Mom of Two Boys and Four Angels (MommaPitbull)

In 2008, at 20 years old, I gave birth to my oldest, Eddie, and I became a mom via emergency c-section. After 38 hours of labor my firstborn got stuck while I was pushing, we were rushed into emergency surgery and he made his entrance five days after his due date at 4:03 am, 7 pounds, 14 ounces, 21 inches long. After having jaundice and a brief stay in the NICU, we got home and began our new life as a tiny family. Two years later I met the man who would become my husband, and our little family grew.

When we’d been together two years, we got two pink lines after a year of TTC and a diagnosis of PCOS, our first pregnancy! We were thrilled! But 8 weeks along we lost our precious miracle, the first of three miscarriages. Then our little girl, Lilly, was stillborn at 22 weeks gestation in August 2013. I almost gave up on the hope of other children all together.

Finally in September 2014 we got two pink lines again. I had a good feeling about this time, I even started having dreams about a baby boy. In December we learned my dreams were right, it was a boy we would be welcoming to our family! We chose the name Alexander, and waited impatiently for the weeks to pass til I was passed that magical 24 week viability – the point at which our son would hopefully be safe even if he arrived early.

The fates smiled on us and Alex arrived full term and healthy! 7 pounds, 2 ounces, 21 inches long, via repeat planned cesarean at 10:15 am on a beautiful May morning. His big brother came right to the hospital that afternoon and held his baby brother, declaring it the best day of his life! The four of us could not have been more in love.

Today Eddie is seven and a half, Alex is seven months old, I’m a month from my 28th birthday, and we are about to move into our first house.

~Age: 27
~Number of pregnancies and births: 6 pregnancies, 3 births – two live, one still, 3 miscarriages.
~The age of your children, or how far postpartum you are: 7 1/2 years and 7 months

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In Defense of Selfies (a recap of our first weekly photo. sorta)

I feel like selfies get a bad rap these days. When I was in college (the first time) and taking photography classes, I discovered Cindy Sherman and her whole thing was selfies, although not known by that name. It was her job to take selfies. Frida Kahlo is also widely respected for her selfies. And, of course, these are probably referred to by the more serious name of “Self portrait” but what, really, is the difference?

Nearly a decade ago now I became a part of an online group whose intent was to create self-portraits on a regular basis. Some were silly, some were very clearly serious art, many were somewhere in between those two, and a few were really just the online equivalent of a wave to a group of friends. The group continued on for seven years and I made some of my best friends through my computer this way, but perhaps the most important thing for me was how much I learned about myself.

Too often we hide from the camera. My mom did, especially. She loathed having to see herself in photographs. I made a silent promise to myself that I would never hide from the camera, if for nothing else than for the sake of my kids. We have photos of all of us having fun. Someday they can sit and look through photos and see me and how young I was and they can remember all the good times, I hope.

But to purposefully turn the camera on oneself on a regular basis is a life-changing thing. I learned to see myself in all sorts of new ways. I learned that I could be pretty even when I wasn’t feeling pretty. I learned that I could also be not-pretty and that was really totally okay. I examined aspects of my physical body and aspects of my psyche. I took selfies to express something inside me, or I took selfies just to share an inane moment. Sometimes people on Facebook talk shit about seeing too many selfies, but I love seeing the faces of my friends when I cannot see them in person.


(Some of the selfies I took over the years.)

I think that a lot of the selfie-hate out there is misogynistic, really. After all, women are supposed to be pretty all the time, but they aren’t supposed to KNOW it. If we don’t look perfect, we are lazy and slobby. If we spend to much time in front of a mirror perfecting our look, we are vain. It’s another in a long line of catch-22’s we have to wade through as women. I’m so done with all that bullshit. Hell yeah, I embrace selfies!

So when I designed this new weekly photo project I tried to choose themes that were thought-provoking and body-positive. I also tried to pick themes that could be universal and not specific to just moms who have given birth. The themes I chose don’t have to be taken right now, and they don’t even have to be self-portraits (although you must have permission to post the photo, of course, because of copyright laws), but I think it can be a really powerful movement if you choose to participate. (You can see the themes for the whole year here.)

Besides, I loved seeing all of your faces last week!

winter-ad

This week’s theme is “scars”. I can’t believe that I’m about to quote Papa Roach, but there’s a line in a song that says “our scars remind us that the past is real” and I find that so relevant. We are told to erase or hide our scars, but they are the words of our stories written into our skin and we should never hide our stories. Show us your stories this week. If you didn’t participate last week, no worries at all. Just jump in any time!

52 and Utterly Depressed (Anonymous)

Hi lovely ladies it has been some comfort to me reading your stories tonight, I am 52 and have 3 children, 31, 27, and 15 yrs of age. I was always a lovely C cup until I had my first child, whilst still fitting into a C, the top of the bra was unfilled.

