Yesterday someone on here called me a fatass. Somebody I don’t even know. A total stranger. A troll. My first reaction was my stomach dropping to my butt in full blown anxiety. Why would someone be that mean to me? Especially on such a beautiful post that has resonated with so many women + mothers + soon to be mothers. I look at the picture I had posted and only see beauty. Curves and rolls and stretch marks—all given to me from the life changing process that is growing a human within your body. I let those feelings of insecurity and shame roll over my shoulders, down my back and onto the floor. Remembrance of bullies in elementary, middle and high school flood my brain as I try and let go of the pain that some random persons words caused me. Tears were streaming down my face and that’s when it hit me,
What’s so wrong with being fat? What’s wrong with curves? What’s wrong with these tiger stripes, and the way these creamy rolls fold up when I lay a certain way? We have GOT to separate the negativity associated with the the word f a t. I’m fat and that’s OK. I love salads with my cookies and I’ll drink an effing milkshake with my organic quinoa salad. It’s about balance and it’s nobody’s business but my own!
I’m gently reminding myself every single day that my own body image, self worth and self love are not dependent on what other people think of me. My body is exactly where it needs right now and nobody, I mean NOMOTHAF*CKINGBODY is going to tell me anything different.
Almost a faint memory, yet one I miss so much. When you become a mother you learn so much about yourself. You learn that God made you to be exactly what your children need. You learn that with each journey there are strengths & weaknesses, nobody’s the same as the other’s. You learn to embrace what you are capable of and to let go of what may be holding you down.
I cannot wait for this little girl’s journey into Motherhood. The struggles & triumphs she will endure & the shoulder I will provide when she needs one to lean on. Here’s to Strong Women, May we know Them, May we be Them, May we raise Them!
Mummy tummy (yes women grow body hair too)
Someone recently said to me that I’d be able to get rid of my tummy pouch I just wasn’t working hard enough, if I exercised more, if I was stricter with what I ate I’d have a flat stomach again.
Although it didn’t upset or affect me or the way I feel about my body, I believe it needs to be addressed nonetheless.
My “tummy pooch” is a byproduct of three things- loose skin, an ab separation and adhesions causing my scar to be pulled inwards (creating a dip.) It has nothing to do with my overall weight.
LOTS of mothers wear permanent marks from pregnancy and child birth and it is a MISCONCEPTION that you can get rid of these marks through diet or exercise. You cannot starve your way to taut skin. Nor can you exercise away indented scars.(Yes you can work towards getting your stomach as flat as possible if that’s what you want, but these unrealistic expectations can be so harmful)
It’s ok to bare the marks of your pregnancy and birth proudly. The same as it’s ok to feel a little bit upset and like a stranger in your new body too, it’s human, and learning to accept and love yourself as you are is a process- it’s ok if you’re not quite there yet. It’s also ok to work towards personal body goals, working out and eating healthily to sculpt your body in a particular way doesn’t mean that you have to hate the body you’re in now. On the contrary. It’s all about doing what makes you feel happy and accomplished.
What is NEVER ok is someone telling you that you should work harder to attain an unachievable body image- so that you might fit THEIR expectations of what the female body should look like. That shit needs to be shut down immediately. If someone can’t accept your postpartum body, or encourages you to change any aspect of the way you look because they don’t feel comfortable with it- that is THEIR problem, THEIR issue that needs to be worked on. It ultimately stems from their own insecurities.
Never allow someone to make you feel bad about your body, never apologise for your body. Your body created life! If that’s not something to be proud of, to be in absolute awe of, then I don’t know what is!
See that belly? That faded linea nigra? See that new growth of hair and the permanent stretch marks? That posture? These are my remnants of her time inside the womb. These are reminders of the 40 weeks plus 3 days I carried her. Battle scars I earned from the 36 hour labor and birth we fought through together. This body is a testament of the countless days and nights I spend breastfeeding, rocking, carrying, soothing, playing, teaching and most importantly, LOVING her.
This body took its time to orchestrate the miraculous creation of the most special human I have ever known. This body took its time to choreograph the most incredible labor and birth, a synchronized dance that ended in a fireworks display of emotion I’ll never forget.
So, no, I’m not in a hurry to “bounce back.” I’m not in a rush to lose the “baby weight” or tighten that “loose skin.” This body continues to take its time to nurture this child, so I’m going to continue to take my time in nurturing this body.
I honestly went back and forth on whether to post this image. But it has become my favourite photo of myself. I have zero photos after Forresters cesarean. I went through a stage of guilt and hatred for my body. It took months to appreciate the little line that she emerged from, and once I did, I just felt regret for not documenting the moments surrounding it. When it was decided that Caoimhe needed to be born the same way, I knew I not only wanted her first moments, but I also wanted this moment captured. My moment of appreciation for my body’s ability to give her a safe entrance into the world. I did give birth.