I’ve started running this week. It has me thinking a lot about post-partum body image. My body has changed so much in the last year. In fact, it has been almost exactly a year since this wild journey started.
If you’ve ever been pregnant or know someone who has been pregnant, then you know that the human body changes a lot over the course of growing a baby. I won’t get into the nitty gritty, because, well, you can look that up online. Or go ask your mom (I’m so funny).
I definitely got BIG while I was pregnant. Yes, all capital letters BIG. I think my family tends to just carry their babies largely, based on my sample size of two other women who share my DNA. And I moved back to the United States from my fast food and ice cream-free desert home when I was six months pregnant. It’s technically a literal desert. But also, a “delicious things that are tempting to eat in huge quantities” desert. I have no idea how much this transition contributed to my weight gain, but I’m confident that it did.
I don’t think it helped that our baby was two weeks overdue, or that she was in the 98th percentile for length by the time she was born. In fact, when the ultrasound tech measured me at 41 weeks, she said: “There’s just a lot of baby in there.” I’m pretty sure that was the technical medical term.
I had a lot of interactions with people who couldn’t believe that I still had weeks until I was due, or that I was carrying a singleton. My favorite time was when a woman at the dollar store asked me if I was having twins, and when I told her I wasn’t, she responded, “Are you sure?”
Pro tip: don’t ask pregnant women if they are carrying twins. If they are, I’m sure they will happily volunteer that information (I’ve never been pregnant with twins, but I’m guessing it’s the sort of detail that doesn’t just slip your mind). But also, if someone tells you they aren’t, you should probably just believe them and let it go.
I am also genetically blessed when it comes to stretch marks, if by “blessed” you mean that I have an awful lot of them (I’m so, so funny). My pre-pregnancy opinion on this topic hasn’t really changed – I never bared my midriff very much anyways, so it’s not like I’m counting down to my next swimsuit shoot.
That brings me to the deep, philosophical point that’s been floating around in my head. There’s almost always one to be found, if you gaze at your navel long enough (and my navel is definitely ground zero for the whole transformation I’ve been discussing).
Really though, while my stretch marks still have a lot of fading to do, I know I will never have my pre-pregnancy body “back.” I’m okay with that. I’m actually kind of thankful for it. My body has done an amazing thing this year, and it sits well with me that my body has been irreversibly changed by this experience. My stretch marks will stay with me, a testimony to the fact that I carried my daughter inside of me through crazy pandemic months and a sudden move, nurturing her and protecting her until she was ready to face the world.
When I was done with my run today I decided to take a selfie. I was inspired by a previous post-run selfie on my feed that reminds me of other tough seasons I’ve pushed through. As I held the camera up I couldn’t help but notice how much rounder my shoulders are, the creases folding deep because of my increased body fat.
As I posted the picture, I realized I want to be in lots of pictures during this season. I don’t want to hide from cameras or try to erase this period from memory. I want it documented. I want to remember this phase with a bigger, softer body. I want to remember what it felt like to hold my little baby close with this body, I want to remember the great effort of keeping her alive with this body, in womb and out.
I don’t have a before and after picture to post, but I’m proud of this body. I have worked hard to provide it with what it needed, and in turn have provided my daughter with what she needs. I do plan for this to be a temporary season, because there are a lot of things that are more comfortable to do when I weigh less, and I would like to have access to my full wardrobe again. But I want to savor the journey and not rush it. I want to enjoy and embrace this season, even when I’m tempted to compare myself to how I used to look or what I used to be capable of. Good times are ahead, and there have been a lot before, but right now is a good time too.