I don’t think I am the only only one who has heard, “Give yourself 9 months to bounce back.” So here I am, 9 months Postpartum, and I wouldn’t say I have bounced back yet. Sure, I have lost the weight gained plus some. Because, well, nursing twins kind of sucks the life right out of you! But, I am still saggy and flabby in the middle. I am tiger striped from my boobs to my knees, I kid you NOT! Here’s a secret that little people know about me.
I’ve spent far too long being upset over my body.
So goodbye “give yourself 9 months rule.” You don’t apply to me. My body will never recover from the extra weight I gained. Sure I’ve lost it, but there are stretch marks to prove that the weight still existed. I carried over 11 pounds of baby and two placentas (Which means double ALL the weird fluids). I had gained a total of 50 lbs. And measured OVER 40 weeks pregnant. No amount of time is going to erase that. It’s my story. Part of my history. Those stretch marks and elephant wrinkly skin. My annoying umbilical hernia and C-section scar. These are the tattoos I didn’t ask for and ones that can’t be removed.
Wow. That was a lot of complaining. I promise I am trying to not be upset and find the beauty in it. I see the value in those stretch marks and I count my blessings with a sigh.
I don’t want to be so vain.
I don’t want my daughters to remember me pinching at my extra fat and complaining in the mirror. I don’t want them to see that I value beauty above all things. Because I don’t. I don’t want them to hear the rude names I have called myself or see the tears that have been shed over useless crap, like stretch marks and flabby skin. To be honest, it’s embarrassing. I’ve had a lot of embarrassing moments being a mom, and being so self-centered, vain, and insecure is one of those.
My poor husband.
I can recall countless times when he tried to wrap his arms around my middle, and I flinched away. I ruined what could have been such a beautiful moment between husband and wife. My own husband admiring my role as a new mom, taking me into his arms, and I pushed him away because he was “touching my fat”. What a horrible thing to do. What a horrible thing I did to myself. It happened too many times to count. Enough times that I noticed my husband no longer grabbed me around my middle.
One night, while laying in bed, my husband was “trying to get me in the mood” lets say. He softly tickled my back, arms, and legs, because he knows I like it. I couldn’t help but notice the parts he skipped. I didn’t even have to ask why. I knew why. He didn’t dare touch my stomach because he knew I’d flinch away. So, I just started sobbing. Hysterically. Out of no where and scared the SHIT out of my husband. This moment, being one of the most embarrassing moments in my marriage of all time. I couldn’t be calmed down. I just wanted to cry, and cry, and shoulder sob about what I had done to myself. What I had done to my husband. And maybe cry a little more because I wasn’t quite feeling sexy, or in the mood, or even like my body at all! I’ll admit, I would have freaked out too if he had done that out of the blue. But men are a totally different story!
Since that moment it has gotten a little better. I won’t run past mirrors. I won’t say rude things about myself aloud. I DEFINITELY don’t flinch away from my husband when he grabs me around the middle.
I never wish that feeling of “ugliness” on anyone. If anything, I want more women to be open and honest of their body after baby. Self-confidence is such a private struggle. Always compliment one another, empower one another, and sometimes just listen to one another. (Like when they rant about their body after baby.) You never know what anyone else is going through. Or even what they may look like underneath! I want to thank all of you for the love and support you have shown me. I love that I have created a place that feels safe and real to share my journey.