Brody - The fifth trimester: the working moms guide to style, sanity, and big success after baby

Chapter One
Whos Taking Care of Your Little Person?

Chapter Two
The Second Cutting of the Cord (This One You Feel)

Chapter Three
Getting Through I Have to Quit
YOUR FIVE-STEP PAIN-FREE PLAN

Chapter Four
On Looking Human Again (A Noble Goal)
PART 1: BEAUTY

Chapter Five
On Looking Human Again
PART 2: YOUR BODY AND STYLE

Chapter Six
On Feeling Human Again
YOUR MOST ESSENTIAL GOAL

Chapter Seven
Pumping Doesnt Have to Suck

Chapter Eight
The Easiest Way to Win at Reentry
MANAGE UP, MANAGE DOWN, MANAGE SIDEWAYS

Chapter Nine
That Whole 50/50 Partnership Thing
(AKA: THE CHAPTER THAT KEEPS YOU MARRIED)

Chapter Ten
What If Youre Your Own Boss?
ULTIMATE FREEDOM, ULTIMATE PRESSURE

Chapter Eleven
Master Your New Time Off

Chapter Twelve
Eighteen Life-Changing Conversations
HOW TO INITIATE THEM, AND EXACTLY WHAT TO SAY

In a perfect world, youd read the whole thing at a leisurely pace while pregnant. But if its too late for that, heres a quick skim de la skim of a bunch of the tips inside. Zip on over to whatever info you need most now:

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A s soon as I heard my husbands shower running, I changed my mind.

Id been up since 4:30 a.m., hanging out on the couch, having a much calmer early labor than Id imagined. My water hadnt broken, and the pain wasnt anything I couldnt handle. Id felt just not-right enough to get out of bed, proud of myself for resisting the urge to nudge my sleeping spouse awake. Ben, who was finishing up his first year of medical residency at a big hospital nearby, worked hard. We both did. And I wasnt about to pull the rookie move of waking him up just to watch me have one manageable contraction every twenty minutes. If these things even were contractions. Surely Id have at least one round of false labor, I thought.

By the time Bens alarm went off at 6:15, I was pacing the floor, as much as one could pace in our little apartment.

Definitely shower and go to work, I told him breezily, as he gave me a hug and wrinkled his forehead, looking one part skeptical, two parts impressed. Im fine. Its going to be so many hours. I figuredif this was even realId call him when things got interesting. Id grab a cab, and hed leave his department and meet me a couple of floors down at Labor and Delivery. Simple. Low-maintenance mother-to-be. Thats me. Plus, it was a Monday. Id finished up my last day of work on Friday, spent the weekend getting organized like a maniac (nestingrightthat must have been nesting), and wanted at least half a day to sit around and do nothing for the first time since college. Maybe Id go to a movie or watch all the junk TV Id never had time for. I didnt even know which channels were the junky ones.

My cervix had other plans. Over the course of Bens four-minute shower, I had two contractions. And as I leaned over the desk chair in the living room swaying my hipsin a way Id never been comfortable doing on a dance floorI changed my mind. We were having a baby. Today. Now.

On our way out the door, Ben grabbed the bag Id so lovingly packed a full two months earlier: a blanket, a first little going-home outfit, our good camera, nursing bras, maternity yoga pants. We looked at each other, wide awake and thrilled. Here we go.

Oh my God, wait! I said as we buzzed for the elevator. I forgot my folder!

Your folder? he asked. Why do you need a folder?

I ran back in toward the bedroom, stopping to have another contraction leaning over that same chairsway, sway, sway, doneand grabbed a yellow folder that held everything I would not want to be doing during my time in the hospital: insurance paperwork; maternity leave disability information from my employer, a big media company; and, yes, some actual work that I took with me from the office before tearfully hugging my boss at Glamour magazine goodbye on Friday. Id do it in labor, I thought. Ha! There was a famous story inside my industry about a particularly She-Ralike editor-in-chief whod faxed back edited copy to the office minutes before pushing out her fifth child. My own bosss boss had taken a quick two-week leave with her first child, and was photographed and interviewed by The New York Times (dressed in Miu Miu, in her beautiful Soho loft) just days after having her second baby. This was what women did, I thought. They balanced!

You know how the rest of this story goes. I did not do any actual work at the hospital.

What I did do was: have a pain freak-out, then an immediate epidural (Id arrived at four centimeters dilatedstill proud of that). From the hospital bed, I did a little bit of texting, a lot of moaning, and made a couple of elated high-on-the-epidural phone calls to friends and familynot the officeand then, finally, I gave birth. Easily, thankfully, with my awesome husband cheering for me harder than hes ever even cheered for his beloved Pittsburgh Steelers. Our son was born. And with eyes nearly swollen shut and a face full of baby acne, he was the most gorgeous thing Id ever seen. That work folder? It sat.