I’m Not A Mommy Wasteland
My stretch marks are marks of courage and strength. My hollow, flabby stomach is the deserted home of my greatest accomplishment. My now-larger thighs and rock-hard, wider calves are the carriers of a happily burdened superhero.
I swore to myself that I wouldn’t look at my stomach and my thighs with anything but pride, and I did really well with this creed for many moons, allowing myself time to adjust without pressure. Well, here I am today, staring at my extra bits here and flabby bits there. I can feel the pressure building to get back to before.
Where does this pressure come from? Why does it drop in? Media? Friends? Family? Doctors? I frequently hear how great I look post-baby. I’ve been to the doctor a handful of times since having BabyJ, my most recent weighing at the doctor being a couple weeks ago. She said it all looks good, too.
So, is it all on me?
I’m working back to that place where I can look at my tummy, hips, and thighs and be fine with them. My extra bits are beautiful. They’re the remnants of my courage and nature. I did something incredible. I brought a baby into this world. My body is proof of that.
Time to stop looking at my body and shaming myself, and start seeing the awe of what I did.
Share your body/mind stories in the comments below. Let’s create a support system for each other instead of perpetuating the negativity.