Belly

A Deeper Beauty (Jessica)

Bonnie (SOAM) Belly, First Pregnancy, Postpartum, Pregnant, Submissions 7 Comments

Age: 23
Number of Pregnancies and Births: 1/1
How far postpartum : 7 months

I have been reading the stories of these lovely ladies since I stumbled upon it at a few weeks post partum. Looking for other women who looked like myself that I could relate to not only physically but emotionally. I was so greatful to have come across this site and to be able to see the beautiful photos and read the wonderful stories submitted. I have finally mustered the courage to submit mine. My husband and I met our junior year of high school and not long after decided to marry. A “high school sweetheart” story it was not though. Through many ups and downs, his enlisting in the military and being taken far from me for over a year, constant worrying and wondering if he would make it home, it was needless to say a very strange way to spend your first year of marriage. When he returned it was everything I dreamed for a few weeks. But I could tell something was not right. In hindsight I know now that he suffered from a classic case of post traumatic stress disorder due to all he endured in his 16 month deployment overseas. Our relationship suffered. But we continued to fight for it. We wouldn’t give up so easily. After a hard several months we all sat down, his parents and us and had a long discussion about how we could progress forward in a healthy way. We came to an agreement that we still wanted to be together and would do everything possible to do so. So for the next few months things started to even out. His sister who had been pregant, gave birth to a beautiful little girl, and during the few weeks after that we visited with them and his mother who had come down from Ohio, I realized, I was late. We had had a few times before when I thought I might be pregnant, so this time it never really occured to me that I may actually be. A few more days of waiting, found me at the drugstore counter paying for a pregnancy test. Driving over to my mother’s house I wasn’t too concerned with it, thinking “oh it’ll be just like the last few times, it will be negative…”. Hah. Little did I know. After using the test I waited the recommended time to flip it over and when I did I two very faint pink lines showed in the window. I snatched up the box and double checked the results chart, thinking some how it must be a mistake. I walked into the other room dumbfounded and asked my mom, “Do you see this??” She put on her reading glasses to take a closer look, “…hmm…yeah I see it…its faint but its definitely there…i think you’re pregnant…” My heart pounding in my chest, I dropped onto the bed…”oh my god…” I didn’t know what to do. Part of me was excited, the other part scared out of my mind. I knew that sometimes there were false positives so I went and bought a few more tests and waited til the next morning to take them, and another in the afternoon at work. Each and every one was positive, each one growing darker and darker and more positive with each one I took. I waited a few days to tell my husband so I could be sure. I took his mom and sister aside and told them first, they were kind of in shock, but a happy kind. So I asked them to wait there with me while I told him. I pulled him aside with his mom and sister looking on and pulled the tests from my pocket and said “Well honey you better be prepared because I think you are gonna be a daddy…” His face lit up and he said “what??” smiling. We were both excited but VERY nervous, because as a young married couple we weren’t exactly in the best financial place.

The next few months were a blur of doctors appointments and shopping, thinking up names, and dealing with the sudden and rapid changes that were happening to my body. But a shadow loomed on the horizon. At about 4 months along, my husband and I chose to separate, exactly a year to the day yesterday come to think of it. Not wanting to go into the messy details of it all, it suddenly seemed he had a nervous breakdown knowing that his life was about to change drastically and two lives would now rely on him to take care of them. Never mind, I was the one who couldn’t just decide to walk away from the whole situation. I was angry and upset and hurt to say the least. But our child was still the most important thing to us. That no matter what we would put her first before our own petty differences. Fortunately enough we worked through our issues and decided to reunite before the birth. We both knew ultimately it was what we wanted and the time we spent apart is actually what saved our marriage.

Towards the end of my pregnancy, I became very uncomfortable. My lower back ached, my ribs ached from my daughter nestling up under them and making it hard to breathe. I had to pee every 5 minutes it seemed. And my feet and hands swole up to the size of sausages. :) Fortunately for myself I only gained about 25 lbs. which my doctor actually thought I should’ve gained a little more but wasn’t concerned and the baby was healthy. Unfortunately for the last 4 months I suffered from Gestational Diabetes, although I have no history of it in my family, and I am not overweight. The doctor explained that sometimes that happens, when your pregnant body just doesn’t produce the right amount of hormones to regulate blood sugar. So I was put on a specific diet and told to do easy exercises like walking and swimming. Not to mention to prick my finger 4 times a day and keep track of my blood sugar levels. FUN! is the overstatement of the year!

