A Mom’s Body
I saw this post on Facebook this morning that said:
“The fight to feel pretty after having a baby is so freaking hard.”
This is why I started First Avenue Company.
This is why I get up and do what I do.
This is why I spend my savings on reinvesting.
This is why all profits are put back into the store.
This is why I love my customers so much.
I remember having Thomas and thinking that this would never get better. I’d never have my body back. My mind, even.
I was miserable. I cried. My hormones were obviously nuts, but I felt these emotions - rightfully so.
I saw how I looked in the mirror. Every dimple, curve, stretch mark, scar, loose skin, fat, roll, and hair that I couldn’t reach or find.
Positivity was out the window at this point. I tried to give myself affirmations:
“This too will pass.
My body housed and grew a whole human.
My body is a miracle.
Women are amazing.”
I tried. Hard. To say these things was one thing, but believing was completely different. I just couldn’t imagine a world where I loved my body again.
Months passed, I tried diets, working out, more self love, and so much more. Nothing helped. Maybe temporarily, but certainly not for a period longer than 2-3 days.
I really thought I would be unhappy forever. In that, I was making everyone else miserable too. I was mad. Angry, even.
My husband didn’t have to do anything. Hell, in my eyes, he didn’t do anything at all anyway. I didn’t see the small things (or even large tasks) that he did because I was so consumed with myself and my unhappiness.
But really though, he had no sacrifice he had to make. He had no stretch marks, saggy or sore tits, or overlapping stomach from a miserable emergency c-section.
No suitcase bags under his eyes from waking up at all hours. No major loss of sleep. No hormones going up and down faster than a see-saw.
No loss of self.
He had it easy.
You give so much to your child that sometimes you forget about your body.
That is, until you go take a shower and see yourself naked getting out of the shower. Wrapping the towel around in pure disgust.
Then, the thoughts dragging in again about how your husband must not want to touch you because of the way you look. And even when he does, you think it’s because of sympathy and just the fact that he’s a good man - so he doesn’t seek out someone else.
I’m sure every mom reading this can relate in some way.
But at what point do we love ourselves again? Do we gain ourselves back? Do we become who we are or rather, were, before having a child?
Some days I see myself slowly reappearing.
But.....into an even better me. This time, I’m a mom.
I did what many cannot.
I was blessed.
I am blessed.
I will be blessed by God.
My child is amazing.
My husband loves me.
One day it will not be like this.
One day, I will look back. I will see the woman I was and the woman I became.
I will see my strength. I will see my attitude. My sass.
My body may have wrinkles. More curves, stretch, rolls, and dimples.
But I will have grown into a completely new person. One not obsessed with her body, but obsessed with her confidence. Her self. Her inside. The love she gives. How she can help.
And I will see a human that grew inside of me and outside, too.
And all will be right in the world when I see him exhibit those qualities of love and acceptance.
And when I hear him say, “Mama, I Love You,” I will want to do it all over again.