Damn, I’m sorry. That was a really bad, punny title. Can’t help it, I’m cranky. Post-partum hair loss is the pits. The absolute pits. About three months after Finn was born, my hair started falling out – I still recall the horror I felt the first time I put my hand to my hair, and came away with a handful. It sinks my stomach just thinking about it. It was so utterly, utterly depressing, having a rapidly receding hairline. I really quite like my hair, you know. (And I can’t say that about many parts of me.) I was thrilled when it finally stopped, at about 7 months, and I started growing little wispy bits of fringe.
Anyway, almost since I first discovered I was pregnant again, I have been steeling myself for the advent of the next fallout. Three months came and went, and no hair loss. I found myself daring to think maybe this time would be different. Nup. It has begun. Crap. Crap. Crap.
Spare a thought for my poor vacuum cleaner in the coming months. I should probably cut my (remaining) hair a bit shorter now, to save the plumbing, too.
The good news? (Because I’m trying really hard to see a brighter side!) I read recently that worms apparently really like to eat hair (kind of ick, I know). So I’m collecting what I lose to put into our super-groovy new compost bin, and hopefully this will lure the worms in, and we’ll have some lush, rich compost in a few months time. It gives me a bit of a warm cycle-of-life kind of feeling, to be returning something to the Earth, despite how depressed it makes me in the meanwhile.
Bah. Forgive my self-indulgent moaning. I’ll get over it. It will grow back. I’m off to find all my cool stretchy headwraps now 🙂