2nd child not too much difference.

I had my 3rd child later in life age 37 with my new man who didnt have children, never seen a pregnant tummy and had never seen the aftermath. Sadly after this birth my boobs just caved in on themselves, they are horrid, I still cant stand looking at them 15yrs on. About 10yrs ago it really got me down, hubby says he loves me the way I am but one day when he was less understanding he said to me ‘why can’t you just accept that you are down there and not like an up there 18 yr old’.

I guess his frustration of me going on about my grievance got the better of him, but that was doomsday for me, so he thinks they are awful too. I have never gotten over this, when we are out I see him looking at other woman, one cannot help it these days, boobs are in your face so to speak. He actually lost conversation the other day when a woman walked passed us in the supermarket, I continued on with our conversation and he said to me ‘I have no idea what your talking about’.

He works in the mines with loads of promiscuous young ladies, I’m really at wits end. Now I have hit menopause and dont even feel like a woman, I feel like shaving my head and cutting my boobs off so I havnt got the burden.

I absolutely hate myself and hate myself for hating myself.

Our marriage is almost in ruins because of this.

I tell him that when men wear their cocks on their chest and some have enhancements that will make him feel embarrassed compared to what he has then he may understand. Life is not reality anymore, men dont see fake, or proportion, they see BOOBS and dont give a hoot where they have come from. I have even contemplated suicide but wouldnt do it to my children.

I feel so selfish.

Depressed and Confused (Anonymous)

I am 21 years old and pregnant with my 3rd child, I had my first when I was 17 and second when I was 19. I am currently engaged to the father of these three beautiful babies. But things are rough. I am so uncomfortable with everything about my body. Before I got pregnant I was 115 pounds, after I was 160 I stretched everywhere and I have so much extra skin on my belly it just hangs and even though I’m 6 months pregnant now it’s still there. After being pregnant the first time my areoles stretched so much, I’m still uncomfortable having my fiancé see my breasts. He tries to joke about it because they sag, but it really just hurts. I can’t take it as a joke because I feel disgusting and he doesn’t understand. He just says if he doesn’t care what I look like then why should I? But just to have your body change so much and none of your clothes fit at all.. It’s heartbreaking. I go months without leaving the house at all. Not even to the grocery store. It’s been like this for 3 years. I cut myself secretly for a long time because I dont know how to deal with the pain. I feel like nobody understands, over the summer everyone would ask me why I dressed the way I did.. We would go to the beach and I would wear an oversized t shirt and men’s swim trunks. I don’t even own a bathing suit. I would love to have a daughter but I am terrified that if I do she is going to go through what I am now. How am I supposed to teach her to love her body when I can’t love my own?

Damaged Love (Anonymous)

Previous Posts: Who am I & Missing you always and forever

My love for myself is as I would describe it…Damaged. Those who used to know me, knew me as a fun loving person, someone who loved to dance, sing, act and laugh. What they didn’t know about me is that when I was the pure age around 5..? I learned of oral sex from a kid about 5 or so years older. At about the age of 7 is when it ended, when as I can remember my little brother caught things happening and told my mom. I don’t remember what my mom said to me but since then I have felt only disgust for myself. My therapist finally got this out of me just about 5 years ago, she wanted my mom to come to my counselling session with me at some point. I procrastinated asking my mom because I felt embarrassed, then she got sick and I didn’t want to put any more on her “plate”. Well now my mom has passed and I talk to her all the time still but I will never be able to hear any answers to the questions and hurt I have been through. I don’t blame her though or the boy who sexually and emotionally scarred me. I later found out that the boy himself had been abused and I felt sad for him as well. My therapist has tried to make me imagine myself talking to the little girl I once was but it is so difficult because of the disgust and hate I felt for myself has only grown over the many years of self loathing.

I can remember in grade 6 (GRADE 6) laying in the bathtub looking at my “fat” stomach wishing I was thinner, looking in the mirror and wishing I was pretty. I can’t believe how young I was to feel such hate, to feel so alone. I sat one day on the floor of the bathroom and cried until I couldn’t see, I took a razor and marked my wrist, it was a small mark because it hurt and I was scared and do you know what I thought of myself? That I was weak, I couldn’t even cut my wrist. I came out of the bathroom and my brothers friend was in the kitchen and he asked if I was ok, I said “Yes” and that was that. I was never the girl who got the boy, that is until high school when I was thin (sometimes starving), out of the “awkward” stage, and had been to the tanning beds way to often. Boys started to take an interest and I loved it, not realizing how damaging it could be to me. They only wanted one thing and I was no use to them if I said no. I never slept with many, but I can honestly say now that I’m an adult I wish I would’ve waited for “the one”.

