postpartum

Postpartum Body Image

Juli

Body image is such a journey.  Postpartum is such a journey.

It’s exhausting.

postpartum body image

I feel like I was given a serious lucky break when it comes to my postpartum body, in that I morphed gradually.  After my first baby, I snapped back to my pre-pregnancy weight almost immediately, had very few stretch marks, and felt very much like myself.
After the second, there was some unusual thickness around the middle and a little different hair texture (my curls fell into moreso waves) but overall, still alright.

But this third baby… oh, daughter, what you hath wrought.

I’m the heaviest I’ve ever been.
There is some kind of lower-abdomen situation that cannot be disguised even by Spanx.
My skin seems to have taken a serious turn – vicious acne during and after pregnancy, texture problems, some sort of extreme dryness? and total lack of vitality or elasticity.
My hair fell out in clumps and has grown back in so much straighter.  (I self-identify with my big, curly hair – this is a blow.)
Essentially, I look and feel like a mom of four and am fighting tooth and nail not to “let myself go.”

It’s not that I don’t care how I look anymore.  It’s not that I’m no longer interesting in style.  It’s not even that I’m too tired and pressed for time to look presentable.
It’s that everything I knew about my physical self is different.  I spent decades of my life, as most women do, getting to know my body, my skin, my hair – its limitations, its beauty, the way to get it to look and feel its best.  And all the sudden I’m starting all over.

I’m too old for this.

I should not be hitting another awkward middle school stage in my 30s.

I knew how to dress myself to my best advantage, how to style my hair, how to take care of my face as best I could.  And I’ve gone back in time to a bathroom full of failed products, scraping my hair up in a ponytail because it “won’t behave,” throwing on baggy clothing and hoping for the best.

I know, deep down, that it doesn’t matter what I look like.  That nothing about my value as a person or a mother has anything to do with my physical appearance.  But it matters to ME.
Sometimes I think we (mothers? society? I don’t know who the “we” is) forget that something gets to matter JUST FOR THE MOTHER.
I’m preoccupied with trying to accept myself, AGAIN, when I thought I’d already gotten those issues out of the way in my early 20s. I don’t want to go back to my whole life before kids, I’d just like to feel in my skin the way I used to.  Comfortable.  Sassy.  Take-me-or-leave-me.  A little quirky and a little effortless and a little classy.

I don’t know where that woman is hiding, behind these eye bags and droopy flannels and stringy hair.  I really want to find her.  I forget sometimes that there are a good many people in my life who’ve NEVER MET HER.  Who didn’t know me before children.  I feel like they’re missing out.  I’m missing out.  My husband/ life partner/ best friend is missing out.  I’m missing out.

Let me tuck my mom stomach into  my high-waist-control-top leggings and do some yoga.  Maybe there I’ll find a little bit of her.

The Simple Joys of Postpartum Life

Juli

No sugarcoating: postpartum (the “fourth trimester,” if you will) Is no walk in the park.  It’s a messy, uncomfortable, sleepless stage of life.

But man, there are some really sweet things, too.

simple joy of postpartum

  1. Finally getting to look that baby in the face!  The sweet, squishy, cross-eyed face.
  2. STOMACH SLEEPING.  I didn’t even realize how often I end up on my stomach before morning, and how insanely comfortable it is.
  3. New topics of conversation.  Maybe this doesn’t apply to everybody, but as a hardcore introvert I find small talk to be quite difficult.  Toting a new little baby around creates its own conversation.
  4. No one notices how you look.  Related to #3, everybody is looking at that adorable baby, and no one is looking at your (crazy unwashed) hair or your (rumpled goobered) clothes.
  5. Napping justification.  It’s hard even for the most entrenched mom guilt to judge you for catching some snooze time when baby does (it’s even decreed by doctors!)
  6. Slowing down and letting go.  My midwife seriously told me not to lift a finger for two weeks.  So I didn’t.  It was marvelous!  Turns out the world keeps spinning even if I don’t do my own laundry, dishes, cooking, or cleaning.
  7. An appreciation for “normal.”  It’s lovely after 9 months of upheaval to find a new “normal” routine, without myriad appointments or making tentative plans for the month you’re due.  It’s actually enjoyable to bend over and pick up things off the floor, get out of bed, shave your legs, cut your own toenails, etc after months of these tasks being serious hard work.  Gives you a renewed sense of gratitude for your body in it’s “normal” state.

I’m sure there are many, many more postpartum joys that I haven’t included in this list.  Leave a comment if you’ve got more positivity about postpartum to share!