Hey Mama: We Don’t Have to Bounce Back After Our Babies

We’ve all seen the women who seem to magically look like exactly as they did pre-baby just weeks after giving birth. Our Instagram feeds are bombarded with “inspirational” posts on how to get our bodies back (well, mine was, at least . . . until I edited it.). And we are told that we should be able to get our bodies back in months. But, guess what? We don’t have to bounce back after our babies are born.

We shouldn’t and often can’t.

And why would we want to?

The birth of our babies coincides with the birth of us as mothers. And as mothers, we look a little different than we did as women. Of course. Because we are different. Undeniably, irreversibly different, inside and out. And, what we look like as mothers shows the work, the labor, the pain, and the limitless joy that our beautiful babies bring.

We need to embrace that change, even if it doesn’t look like an Instagram-worthy, beach-ready body (or the body we had before our babies). We need to learn to love it (or at least appreciate it), for all that it has given us and our families. We need to let go and focus on self-care rather than trying to bounce back after our babies.

—

After my first baby, I lost all of the weight almost immediately. I had a tough pregnancy, and didn’t gain much to begin with, so it all but fell off. After I lost the weight, I was surprised to see that, even though it was gone, my body was unrecognizable for many months. It didn’t feel like “my body” again until I got pregnant again. Somehow my pregnant body felt more “me” than my post-baby body did.

I was larger in some places and smaller in others. I was squishier and puffier (so much puffier!), and also saggier and longer. My belly never stopped looking just a bit pregnant. You’ve had kids, you likely know exactly what I mean. My clothes fit differently. Favorite shirts were no longer flattering. Jeans were uncomfortably tight in the waist and loose in the butt and thighs (never, ever did I have that before).

I wanted that pre-baby body back so bad. If for no other reason than to recognize one aspect of myself that seemed lost in my post-baby life. I missed that body. I missed how it looked and how it felt. I missed some of the things that it could do (especially in the early days after my C-section). I mostly missed my waist. And, because I had lost the weight, but still didn’t recognize my body, I felt adrift.

Why was this body so different when the number on the scale is the same?

This second time around, I gained more weight, and still haven’t lost it. My baby is turning the corner into toddler-hood. And, I am almost as heavy as I’ve ever been. My jeans are still too tight in the waist (although, I’ve bought new ones to accommodate). I have only gotten saggier.

I no longer have the excuse of being pregnant or even newly postpartum.

This has been a struggle for me.

A few months ago, I felt that my new little one was excuse enough for the sag. That if I showed up carrying an infant, people would understand why I was a little saggy (not to mention the bags under my eyes). When I had my little one with me, I didn’t risk having someone ask me when I was due. It was clear, this was a post-baby bump, not an about-to-have-a-baby bump.

When I didn’t have him with me, I just felt chubby. And incredibly self-conscious. Like people were judging me for the thickness of my waist (yes, I know. They are not. They aren’t even looking at me! But…well, we are all in our own heads!). And, yes, I did get asked when I was due. It was mortifying and felt devastating at the time. I usually answered “three months ago.” It was a tiny bit satisfying!

I needed to come to terms with this new body. And I needed to do it now.

“You Will Have a Baby Body Until You No Longer Have a Baby”

I heard this a few years ago. And it was the greatest gift. My first little guy was probably about a year. I was still struggling with the squishy belly and asymmetrical boobs. And someone told me “you are going to have your baby body until you no longer have a baby.” What a beautiful thing to hear. 

And a relief. I still had a baby. And I would still have a baby for the foreseeable future, so I would have a baby body for that same foreseeable future.

By the time I got pregnant again, I knew that my body was likely going to be “not mine” indefinitely. I knew that I was going to have to get used to it, feel comfortable in it. I wasn’t ready to love it, but I knew I needed to at the very least, appreciate it.

I have made peace with my new body.

In fact, I am proud of it.

While I may not love this new body, I have certainly made peace with it. I am grateful for all that it has done for us and continues to do. I have made peace with my new body.

My baby loves to raspberry my belly. He face plants his little head and then blows, bounces back up and laughs. His brother loves to watch him do this. He also does what I call a “boob bob.” Neither of these would be possible without the added cushion that this new body offers.

More importantly, neither of those two little loves would be possible without this squishier, rounder body with significantly asymmetrical boobs.

We change emotionally, mentally, spiritually forever. Why wouldn’t we change physically, too.

Our bodies created life, and then sustained it. We were their homes, their source of nutrition and comfort, their everything for 40 weeks. We continue to be all of or some of this, less directly, for years.

We change in every way when we become mothers. In some ways, for the better. Other ways don’t feel as positive. But there we are different people than we were before our children. Of course there are some parts of us that are still the pre-baby us (as there are parts of our bodies that still look like they did pre-baby). But we are significantly different. And as we’ve changed, so must our bodies.

We are more powerful. We are stronger versions of our previous self.

Why would we want to go back?

Pregnancy and motherhood strengthen most of us. We become capable of more love, more nurturing, and certainly more cleanup than ever before. We are at once exhausted by the expectations of it all and exhilarated by it. We are powered by love, overwhelmed by it, and fearful of it. We have become more powerful versions of our former selves.

And because of this, we cannot go back. And neither can our bodies.

Image

I will admit, I think about my pre-baby body a lot. I think about my weight a lot. I want to throw away the scale, but I just haven’t been able to bring myself to do it. It often confirms something I already know based on the fit of my clothes and the way my body feels.

A few weeks ago, I weighed myself. And to my amazement and momentary bliss, I was down to my “goal” weight. The day before, I was 14 pounds away. Obviously, the scale was broken, but for one brief moment, I was thrilled. Had anything changed? Did my jeans fit any better? Was my belly any firmer? No, of course not. But the number, that glorious number was where I wanted it to be. A second passed and I realized something was off. I weighed myself again, and there it was, the correct number. I should have thrown it away right before the second weigh in.

I spent the rest of the day thinking about why I was holding so tightly on to this number. What did it represent? How would I feel if I ever got down to that weight again? Would it give me back a part of me that I felt that I’d lost when I became a mother? Did I want that?

I am still not sure about any of that. I do know that that number is just that. A number that says nothing about how I feel or even how I look. I could get down to that number, as I had a few weeks after my first baby was born, and still not fit into the dresses and jeans I wore before my first pregnancy. I could get down to that number and not feel strong enough to carry both boys after a long day at school. I could get down to that number and my left boob will likely still be a fair bit bigger while my right one sags sadly (actually, this would probably be even worse).

And, I realized, no number will give me the things that I lost when becoming a mother. No return to that pre-baby body will do that either. There are parts of me that will never be me again. And, that is ok. Because with this post-baby body comes a whole new me that is capable of more, loves more, and is more powerful than she was before.

So, I am going to keep this post-baby body. I am not going to bounce back after this baby, and that is ok.

My Post-Baby Body Is Me

I am working on not calling it my “post-baby body.” This is just my body. Yes, I liked the way my pre-baby body looked better. But, I love what this body has done for me. I love what this body has given me, how hard it worked to do so, how hard it continues to work for this family. This body is mine, it is me. It is the body that gave me all that makes me me now. And I am learning to love it. All of it, even the saggy, asymmetrical, squishy parts, even if I do wish they’d firm up, just a bit.

There is no getting my pre-baby body back. And, why would I want that body? That isn’t the body that gave me all of this. So, I am working on loving this body as she is.

Note on images in this post: These are by incredibly talented, very passionate Ash Luna from The 4th Trimester Bodies Project. Take a look at her work and story. Then comment, participate, donate and get ready to get a little teary-eyed.