This is a picture of my third pregnant belly at 7 months. By far, my biggest baby, my most demanding baby, and also my sweetest baby. My pregnancies were 21 and 22 months apart respectively. I’ve always been a slender and fit person (5′ 8″ tall and 130 lbs) and was lucky enough not to get stretch marks, but I did get a rather generous case of diastasis (separation of the abdominus recti muscles) that I have not been able to resolve despite a very athletic lifestyle. I have chronic abdominal pain and fatigue from holding in my belly, or “engaging the core” as we like to say in my fitness classes. Relaxing it is painful. I have a bulge that is always bigger than my frame and although my third child is 18 months and my bodyfat percentage is 18, I am constantly congratulated on how “cute” I look as a pregnant person. “How far along are you? Four? Five months?” My husband had a vascectomy 17 months ago. I breastfed all three of my children and my former 34B’s are now 36AA’s. And they seem to be located a bit lower than they were previously. But, they just don’t bother me in the same way that my belly does. Truthfully, I love my body. As long as I don’t bend over (abundant pleats), I think I look damn good. However, due to the necessity of a diagnostic laparoscopy (fluid collection of unknown origin in the pelvis) and appendectomy (abnormal positioning, possible inflammatory process), I am looking into having my diastasis repaired at the same time. I didn’t realize this meant a tummy tuck. I’m not sure how I feel about this. I have a constellation of moles on my belly that will be sorely missed. I like my slightly hooded out-ty navel. Quite frankly, its wierd to think about losing part of my body even though it is, at this point, redundant and annoying. I see the plastic surgeon next week for a consultation and for all I know, he may find it completely unnecessary. But, I’m secretly hoping he won’t.