The mockumentary, set in New York City, features recitals for the fictional Postpartum: The Musical, written and performed by a traumatized new mom. The song “Vaginal Fallout” was my personal favourite. How can you not laugh when she sings: “I expelled that placenta but the fun starts now/Because hon, my hoo-haw, who knows how?/I tore my placenta, so I sometimes bleed./Plus, I raise this arm. And whoops, I peed.” And, as a mom of three kids, I think I may have peed a little while laughing at that line.
Hello Flo is a women’s health company that sells subscription period boxes, but they’re best known for their hilarious Camp Gyno and First Moon videos promoting their products. They’ve expanded their services to include a New Mom Kit that has Always pads, nipple cream and Aunt Kate leak-free underwear with a built-in pad (I hope it’s not TMI to tell you that I love the panties!) and some other cute surprises.
Let’s face it, those first few weeks after giving birth can be shocking. Setting aside the fact that you’re now caring for a new baby, your own body is experiencing some interesting after-effects that, in your pre-baby life, would have had you sequestered in your bedroom with Advil and Netflix.
Sure, the experts told you to put some pads in your hospital kit. There was some vague mention of postpartum bleeding in a random pamphlet you picked up and you’d heard a bit about chapped nipples from your friends. But did anyone tell you that you could have a period on steroids for weeks after giving birth? Did anyone clue you in to the fact that a small chill can send electric shocks through your entire body that start at your nipples? Or that simple acts like going to the bathroom would require painkillers, forbearance and some meditation?
After I had my first baby via C-section, I didn’t think anything could surprise me the second time round. I was wrong. Thanks to a torn perinieum, I was soaking my netherbits in witch hazel and spraying the stuff all over the bathroom just to get some relief. There wasn’t enough lanolin in the world for my right nipple. Sure, I can laugh about the rubber glove full of ice that I stuck in my underwear now, but it wasn’t so funny then. (OK, it was a little funny.)
If Postpartum: The Musical were an actual production I’d grab some of my friends and buy tickets. We would all laugh until we peed into our leak-free underwear. And maybe shed a few tears as well.
Read more: A love letter to my postpartum body>
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