The summer before my grade 12 year is when I met “the one”, he was sexy, he was funny and everyone knew of him. He went to school with my sister who is a couple years older than I and she can remember me having a crush on _____________. I can remember when we started dating I actually said to him “I can’t believe I’m dating _________”. I was so young and in love. After about 3 months of dating I found out I had an STD from a previous partner and needed surgery very soon. I was terrified of losing this man I put on a pedestal but I told him anyway. He was amazing through it all, he went to 2 surgeries with me and never made me feel bad for exposing him to HPV. We both said I love you very early on and he proposed just 9 months after we started dating. Of course I said yes! I would get “Are you actually marrying _________(first and last name)?!” like he was some star. Looking back I guess I never felt like I measured up to him. Fast forward to my “Who am I” post and “Missing you always and forever” post and that basically brings us to today.

I am broken down and feel like I can no longer fight. 3 months ago my husband told me he is addicted to porn. I asked him for how long he said since before me. It shattered whatever I had left in me. I have taken this man to couples counselling and he assured me and my therapist that there was nothing going on, he basically let me and my therapist believe it was my own insecurities all these years that made me question his love and attraction for me. He fooled us both. I sat by the grave yard for hours wishing I could talk to and hug my mom. I drove to a friends house after that and passed by train tracks and contemplated suicide. I parked beside the tracks for a while but continued on to my friends house. I contacted my therapist the next day. I had so many thoughts and questions….

It feels like I’ve been cheated on multiple times.
You proved my fear (of not being or looking good enough for you)….. right.
Every time you chose porn it was over me and our relationship and family.
It hurts so bad that you have to learn to want and like me again.
I hate you so much it hurts.
I feel bad for you.
I feel angry that I feel bad for you.
I feel dead inside.
I feel like I was cheated out of the last 14 years of my life, our relationship feels like a sham.
I want to burn every picture of us and my boudoir album that you chose not to look at and instead looked and watched them.
I feel that someone who loves another wouldn’t put them through this.
I feel like our home is broken.
I feel like this is the last straw on my self-esteem.
I feel like I lost my husband and best friend.
I feel like you didn’t protect me. I’m scared that I will never feel sexy or beautiful again.
I feel so stupid that I never knew.
I’m scared that I will never feel loved again.
I’m scared We will never be ok.
I’m scared We won’t work it out.
“And unlike other drugs, which users get out of their system, pornographic images stay imprinted in the brain.”
“What is disturbing, however, is that in clinical trials where subjects are exposed to repeated presentations of pornography over a six week period, the subjects are found by the end of the trial to devalue monogamy and cease to regard marriage as a lasting institution.”
I will never be able to get this out of my head.
I will have a panic attack and cry every time we have sex or try to have sex.
I will never trust you.
You will go back to using porn.
I will have this burning in my stomach and chest forever.
I will always be nauseous.
I’m scared that I am too weak to leave and I am scared that I should leave.
I’m scared we won’t feel like a family again.
I’m scared I will feel like you are always looking at other women or ARE looking at other women.
I’m scared I will never trust you to be alone again.
I’m scared you will skin to skin cheat.
You chose them over me for 14 years, I’m scared you always will or want to.

All these years I have felt alone. All these years I’ve been telling you I need more, I need the compliments and reassurance. All these years you have been choosing other women over me. All these years we could’ve been having sex, instead you made me feel not good enough. You didn’t compliment me, you lied to my face, you made me feel crazy that I felt like something just wasn’t right. How am I to do this!!!

How come porn is so easily accessible and cheap …… FREE even!! I have even looked at it myself because my husband told me he had favorites so of course curiosity got the best of me and now I know what his “ideal” woman looks like and know that I will never look anything close to it even if I lost weight and had multiple surgeries I wouldn’t look like that. I wish it did not exist. I can’t even sleep in the same bed as my own husband anymore. I feel like porn has taken my person and my home (my safe place) away from me. Even though my husband is going to an addictions counsellor once a week, reading and doing work books, and I am seeing my own therapist, I am still scared with what choices I am left with. If I leave, I am leaving the man I love and can’t imagine being without. I also can’t imagine seeing him and my boys with another woman in their lives with this option. My second choice would be to stay, and to stay means to let go (not forgive), I will need to let go and try to move forward with little trust and having the feelings I do I don’t know how……

2 under 2 under 22 (Princess)

I had stretch marks and was overweight before kids, and i was learning to love them. When I found myself pregnant with my son my body changed all over again and at 19 I was trying ti learn to love my new body and the little body inside. I gained a lot of weight due to stress eating. My little man was born 7lbs 9oz in 2013. Hes 2 now. In November of 2014 i found out the fertility gods had given me another unexpected gift. My body hadnt rebounded yet from the first when my 10lb 4oz little girl came along my body was scarred, stretched, and pretty wrecked up. I needed ten more perineal stitches after her natural birth, to go with brothers episiotomy stitches, but thats okay! My scars aren’t all visable to the world, that doesn’t mean they aren’t there. But even though I felt like my body was ruined, my babies didn’t. My son enjoys tracing the “booboos” on my tummy and my little girl often snuggles into my extra skin & fat.
They love me and someday i will too.