The day I went into labor, was a strange day. :) Being that it was 2 weeks before my due date, it didn’t cross my mind that it could possibly be labor. All that day I had been in pain, my lower back aching, my stomach tight, just general end of pregnancy discomfort…or so I thought. I went to the DMV with my mother and to the library and by then in the afternoon I was having to pace the floor just to keep myself distracted from the pain. Once home, I tried to eat dinner, and take a hot bath, then relax in my glider rocking chair putting my feet up. Usually that helped with the pain. Not tonight. At about 6 oclock I knew this wasn’t normal pain. I called my doctor and explained to her how I felt and she said, “it sounds to me like you are contracting, if you’ll try and breathe through it and keep track of them to see if they are coming every 5 minutes. If they are go ahead and come up to the hospital, I am on call all weekend.” After I got off the phone with her, I tried to lay down and watch a movie but the pain just intensified, and the contractions were getting harder to breathe through. But I continued to try. Almost crying during the most intense points of my contractions, I checked the clock. 10:00 p.m. Okay I have had enough they are 5 minutes apart and it’s time to head to the hospital. Thank goodness I had packed my bags prior to all this! My mother, my husband, and I all piled into our car, and took the 5 minute trip to the hospital. I recall stating “man if I have been hurting this bad and nothing has happened yet I am gonna be pissed!” Oh just wait…

Once being admitted and changed into the hospital gown, the nurse checks me and says, “well you’re about 4 centimeters dilated and 100% effaced, so lets get started!”. I was in shock! I looked from my husbands nervous face, to my mothers and said “i guess were gonna have a baby!” I stuck it out as long as possible, about another hour and “asked nicely” for my epidural. Not knowing that it take a million years for them to finally get around to you, I finally got it and was able to sleep for a little while. About every hour they came into check me, and each time I was dilating more and more. Slowly but surely I started to feel pain in my left side. The anesthesiologist had told me that I should feel pressure but not pain. She administered another dose and it eased away. The nurse came in and checked again and I was a 10 and fully effaced.
Now came the hard part. Having my daughter in my arms was so close I could almost feel here there already. Everyone left the room except the nurse, and my husband, my doctor was on her way. We started out with a few “practice” pushes, just to get things rolling. She said I was so doing great. But slowly I started to feel pain creep back over me on my left side. I mentioned it to the nurse and she said “well, honey to be honest you’re going to be able to push a whole lot better if you can feel some of it…so if you can push through it, we should probably try, because it will be over faster.” I gathered my strength, my breath, my husband beside me supporting me, telling me I could do it. “okay…” A few more pushes later and I felt like I was trying to birth a 2 ton bus! My doctor came in and checked me, said we were moving a long good but that the baby was “caddy-womped” (her word) or slanted, so she needed to shift her a little so she could come out better. As she did so,I felt an unbelievable pressure like I had never felt in my life! I did my best to keep as much composure as I could between contractions. The nurses and my doctor had been counting for me, when to push etc. But suddenly I felt a HUGE urge to push…’I need to push NOW!” I almost yelled, my doctor got in position, “Go for it mama, go for it!” And go for it I did. My labor went on like that for what seemed like forever, but was probably only moments. Those last five minutes were the most painful moments I have ever had in my existence, but suddenly the pressure, pain and exhaustion was gone. And there she was…her little cry ringing out in the room. Laid on my chest and being cleaned off I was so tired I couldn’t even cry even though my insides wanted to, all I could do was smile this big cheesy grin. My husband had tears in his eyes as he kissed my forehead and said “you did it!” I never felt more in love and more happy than in that moment.

Since that day my body has changed in so many ways. My hips widened from expanding and containing my precious little girl, bringing her into the world. My belly has a little pooch now. And although I never got stretch marks during my pregnancy, post par tum stretch marks dotted the underside of my belly as my skin returned to normal. I have days when I look in the mirror while I’m getting dressed or getting out of the shower, and I don’t feel confident. I wish for a trim fit “perfect” body that I can run around in a bathing suit in worry free. But what is perfect? I started a workout plan about 3 months post par tum and I did really great for a while, but it took up my whole life. It was a program that required me to workout for an hour and a half everyday except sunday. It required me to follow a special diet, that required me to buy food that honestly my family couldn’t afford. It was taking away time and enjoyment that I could be spending with my family. I am still very healthy and make smart food choices but I let myself indulge when I want to. I love being active and using my body to dance, do yoga, play with daughter and just have fun, and I will continue to do so. But I will not enslave myself to something to try and fit some “ideal” type or size. I want to fully accept myself for exactly who I am and look in the mirror and see something more, a deeper beauty. Because nothing is more beautiful than the blessing that is my daughter and the body that Spirit gave me to create life, to live each day with gratitude and to love with an open heart.

Hope you guys enjoy the photos, the first is of me at about 15 weeks along, the second is about 2 weeks before I gave birth and the rest are me 7 months post par tum. Thanks for reading.

