduce my chub.  Even if I don't get rid of the fat bags, I can try to reduce the size of the fat cells therein, right? Plus the Y has great programs for Baby L and a family pass was practically the same price as just Hubbs and my memberships.


Comments

Good for you on going to the Y. I'm sorry about the tissue. I also have not paid attention to the dead zone since Ollie's birth. Needless to say I jumped up and had to have a look too. I'm actually pure flab from waist to knee. I wish I could go to the Y with you!

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