~Number of Pregnancies and Births: 1
~Age of Child/Postpartum: Almost 6 months
I tried to make this short, but failed miserably. I saw this website when looking for something to help with my stretch marks. I think this site is absolutely wonderful and I am very excited to post.
If you’re a mom reading this, I just want to say congratulations on being a mom and congratulations on your “mom” body. Even though it may not be your ideal body, it was your baby’s ideal body and without that body you wouldn’t have them. Whose lives are completely ideal anyways? Certainly not mine.
How It Happened:
I met a guy my junior/senior year (I graduated a year early, so my junior and senior year were combined). I was a butch lesbian at the time and just broke up with a serious girlfriend for reasons I won’t get into. I really liked him and we became good friends. I was attracted to him so our friendship became friends-with-benefits. We did lots of drugs together and hung out every day. Both of us had just gotten out of serious relationships, though, and neither of us wanted to get into anything serious any time soon. Him and I became extremely unhealthy because of our drug use and decided we needed to stop.
In the beginning of March, my period was only a couple days late and I concluded it was from my recent drug use, but decided to go get a pregnancy test just to make sure. My friend and I didn’t use protection because I just assumed it wouldn’t happen to me and that teen pregnancy wasn’t as common as everyone says. I wanted a family eventually, but I wanted to live a party lifestyle for a while before I settled down. We saw the results together and both broke down crying. I took 3 more tests just to be sure. They were all positive. I knew I couldn’t bring myself to have an abortion or go through an adoption. I don’t have anything against women who do either of those options; I’ve just always known I wouldn’t be able to when the choice needed to be made. To me it wasn’t a choice. I couldn’t bear to think about killing my own child or being separated from them after spending 9 long months of pregnancy and going through a birth with them. Colton, my friend-with-benefits, then decided we needed to be dating and that he was going to stick by my side. At first I didn’t want him to date me just because he got me pregnant; I wanted him to date me because he wanted to date me, but I knew that I was luckier than some girls and accepted the offer.
My Teenage Girl’s Body:
I was never happy with that body, which now I wish I could have back. I had symmetrical, perky, small C-sized breasts. My butt could have used some work, but it was definitely “cute”. My stomach wasn’t completely flat, but it was in better condition that many other girls. I had a beautiful navel piercing that I absolutely loved. My legs weren’t half-bad. I used to be a dancer before I got more into drugs and all the strengthening ballet, jazz, tap, etc. gave me was something I took for granite. I stood at 5’ 2 ½” and weighed 110 pounds at the most. I had 2 tattoos; a playboy on my butt cheek and three iris flowers on my ribs. The iris tattoo was a cover up because I had gotten an unprofessional tattoo that I regretted for an ex-girlfriend. My skin had many flaws, though. I used to cut myself because of unmanaged anxiety, which left me with terrible scars all over my right arm, stomach, and thighs. When I was a cutter, I had to hide my body because I felt like it was nobody’s business and I was embarrassed. Eventually, though, I stopped caring. Some people would stare and those who weren’t familiar with cutters would ask what happened to me. I’d always tell them the truth; that I used to have some problems. I was no longer ashamed of those imperfections, although sometimes I’d imagine how much more wonderful my body would be if only I hadn’t destroyed it. They don’t bother me anymore, but I love when I can tell they’ve faded more and more over the years.
I had a completely uncomplicated pregnancy, except for the fact that I had anemia, but I suffered from that before my pregnancy as well. I gained around 37 pounds. I rubbed cocoa butter all over my body at least 3 times a day every day for the entire duration of my pregnancy. I was extremely worried about stretch marks. By the end, I noticed one, maybe two stretch marks and I was so happy. I constantly checked and was fine with having just one or two.
The birth was uncomplicated, although at one point the doctors thought I needed a C-section because I wasn’t progressing as fast as they’d like and they thought my baby’s head may be too large to fit through. I had a vaginal birth with an epidural at age 17 after 23 long hours in labor. I was very afraid of tearing or needing an episiotomy, but neither happened. Holding my daughter was the most amazing moment of my life. My boyfriend and I cried tears of joy at this wonderful little blessing we brought into the world.
