I had my first child at 19. I was trim, fit, but curvy. I weighed all of 135lbs when I got pregnant with my first child, and am 5’5″. My breasts were a perky 36B/C, and I didn’t even require a bra. My belly was never flat, regardless of working out and being in shape. I had that wonderfully feminine pooch. I hated my body. I thought I was fat, my breasts too small. I was miserable and unhappy with the way I looked. After my first, it took me well over a year to lose the weight. Even though I was back down to 135lbs, I was still a full pants size bigger. I chalked it up to my hips spreading and got over it. I still felt huge though. After my second child at 21, my bod never went back, and I continued to weigh about what I did when I gave birth to my first. The upswing, I finally had breasts!! Now I had to wear a bra all the time. Clearly this was not quite what I’d had in mind, not quite the blessing I thought it would be. It was four and half years later before i had my third. I didn’t gain much with him, which was good because I was already uncomfortably larger than I ever wanted to be. My breasts were GIGANTIC when I was nursing him. They never went away when I weened him. My fourth and final baby was born 17mos after my third. He was a bit of a surprise. I had had c-sections with all three other children. With my fourth, the doctor had to a classic vertical incision because I had so much scar tissue under and around my bikini cut of my previous three. I looked like the Bride of Frankenstein. It was/is beautiful. Thick keloidic scaring not only from my belly button to pubic bone, but also from hip to hip. Luckily I was able to make it go down some with vitamin E. I was distressed with the newest scar because any illusion that I would some day lose the weight and be able to wear a bikini again, was finally gone. I would never be that hot young woman that I never realized I was until it was gone. My belly sags down and hangs over, my breasts are large and full and heavy, I have stretch marks in odd places, my hips are fatty, my rear is now misshapen. But that’s ok, because my sons tell me I’m beautiful every day. And my oldest daughter, now nearly 12, was picked on at school. Not having much to tease her about as she’s smart, beautiful, and genuinely nice, a boy decided to tease her by telling her her mom was fat. She came home distressed about this and when I told I didn’t care what an 11 yr old boy thought of me she said “Well, I mean, it’s not like you’re going to have the body of a super-model, you’ve had four kids!!” My work is done, I’ve taught her well.