Positive Pregnancy (Marta)

Bonnie (SOAM) Belly, First Pregnancy, Homebirth, Pregnant, Submissions 6 Comments

Pregnancy #1
Weeks Pregnant- 30
Age:27

I have been fascinated by pregnancy and mothers from a very young age. Before my husband and I began trying we had spent years educating ourselves on pregnancy and what we wanted for our first born. I’ve always been a naturalist at heart and so we have chosen a home birth, although in the end its not really in our hands, is it? Let go of expectations and control is what I remind myself. In the beginning of my pregnancy, I honestly had a hard time with the nausea and connecting with this tiny being inside of me. By my second trimester I was feeling much better but then struggled with all the mommies around me forcing their opinions and negativity on me. Some of my family and friends are a bit apprehensive about the whole home birth idea. But I think its just a matter of fearing what we don’t know. In the end, I know the worries come from a place of love. Through all the criticisms and scare tactics, my mantra has been “I am beautiful, I am strong, and I can make my own decisions.” Baby is listening and feeling and I want to make sure love and positive energy is surrounding it at all times because I know that everything affects everything. In my third trimester now, I’m in love with being pregnant and the way that my body looks. I have been vigilant in doing daily massage with oil, staying hydrated, eating nurturing food and finding my flow in yoga (30 weeks and still teaching 4 times a week). The most important thing, I think, is taking this time to slow down and take care of yourself-after all, growing a human is the most important endeavor you’ll ever take on. Take action to surround yourself by love and positive people, nurture your body and soul, follow your intuition and remember that this is your family- the choices for your new family are for you and your partner to make.

I’m not afraid to birth. I know that my body has all the tools it needs. But that doesn’t mean I’m being naive either. I know it will be the most intense experience of my life. The fact, though, that I’m bringing life into this world and that we can’t wait to meet the little one (the gender will be a surprise) that makes my belly wiggle like a bowl full of Jello overshadows any fear. To be continued…

Love + Light
Marta

A Map Where He Lived (Kace)

Bonnie (SOAM) Belly, Cesarean, Child Loss, Complications in Pregnancy, Cosmetic and/or Reconstructive Surgery, Postpartum, Second Pregnancy, Submissions, Twins 15 Comments

Kace, age 31
3 children, aged 7 and 5

The irony of my being able to find beauty in the natural shape of a mom’s form postpartum is not lost on me. I served a year in the military and was sexually assaulted. As a byproduct of the sexual assaults I rejected the female form. I wanted to hide and disappear into nothing, which first took the form of excessive exercise, moving on to anorexia and finally bulimia. Clawing my way out of this torture and mutilation to self took 5 years; I did so with the help of a great support system. I was dating my husband during the tail end of a very hard cycle. My husband has always been my greatest advocate and approving audience. He has found me beautiful at every stage, and encouraged me to also see beauty in me.

My husband and I fought for some time to be able to hold on to a pregnancy. The conceiving was never hard, it was the holding on to it that seemed impossible. When I had an operation to remove endometriosis, we were finally able to hold on and follow through with a birth. And boy howdy did we conceive after that first operation! Twins, a boy and girl. The pregnancy was not without its complications though, and at 6 months we were warned of Robbie’s Ebstein’s anomaly, a genetic defect of the heart, and the high likelihood of his death. We took the moments we had and held tight and we dreamed big. To do otherwise was counter intuitive to the gift of just having him in that moment.

To this day I have moments where I don’t know how to answer the question, “how many children do you have?”. In my heart, always, I have 3 children. I held 3 children in my arms, the twins on the day of their birth, and my youngest son on the day of his birth. Though I can only hold 2 of my children every day, Robbie is as much apart of my day as his brother and sister. If I answer 3 to someone who doesn’t know my story though, they look over my shoulder and I see them counting and doing a double take. There’s the follow up explanation, and the uncomfortable silence, as the person flounders for the proper thing to say after such an admission. Generally, it’s an “I’m sorry for your loss”, which is a perfectly acceptable thing to say…How, though, do I explain, in the moments of uncomfortable silence following the explanation, and the offer of condolence, that my answer of 3 is only for me. It’s not for them, for the condolences or the pity. It’s that to not include Robbie, especially in the years close to his death, is and was, like feeling his death over and over. Or more, blotting out the precious moments I held him, watched my husband hold him. More often than not these days, I say I have 2 children to those just meeting me. There is always this moment that happens inside of myself though, a thought for my first born son, when I tell myself, I have 3.

The loss of Robbie will always be a wound, a hole in my life that can never be healed, but the degree of pain has lessened…it’s not a pulsing beat that steals my breath most days, every minute. I found laughter again. I found peace, and comfort. My children are my absolute reason. That’s a complete sentence. My Reason. The days are more, the moments in time are bigger, better, because I have them, whether with me here, or above.

