To Bathe Or Not To Bathe: A Postpartum Dilemma

As of today, I am ten weeks postpartum.  Aside from congratulatory and awing remarks about Baby and my recovery, one of the many questions people ask is: Did you take a bath and/or wash your hair during your postpartum confinement?




One of the old traditional Chinese rituals for postpartum confinement is for the new mother not to bathe or wash her hair for an entire month following the delivery of her newborn child(ren).  This practice dated back in ancient China.  The reason behind such practice is so that the cold, harsh air (or chi) should not enter the woman's body and head as she bathes and washes her hair during this vulnerable state.  It is said that all the pores of the woman's body is left opened following giving birth by expelling the fetus, placenta, hormones, and such, leaving the woman susceptible to climate changes.  If precautions were not taken and a woman has allowed water or cold air to touch her body during this period, alas, woe be onto her senior years as she is plagued with ailments far too many to count.

I have been forewarned by many well-meaning ladies to take extra care of myself during my postpartum confinement.  There were horror stories from friends of friends who did not do exactly what was told during the postpartum confinement were now suffering pains and aches here and there.  There were also miraculous stories of women who suffered disorders prior to pregnancy were now cured after they obediently heeded to this ritual. These were robust women could now bear the burden of childcare, household, and a career without ever taking a trip to the doctor's office.  To accomplish this, the first and foremost rule was not to bathe or wash her hair. As this is my third and final child, I have determined to follow the ancient ritual as closely as I could - meaning that I would try my very hardest not to bathe or wash my hair.  

In preparing for such event, I've decided to "practice" during my third trimester pregnancy - to practice not to bathe and not to wash my hair.  My goal was threefold: 1. To practice to sustain my body cleanliness, 2. To practice to ignore the feeling of uncleanliness, and 3. To practice to skip my daily hygiene routine.  I was proud to say that my highest record was 5 days without washing my hair.  I had to see people after all, and any longer than 5 days was deemed horrific.  My estimated due was was dead in the winter so I thought that I could definitely do it if I didn't have to be in the public.  

The first few days after the birth of my dear son, I was entirely too excited and too overwhelmed to let my personal hygiene be on my schedule.  Staying in the hospital in that first few days meant that medical personnel would pop into my room every 18 minutes.  In between the check ups, I was trying to induce breast milk so Baby was feeding around the clock.  Squeezing in a shut-eye was nearly impossible.  Who has time for bath?  I seriously didn't even remember brushing my teeth.

After coming home, the arrival of a brand new member of the family meant that everyone had to adjust to a completely different schedule and dynamics.  Without an easy call-button to summon medical personnels, we were left all alone with a long list of DIY tending to daily routine and the likes. The urgency of Baby's wants and needs took precedent over personal hygiene.

It began as an itch.  An itch so nonchalant that I absentmindedly brushed away.

One predecessor gave me her tips on keeping clean during such time: Her mother in-law boiled hot water mixed with alcohol for her to wipe herself from head to toe daily.  This method is great and all, but the bathroom/bedroom is on a different floor than the kitchen. The logistic of carrying boiling hot water upstairs would prove to be difficult, not to mention that we didn't have an extra helping hand around the house.

There was a tip to obtain dry shampoo.  But adding more material onto a head full of oil and debris seemed counter intuitive.  A witch hazel and alcohol concoction was used but did little to soothe the itch.  So instead, I brushed my hair and put them in braids to avoid attracting dirt and managing.  I also began to wipe my entire body with hot towelettes but soon discovered that the moisture quickly turned cold immediately upon wiping.  So much for keeping the heat in.

The itch, now more pronounced than ever, quickly transformed into oil and grime and flakes and stench.  The oil in the hair has accumulated so much that no hair fixture or product is needed to maintain a hairstyle - if you call pulling all of the strains out of the face a style, that is.  Breast milk stains began to stale - I was wondering if human milk cheese would be a new hype in haute cuisine.    

But then that simple itch multiplied and magnified.  It started to take on a separate identify of its own. The reoccurring itch began to taunt me as if they were daring me not to get rid of them. The filth was beginning to creep under my skin and rouse my mind.  The lingering odor could not be extinguished by sponge baths anymore.  The last draw was when I secretly suspected that Baby's fussiness was a nonverbal cry protesting against his new but odious mother.

In other words, I was as dirty as dirty could be.  

Alas, I have given in to take a hot shower!  Ancient ritual or not, all precautions were thrown overboard. Ancient Chinese did not have heaters; we do now.  Ancient Chinese did not have adjoining bathrooms; we do now.  Ancient Chinese did not have hair dryers; we do now.  Ancient Chinese did not have instant hot running water; we do now.  All I knew was that a bath would return my sanitation and sanity.  

But in order to cheat the system, I would be armed with every toiletry I would ever need so that the bathroom door would stay shut in order to keep the stale cold air out.  I was to be equipped with stacks of towels and clothing so that I may step out of the bathroom, brand new, dried, and warm. Knowing that I would need at least an half hour to scrub the half month worth of grime off my back, everyone in the household was warned the eminent lockdown.  Need to brush your teeth?  Do it now. Get your lotion?  Grab it now. Gotta do your business?  Do it now or be redirected to the adjacent facility.

Stripping off pieces of clothing never felt more liberating.  Even though looking at the post-baby body in its entirety for the very first time could be cruel, rushing sounds of hot running water and clouds of steam coming out of the shower were too inviting to care.  (And frankly, the mirror fogged up too quickly to see.)  That long forgotten fragrance of shampoo and body wash that was combined with luxurious suds and bubbles were as fresh and exhilarating as a butterfly could be when danced in an English garden in the Spring. Never ever underestimate the power of tiny froth.

After scrubbing every portion of my body thrice or more and after standing in the hot shower for what seemed like an eternity, senses kicked in (or rather the thought of gas and water bills come end of month).  It was time to step out of the shower.

Curious things started to happen after I dried myself with a towel and wrapped my hair in the other.  I noticed that I was still wet. Granted, the humidity in the bathroom was 110%, but droplets were forming on my skin.  I turned on the vent and dried myself again.  Wet still.  I picked up the hair dryer and aimed it at the mirror and myself.  To no avail.  I even sheepishly opened a crack to the door to let out some steam.  Totally futile.  I dried the upper body, the lower body sweated.  I dried the lower portion, the upper body sweated again!  I dried the back, the front sweated.  I dried the front, the back sweated again!  I had exhausted all the dried towels I had brought into the bathroom.  Then suddenly it daunted on me.  I was hot.  Too hot.  So hot that I sweated.  The hot water that nearly boiled me to purity was now making the entire bathroom like a sauna and me a sweaty pig!  I got rid of the oil and grime alright.  But in return, I was now wet and sticky. The sweating after the shower was making the shower itself completely pointless!  

By this time, I perspired so much that I was nearly exhausted.  It felt like I just stepped out of an intensive aerobics boot camp.  To shower again was really not an option either since Baby was now calling and boobies leaking.  

In the end, there is some truth to ancient wisdom after all.  After all, there is nothing new under the sun.  Hundreds or thousands of years ago, there must be a group of women as crazy as I was who went through this entire debacle of to bathe or not to bathe, ended with the same predicament as I did, and thus laid down the law of do not bathe for the future generations of women to follow.  

And I had to learn it, the hard way.

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