My New Life:
I had already stopped doing drugs by the time I’d found out I was pregnant, but it changed my whole perspective. Why would I even consider getting high if it could harm my baby? Well, I wouldn’t and didn’t. I went from being a don’t-give-a-shit, teenage, druggie, lesbian to an expecting mother with a guy by her side. Literally, my whole life was turned upside down. A baby was the very last thing I was expecting. Suddenly all of my goals changed. My whole outlook on life changed. Just everything changed. I have my own little family now, and even though things aren’t perfect, my boyfriend and daughter are both amazing. I am a mother now. It is my new identity. No longer am I a butch or a party girl, but a mom.
I had a gorgeous 7 lb 8 oz, baby girl named Daisy the day after my due date. She is the love of my life. I never realized how much I could love someone. She is more important to me than anything in this world and I wouldn’t change a single thing about her. Throughout my entire pregnancy I worried that something would be wrong with her because of all the drugs my boyfriend and I did before (and possibly right after) I became pregnant, but she is completely healthy and I am so dumbfounded by how amazing she is. I’m so proud of all the things she can do and is continuing to learn to do. Having a child is by far the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I know she’s here for a reason. I was heading down the wrong path and she has put me on the right track and added so much more joy to my life than I could have ever imagined.
My New Woman’s Body:
Before I was just a girl, but now my body has endured the true pains of womanhood and I feel like a woman now. After I gave birth the weight melted off. By the time I was 3-4 weeks postpartum I weighed in at 115 lbs, which I am still at and can’t seem to lose those 5 more pounds. I was glad I had lost almost all my pregnancy weight in just a couple weeks and so ecstatic that I hardly got stretch marks throughout my entire pregnancy, but no one told me that you can also get stretch marks from losing a lot of weight quickly. I soon noticed lots of little stretch marks all over my stomach and butt/hips. I am crier and I cried about it for a good while. I used more cocoa butter and bio oil, but neither showed noticeable improvement. I am now using Mederma Stretch Mark Therapy; in hopes that it will help them fade (I’ll let you know how it works). Since I’ve already dealt with scars for years, I know that it takes time for things like that to fade and that there isn’t just a magic cream that will make them disappear. My woman’s body has less muscle all over and a lot more chub in the midsection. My once sexy navel piercing is now droopy and old-looking. My thighs and calves have cellulite and no longer have the dancer-look they once did. And my breasts; oh, how I miss those perky, teenager breasts. My breasts now aren’t as perky or symmetrical. They are smaller than they were in middle school. I loved wearing low-cut shirts back in pre-pregnancy years, but now I feel so flat-chested it’s as if they don’t even exist.
Now, I could complain about my new body all day, but I simply don’t want to. It’s a complete waste of energy. My body is wonderful. I am so proud of my body for creating, carrying, and giving birth to my beautiful daughter. I know that many mothers have it way worse than I do and I should be grateful that my “mom” body isn’t so bad. I’m worried about summer coming up and having to wear a bathing suit. I think I still have the nerve to show off my body, but it definitely makes me uneasy. I have doubts about myself and I am very self-conscious after giving birth, but I should stop waiting for my old body to come back because I know that body is long gone. And you know what? I’m okay with that. I love my body for what it did and what it does every day, not how it looks. What’s so great, though, is that I can love how it looks, too. I also know that you will see improvement in your body, but only if you work at it and take care of it.
I just want to say to all the mothers out there that I never knew how under appreciated we are until I became one. Mothers are amazing people and I honestly don’t think the world would work without us.
And to all other teenage mothers- I know it sucks to see that none of your friends have mother’s bodies and their bodies seem so perfect and not ruined, but you have something that they don’t even know they’re missing: the joy of being a mother. They can’t even begin to understand how much love you have in your life, at least I didn’t before I became a mother. Those bangin’ little teenage bodies shrivel in comparison to the complete happiness my daughter gives me every single day.
1. 4 months pregnant; prom night
2. 6 1/2 months pregnant on vacation for my 17th birthday
3. 39 weeks pregnant
4. Pushing at the hospital
5. My baby, Daisy, at the hospital
6. Me and my little girl
8-10. Almost 6 months postpartum
11. My little Daisy at 5 1/2 months