Just a quick update.

Have you ever had one of THOSE weeks? Where you just can barely get by and minimum effort is more than you can do? No, me neither.

HA.

Here’s hoping this week is better. I mean. It starts with Leap Day, which sounds pretty optimistic to me. (And if you haven’t watched the Leap Day episode of 30 Rock, please go do that right now.)

Anyway. Quick rundown of what’s happening at SOAM lately.

1. GIVEAWAY! Click here to join our mailing list and enter to win a contest (a new newsletter goes out this week, so sign up now to get it!).

2. Participate! Join us here at SOAM and share your story by clicking this link. And you can join our weekly photo project, too! Learn more about that here.

3. Where can you find SOAM online these days? Follow us on Facebook, Tumblr, Instagram, Twitter, Pinterest, YouTube. (There are also links at the bottom of this page to all our pages online, for future reference.)

4. “What’s that?” You say, “You’re on YouTube now?” YES! We are! Subscribe here.

Here’s to a fantastic week, mamas!

Week 7: Strength

Today my son – my littlest baby, who is about to be eleven – got home from a school camp trip. It was a huge thing for him, because I think this type of thing always is, and because he has some mild special needs so this was a big dose of independence for him. It challenged him in a lot of ways – being away from home, climbing higher than ever before on the ropes course, having to manage his time and emotions largely on his own (within a wonderfully supportive environment, of course). He had a blast. But he came home with some concerns, too, and so we had a talk about bravery and how people think that being brave means that you don’t feel afraid, but in reality you cannot be brave if there isn’t anything to fear. I think that bravery and strength are very closely related. And you cannot have strength without having first felt weakness.

This week, I learned so much from the women who participated in the photo challenge so I’ll let them speak for themselves below. I hope you join us next week! It’s super easy to join in. Read more here.

“Being a parent tests your strength in so many literal and figurative ways. But to have a body capable of creating a human, feeding him, and caring for him… that’s amazing to me every day.” – @sumrtime328

“Over the past few years since I have started martial arts training I have learned that there is physical strength and mental strength. Physical strength is fine. We can easily observe it. Mental strength is so much more and often so much harder to see. Mental strength is the ability to endure, to pick yourself up when you fall, to make good judgements under pressure, to make the choices that are not easy but right.” – @this_girl_kicks

“In those four years I can’t pinpoint a specific moment that I started feeling small, weak, controlled, and eventually, entirely hopeless. It was a gradual erosion of all my best qualities, until I was a shadow of who I had been. The day that I ran, I was terrified. But I found out quickly that I had more strength inside of me than I had ever known.” – @irishgirl1379

“Some days strength looks a whole like like vulnerability and exhaustion.” – @laurenlolo7

(Anonymous)

Please tell me what I can read! I’ve had children I’ve got a mess of a stomach etc stretch marks loads of problems… 4 children were the ex husbands he told me after I had kids he missed my body from before I had children (I don’t know where to start), cheated on me. Divorced him. Was single for years . Met a guy thought he was nice almost two years ago now we have 1 son together now. And I found out he’s gone out where there’s skimpies, had porn and crap on Facebook, been liking porn on Instagram. I can’t breath! It matters to me I told him I’m not ok with it and he says it means nothing but it’s not ok, it makes me feel like I mean nothing and he didn’t love or want me.

I just feel like I could stop breathing and die I can’t take this…

What did I do I can’t do anything about my stretch marks

Mailing List Giveaway!

Welcome to the first contest of SOAM’s anniversary year!

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How to enter: Join the mailing list. That’s it. BOOM. Click that link there, or find a link in the menu bar at the top of this blog. Your information is completely private, I promise. Used only to keep you fully up to date with all the awesome stuff happening at SOAM this year and into the future.

Contest deadline: March 31
Prizes: Winners will be chosen at random and can choose from one of the prizes below.

