The Great Baldening

When I was pregnant, I got a spectacularly backhanded compliment from a woman at my office that went something like this:  "You look so good pregnant!  You have such a healthy glow, and your hair is so thick and full.  You're so much prettier pregnant!"

Um, yeah, thanks.  I think.  

But she was right.  I had awesome pregnancy hair.  While I don't have thick hair, stylists have always commented that I have a lot of it and during pregnancy it just grew and grew.  It felt thick for the first time ever.  It was long and lush and shiny.  I even loved the way it made my face look; it somehow seemed to balance me out better and looked fantastic in pictures. 

I don't know why this GIF exists, but it's awesome.

God, I miss my pregnancy hair.

I always knew that it wouldn't last, and that it would go back to normal somewhere around 3 to 6 months after Q was born.  I even knew that it would fall out in pretty noticeable amounts, and I thought I was prepared for that.

I was SO not prepared for this.  Holy shit, you guys.  Holy shit.  It is falling out like WHOA.  

Every time I shampoo, I pull out handfuls.  I have to be careful to pile it on the side of the tub when I shower lest I clog the drain.  Then, just when I think I'm done and there can't possibly be more, I get out of the shower and dry my hair, following which my bathroom floor looks like the floor of a hair salon and I need to sweep.  Our bathroom garbage can is 87% hair at this point (fact: the other 13% is tissues with spit up and used breast pads).  While I wear my hair in a ponytail most of the time, on the few occasions I've tried to wear it down I just can't make it look right.  It looks thin and flat, and I have giant gaps in my bangs on both sides of my forehead.

Most annoying is the fact that now there is simply hair everywhere.  If I so much as scratch my head or run my fingers through my hair, at least a few strands fall out.  There is constantly one hair that is tickling me somewhere.  I pull it off my husband's shirt before he leaves for work.  I pick it off my child when he plays on the carpet.  I pull it out my vacuum cleaner's brush bristles and wonder if Locks for Love would accept the contents of my vacuum bag as a donation, for they could surely make several childrens' wigs out of it.  And the other day while walking the dog, I pulled it out of my dog's asshole when one turd stubbornly refused to drop, dangling like a pendulum from his butt by a single long brown hair.

Yes, this is a dental floss dispenser shaped like a dog butt.

The day I pull it out of my baby's ass is the day I just shave my fucking head.