Emily has a short week of school this week. Consequently there is no Show and Tell. This is probably a good thing.
Yesterday afternoon I put my feet in the stirrups at the midwive’s office to get my new IUD. I had planned to have Emily watch Lucy for me but it was late in the afternoon and Lucy was hungry and wanting her mama. Lucy ended up in my lap which meant Emily was free.
She was standing by my feet. “Can I … see what she is doing?”
“Sure, just don’t bump in to my leg, please, and stay out of Rachel’s way.” My seven-year-old disappeared behind the sheet covering my knees.
“Is that blood? Is it period blood or blood blood? Why is betadine orange? Does it hurt? Why are you squeezing your toes? Are you making that noise to make Lucy laugh or because it hurts? Is that where Lucy was? How did she fit in there? When you were having a baby you kept saying “I can’t do it” and you were crying. That’s the part that is scary. So, what exactly is your vagina? Where is that?”
On our way to the car I said “I don’t think very many seven-year-olds have seen their mother’s cervix. Was that neat? Or kind of weird?”
“Well, I thought I would just have to sit there and watch Lucy and that it would be… Lame. That was not lame.”
When I got up this morning this is what I saw at the kitchen table. I don’t think her cervix sighting has irrevocably changed her. Although she has a certain “I am Woman, Hear Me Roar” flair, no?
In other news I snapped a picture of Lucy after she finished nursing just now. She doesn’t look like a kid who has a mother with low milk supply to me. I am ever vigilant, but so far so good.