Hand knit newborn Gryffindor diaper cover and hat set from By the Moonlight Creations. (Etsy) (Facebook)

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Custom made pendant with bead colors of your choosing to represent birth stones or whatever colors you like best.

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Are you a WAHM and have something to donate to this or other giveaways? Email me at theshapeofamother@gmail.com!

My New Body (Melissa C)

My son will be 10 weeks old in a couple days and I’m at a loss for words because I can’t believe it has flown by so fast. I feel like it was just yesterday he was born. It was my first pregnancy so I was eager to follow all the guidelines to being pregnant including eating healthier than I normally would, taking my vitamins every day and taking care of myself as best I could. The one thing I had no control over was the rapidly increasing amount of stretch marks that started to cover my body slowly taking it over. I was never really in love with my body to begin with. I’ve been self conscious about myself and my weight since I was in middle school. My weight always fluctuated throughout the years and it seems like I was always on a diet trying to lose weight. I loved being pregnant and being able to feel my baby move around inside me. Knowing that he was depending on me to grow him, care for him, and protect him made me feel important. But the way my body was changing and getting bigger made me hate myself even more. I hated the way my stomach was covered in stretch marks. I would never take a belly picture without a shirt on. I tried everything to prevent them- from Palmers cocoa butter, Palmers tummy butter, Palmers oil, organic coconut oil, and exfoliating consistently and nothing worked. And I never thought back then that it could get any worse, until now. The loose, saggy, wrinkly skin that hangs down from my stomach makes me feel so depressed. I know it was worth it because I get to be the mom to a beautiful little boy that loves me so much. At the same time though, I don’t feel happy with myself. I can’t imagine ever feeling beautiful again. I’m jealous of the girls that think they’re fat but take for granted their flawless skin. I would love to be that girl again. You can always lose weight if you you aren’t happy with your size, but you can never get rid of the deep marks scattered over your skin. If there was a clean unmarked area of skin on my body it is now tagged with the marks of having a child. They’re literally everywhere. I wouldn’t be caught dead in a bikini, or any bathing suit for that matter. I am just trying to accept the fact that this comes with having my son and there is nothing I can do about it now so why waste my energy focusing on it? I wish I could be truly happy with myself and finally love myself, stretch marks and all.

Age: 24
# of pregnancies: 1
Age of child: 10 weeks

Week 6: Love

Valentine’s Day isn’t my holiday. No real reason, it never really has been. That said, I’ve loved seeing all the love in the photos this week. Puppy love, the love of a new nursing mama, siblings, families, cuddle puddles – it’s all here this week. Thanks for joining in guys!

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This week’s theme is strength. What makes you feel strong?

I Love: Not Being Depressed

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For this week’s #soamweeklyphoto theme of #love my first thought, naturally, was of my children. But I wasn’t sure how to encompass all of that emotion and experience of these two small people who have so utterly changed me and capture it all in one meaningful photo.

I considered a screencap of me face-timing with my boy while I was on a break from my Spanish class, to say that I loved being able to make this awkward situation work for us thanks to technology. But I realized that what I was really trying to say is that I loved my life. I love how I’ve built it up from various piles of rubble over the years.

And I realized: that’s a new thing for me.

I struggle with depression. A childhood of abuse means that I probably always will. Five years ago I made the biggest decision of my life and the universe responded with an emphatic “LEVEL UP!”. By which I mean that I grew, made a choice, and then life got more difficult. I guess at a time like that one is supposed to rise to the occasion but if I am being honest, I chose to greet it with much grumbling and self-pity. And that’s okay. I had a lot of grief to deal with. Self-pity is necessary sometimes. But life has been unceasingly difficult since then and I am just so so tired and done.

Last semester wasn’t the darkest period of these five years for me, but it was close. My depression and anxiety were roaring, there was a lot of loss in my life, and an unusually busy school schedule with what approximated to 17 units (that was dumb). All I could do to get through it all was to put one foot in front of the other and expect nothing more from myself.