My name is princess I’ll be 22 in January and I am pretty proud of what my body made!

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Daily Struggle (Anonymous)

I’m 28 years old and just had my second child. My first is 7 years old and my most recent is almost 6 weeks old. After my first child I was involved in a few unhealthy relationships. In both of these, I was abused both mentally and physically. Part of the mental abuse included tearing down my self image and pointing out all of my flaws that I was told men would be disgusted with…my stretch marks and sagging breasts with large areola. Now that I’ve had my second child my body has changed again for the worst and all of those damaging statements flooded back to haunt me. This combined with my husband enjoying looking at other females has me fighting a daily battle with myself. I currently struggle with eating. I was 120 before my second pregnancy and gained 55 pounds. I’m currently at 140 but can’t eat. I try to stay positive with this website and positive quotes regarding self esteem and image but then I see my body in the mirror and I break down again. I see all of my flaws and new ones. My areola has gotten even larger and darker. My breasts sag even more and have lost more volume and breastfeeding. My stomach has even more stretch marks and is now longer flat like it was 10 mo this ago. My thighs have doubled in size. I have a tire around my entire midsection.

Most times I can’t even look at myself or others in the eye because I’m so ashamed. I wish more than anything I could be happy and love myself. But with the media/society along with previous men who have told me I’m not beautiful remind me of reality. This daily battle has affected my marriage and I’m afraid my girls will grow to see it. I tell them daily that they are beautiful in hopes that they never have to endure this emotional pain. I have often times turned to his website to help me knowing that there are other women out there who have had children and look beautiful in my eyes. You all truly are but I still can’t see it in myself. I have a consultation for surgery at 6 months post partum to make changes. Even that decision I am torn with. For now I will continue to try to win this fight although it is slowing beating me down.

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Mother of Twins, I feel so Alone (Linzy)

Hi…i am a mother of twins. Boy girl…love your site. I am a combat veteran and have severe ptsd but along with battle scars are my almost year old twin scars and im seriously trying to gain perspective on this whole body image thing…i love my children but hate myself im freaking out. I started visiting your site when i found out i was pregnant…it really keeps me in check on some days where i feel alone and afraid of my thoughts and feelings esp on being a mother.

I dont have pics before but here im 11 months pp.

My name is Linzy and im 27

Had 1 abortion 2 miscarriages.
All prior to the twins.

I stand with Planned Parenthood

(image via Huffington Post)
(image via Huffington Post)

I have used Planned Parenthood for yearly exams, for health issues, and for antibiotics when I’ve had a UTI. When I didn’t have insurance, this was my only choice and I am SO GLAD that not only was I able to go there for my health care, but also that I have never experienced harassment while visiting one of these clinics (let alone violence like we saw today).

I know a lot of my readers at SOAM are not in favor of abortions, but I am here to say very clearly that I support ALL mamas, no matter what your history. If you’ve used PP for birth control or an abortion or nothing at all I support you. If you’ve chosen not to have children, or if you are a trans man who has had children I support you.

This kind of violence is disgusting and makes me want to cry.

25 yrs old, 4 years pp mother of 2! (Anonymous)

Where has the time gone!? This is not my first submission, i did another back in april 2012 titled 21 with 2 babies. I am now 25 and 4 years pp! Can’t believe my youngest will be 4 on oct 31st!

Ok, but back to the beginning. I’ve had 2 pregnancies and 2 births. I was 19 when i gave birth to my 1st (he is now 5 and in kindergarten), and 21 when i gave birth to my 2nd. Both amazingly handsome little boys and they are 19 months apart. I have been happily married to the love of my life for going on 7 years. My husband is super loving and tries his hardest to make me feel beautiful, but its hard for me. I am currently at my pre pregnancy weight, that’s not what gets me upset. Its my boobs :( after breastfeeding both my boys, one for 9 months the other for a year, they sure took a beating! I went from a C cup to a DD while nursing, now I’m maybe a B. And they are definitely not as happy as they used to be. I feel fine in clothing, but its a different story when the clothing comes off. You ladies are amazing for sharing your stories and pictures, each and everyone of you are beautiful! God bless!

Updated here.