I always enjoyed having long, curly, thick hair. But each pregnancy only made my hair thicker and curlier. After lying on a long ponytail for 40 days with Megan, I couldn’t take it anymore. Two days after we brought her home from the NICU, I nursed her, handed her to Christopher, and said, “I’ll be back in an hour.” I went and got a good haircut. It was just about the only time I left her until she was weaned fifteen months later. She never would take a bottle.
With Gavin, although I wasn’t on strict bed rest, my hair got longer, thicker, and curlier once again. So a week or two after he was born, I freaked out and got a drastic haircut. I was going for second season Felicity or the new version of Sabrina, but I couldn’t pull it off like Keri Russell or Julia Ormond.
And about six weeks ago, just a few days before I landed myself in the hospital, I was driving along and thought, “My hair sure is getting long. I’d better get it cut before I end up on bed rest and it drives me crazy.”
You know the rest. I’ve been on bed rest for five weeks now. And last night, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I essentially ordered my husband to cut my hair. The last time I ordered my husband to do anything, because he generally doesn’t appreciate it, was 30 weeks and 1 day ago.
I took a few things for granted with the whole home haircut thing. For example, just because my husband is a brilliant rocket scientist does not mean he can cut a straight line. And because he likes my hair long, I figured he wouldn’t take much off. But to give him credit, he was using a two dollar pair of scissors, and we forgot to consider Hooke’s law of elasticity, which basically says that if you even think about trimming my hair, it will recoil like a wounded animal.
But it’s okay. It’s just hair. And I’ll be in bed for another five weeks, and then I’ll probably be too tired to leave the house for a month after that, so in eight weeks or so, I’ll go get my hair fixed, a pedicure, and an eyebrow wax. I’ll put on some clothes and some makeup, and re-enter the world of the living.
As a side note, home hair cuts have happened three other times in our house. Christopher cut Gavin’s, I cut Christopher’s, and Megan cut her own. The results are shown below. My dear husband and I made a solemn pact last night that there will be no hair cutting in our house ever again.