I can’t tell you what changed. A chance to recuperate over winter break surely helped. But something small cracked in my jaded armor I built during the turmoil of these last years and I was able to think positively.

For the first time in a long time, I decided to put my intentions into art. Sometimes I make vision boards at the new year. Usually collages arranged in a way that pleases me and means something to my intentions. This year I took an old, irrelevant one, and painted over it (the funky square bit is where something had been glued down). I wanted to allow it to speak for me so I simply chose two colors – shining gold, rising out of the darkness – and I allowed myself to let it decide what to be. It became a sun, a star, spinning amongst multi-colored stars out in the universe. I let it sit for awhile and eventually it became clear that it didn’t even want to become a collage. The idea was simple: my vision is to allow lightness back in.

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I feel great and have for a record-breaking month and a half now (KNOCK WOOD. OKAY, UNIVERSE, YOU HEAR THAT? I AM KNOCKING WOOD). I am able to accomplish all my tasks during the day, phone calls and errands aren’t paralyzing, even my social anxiety is lessening and I can talk in classes again. I am constantly terrified that this will come to an end as mysteriously as it arrived, but I am reminding myself of my intention for this year: allow the light in. I remind myself that everything comes and goes. If another darkness descends, it will also dissipate.

The thing about clinical depression is that the words don’t always work. Sometimes I tell myself these things and I cannot hear them. Like auto-correct for my brain. But for now I am am loving my mental clarity, my children, and I love the life I have built for us.

Week 5: Silhouette

A silhouette is our shadow, but with substance, with ourselves not removed. We can look at our outlines only, at those parts of ourselves which touch the reality that surrounds us. To photograph our silhouette is to focus on the lightness beyond which highlights our own darkness. This might sound like a big downer, but it’s really not. We have no lightness within us without our own darknesses. We must face our own darknesses to allow our lightness to shine on who we really are. And, often the darkness within us isn’t evil or bad, but simply quiet and sleepy. A silhouette allows us to focus on our lightness perhaps ironically while highlighting our darkness.

I loved the photos this week.

When I began thinking of my own, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. I considered an old shot of me against the Winter Solstice sunrise, but I wanted to put intention into this week’s theme so I decided to purposely take a new one. And since I weigh rather more than I did when I took my favorite silhouette self-portraits, I decided I would make my new, larger body the subject of this piece of art I wanted to make.

Putting intention into art is like a prayer, or like magic. So I created a whole process for this piece so that I could really focus on this magic of making me into art. I set up a tripod, I created the lighting, I took the photos, and then I edited them together into one. Both of those are me. Where I started with intention, the art took over and completed the message: Me, dancing slightly out of sync with myself, but still in harmony. I tried to put this into words when I originally shared it on Instagram, but I had none at the time and decided to allow the photo to speak for me.

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All selfies are art. Anything that you put out into the world, where you share your you-ness, is art. Snapping a quick pic in the carpool line at the elementary school is art. Snapping a makeup-free bedhead is art. All art is magic. But sometimes you need to take the moment to put a little more intention into your art. Make the magic a little stronger.

Thanks for participating, guys! This week’s theme is love.

Unplanned C-Section (Greenbean)

I went into the hospital at 7:30 am to be induced. After several hours of my baby’s heart rate being consistently low and frequently dipping further it was clear she was not coping well with labor and with my cervix refusing to dilate past 2cm despite doing all we could we knew that a vaginal birth would not be possible and I went in to have a c section a little after 2 am. Although some people see it as such, a cesarean is not “the easy way out”, it does not make me any less of a mother nor does it make my daughters birth any less valid. This was not something I wanted or expected. It was very scary and upsetting, it was painful, and the recovery has been slow and difficult, but the umbilical cord was wrapped around her throat three times so it needed to happen so my baby could be born safe and healthy and I would do it again in a heartbeat for her. She is perfect, the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and this scar is a reminder that we did what was necessary for her sake and I am incredibly proud of that.

21 years old
2 weeks postpartum
1st baby

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