When I was about 20 weeks pregnant with my first son (now 2) I started to get stretch marks. I was slathering on every lotion I could find. i was bummed because my mom didn’t get but like 2 with my sister and I, so I figured my chances were pretty good.
not so much. Once they started, i couldn’t stop them. When my husband and I had my mother in law take some belly pictures for us, she asked if we wanted to do any “naked belly” pictures, I said no, and my husband chimed in with “Oh she doesn’t have a normal pregnant belly, she has so many stretch marks!” I think we both wanted to choke him, but then realized it wasn’t his fault. I mean whenever you see a picture of a naked woman most of the time they have been airbrushed beyond belief and there are no stretch marks.
When I got closer to delivering my son, that’s when I finally got the courage to take pictures of my “naked belly” I remember standing in front of the mirror in total shock and just marveling at the fact that our son was in there and we would be meeting him anyday. Of course I didn’t like the stretch marks but what a trade! I’d take some unsightly skin for my awesome son anyday.
The stretch marks that were once a bright red had faded to a soft shimmery silver color and I usually forget about them. Sometimes though when I am lying in bed I can trace them with my fingers and it reminds me of how awesome this whole pregnancy thing is.
Now that I am pregnant (25 weeks) with baby number 2, the marks are starting to liven up again, but I still don’t mind. As many other women have said, i look at them as my own personal badge of honor and “war wounds” I’ll always have them as a reminder of how amazing the 9 months that only I got to spend with each of my children.
I may never wear a bikini again, but that pales in comparrison to the joy that my family brings me every day.