When I first made the decision to have kids, never did I realize how much it would age me. Oh sure, our kids keep us youthful when it comes to being “in the know” about the coolest toys, gadgets, shows, music and fashion, but I’m not talking pop culture here, I’m talking physical aging.

It all started somewhere around delivery… As much as I wanted that baby out, my body was not prepared for what that truly meant. My slow contractions, were causing the hospital staff to consider speedier methods - everyone knows they want you in and out of that place faster than a drive-thru. That’s when the nurse came to talk to me about Pitocin. Those of you have had an IV drip filled this evil drug know exactly where I’m headed. She told me how it would increase my contractions and speed up the delivery. “Don’t worry she promised, it will still increase gradually.” NOT TRUE!!! Pitocin is like contractions on steroids. They’re permanently set at maximum intensity and there is but a blink of a pause in between, and that’s only if you’re really lucky. So intense was this pain, that even I, Miss go natural, granola pants actually thought that maybe the epidural was a viable option. Although I didn’t end up taking it - foolish girl that I am, I still want to warn all of you out there: If Pitocin is pushed on you, refuse it. If you have to take it for a valid medical reason then please, please be wiser than I was and take the damn epidural. The stress and trauma of this moment aged me two-fold. The war-torn damage to my nether regions, the broken blood vessels on my face and the Jay-Leno like tuft of grey hair that hides under my side part are all physical examples of the damage.

Onto breastfeeding… Lack of sleep, poor latching, bleeding nipples, crying outbursts - that of both my baby and my own, dreaded colic (yes, even some breastfed babies get it too - don’t be fooled); All of this took an emotional and physical toll that cannot be denied. That’s when dark circles and memory loss began to manifest.

After that came the four month bout with hairloss. Yes, so traumatic is the act of giving birth, that your body’s hormones take a full 4 months to recalibrate themselves, leaving you with what I like to call the 4 month fall-out! That’s when clumps of your hair begin to fall out in the shower, on the floor, on your pillow, basically, everywhere! If you think this part is bad, wait for the regrowth period. It’s especially lovely. ; )

Once you think that things have settled down and routines are in place, shazam!!! Your baby learns to crawl… Chasing around a little Christopher Columbus as he sticks his finger everywhere he shouldn’t, puts everything possible into his mouth or tries to climb stairs that even you find precarious, is enough to send your cortisol levels into overdrive. Yup, I’m talkin’ STRESS baby! Toddling behind your toddler to keep him safe from harm’s way also means that your house will look like Mr.Dressup’s tickle trunk exploded in it, doing laundry will now become a week-long affair and peeing alone in the bathroom is something you will only dream of.

After that comes more sleepless nights, tantrums in the grocery store, your child’s first bout with a gastro-intestinal bug, chicken pox, bumps, bruises, fevers and more. Basically, enough things to make you worry, worry and worry some more for the rest of your life, or at least what you have left of it.

Yup, while I might look reasonably good on the outside, don’t be fooled; My once Thirty-something year old body has quickly begun to rise on the real age scale. Oh sure, I put the odds on my side, eating anti-oxidant rich foods, doing exercise and slathering on those peptide creams, but when all is said and done, I still wish that someone would have warned me so that I could have mentally prepared myself for what it truly means to the body to have become a mom. Would I change it? No, but I would have preferred to have seen it coming instead of having been blind-sided. Armed with this new-found knowledge, let’s get out and warn our pregnant girlfriends!

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