Robbie taught me so much in the months that I held him in me. I learned of my children in such an intimate way in the 8 months I carried them. Lexa rode very low in my pelvic area, and Robbie’s place was always at the left side, as near the top as he could get. Most of the time I had the weirdest pregnancy belly I had ever seen, the bottom taut, full of spirited little girl, and the top full of a baby boy who held on with everything he had. The center of my belly, the place where most women are the tightest, was mushy on occasion, this area of “unfilledness”. I was hooked and mesmerized. Of course they would sometimes change positions, usually during the sonogram, with Lexa being the camera hog, and Robbie just quietly being. For the most part, they held their places, bottom and top. In truth, there were moments where I was horrified to watch the changing in my body take place. The stretch marks starting way lower than I found normal, and rising up to the top, just below my breasts. There was virtually no area of my body left unscathed by carrying my babies… my breasts, thighs, hips.

There were moments I held on to. Small blessings we treasure to this day during a pregnancy that could have turned into 32 ½ weeks of mourning, of silent vigil. Because of Robbie’s diagnosis, we got to see the babies on an ultrasound once a week, an event we often anticipated. It was joy for the moments we got to see his heartbeats. See him move. We talked of the future, of what we would do when we became a family of 4. We knew the odds, and were always aware on some level of the reality. We chose though, to live with hope. I’ll always be grateful that we did.

Robbie passed away in utero. A forced birth was necessary for the health and well being of Lexa. To prepare me, my gynecologist explained what I could expect. When I was told that vaginal delivery could possibly damage Robbie, mar him, my only thought was “I can’t do that to him”. I couldn’t’t face the idea of what that kind of delivery could do to him. I requested a c-section. I felt I had to give Robbie this dignity, a gentler way of coming into this world. On the day that I was released from the hospital, we buried Robbie. The weeks following saw us coming and going from the hospital NICU, waiting for the day we could bring home our Lexa.

People mean well, I always kept that in mind. Often times though, the kindest overture feels like a knife being twisted. The phrase “at least you have one baby to hold” could make me cry in the moments no one was watching. I wanted to scream. I remember particularly a pamphlet the hospital sent home, Empty Arms. I wondered at why people couldn’t see how empty my arms were, even filled with a blessing like my girl…There was supposed to be a second child in my arms too. Twins. It was a word that would leave me reeling. To this day, when my kids jokingly tell each other when they match or say the same things, “we’re twins”, my heart can skip, for just a moment. I wanted to see the twin bond that I hear so much about, that my grandma shared with her twin Jack. I wanted to hear their special language, watch the friendship that no other could match. I wanted two birthday cakes on the same day in May, celebrating the same milestones.

My parents often visit Robbie’s grave. My mom, a blessing, has decorated his grave for every holiday and birthday. Windmills mean so much more, as I see her buy them for my son, knowing they circle in the wind for him. I don’t visit. I can’t think of him there. If I go, I only remember his death, the day they covered his tiny casket. I can’t do that to myself, allow myself to feel that pain to the point where the joy disappears. I want to remember his heartbeats on the monitor, and the times I saw him moving. The personality I felt from him, my little lion, who held on as long as possible.

Jason and I spoke rarely of Robbie after his passing. We mourned together, and cried, hung on. It was months later when I wasn’t so focused on my own grief, that I realized how tightly Jason held on to his grief, not letting it all out, so that he could give me his strength. I ache when I think about how he suffered quietly, to make sure I got through okay.

After a year we began talking of having one more child, even though we feared the loss. Again, we experienced the miscarriages and again, I had to have the surgery that removes endometriosis.

Two years after the twins, along came Nathan. I never lost the baby weight from the twins. On top of that, I gained as much weight with my little man that I had with the twins. I was forced into another c-section, as my gyno would not perform a v-bag. My body was ravaged.

When my husbands hands would travel over my stomach, over the loose skin, and stretch marks, particularly the pregnancy pooch that dragged my stomach to the “down there” level, I would flinch. I couldn’t handle him touching the ugliness. I would cover every inch I could, turn my back when I changed. He often told me he found my body gorgeous. He saw my stomach, in all its gory detail, gorgeous, because it was where our children came from. Jason would cajole, and force his hand to stay on my stomach, willing me to be comfortable with it, to see it as he saw it…and I couldn’t.

Another miscarriage. It became clear that I would have to have surgery for endometriosis every couple of years to eliminate pain. Jason and I discussed our options. In the end we decided it was best to have a hysterectomy. One more surgery that cut stomach muscles.

I no longer had feeling in stomach. It wasn’t until Nathan was maybe a year old that I noticed this monster lump under the skin. I knew immediately it was a hernia. Stealing myself against the doubt and worry from another surgery, I had it repaired. It failed 3 months later, most likely, as a couple surgeons told me, helped along by the flap of skin hanging down. I was told once you get a hernia, there is a 50% chance it can come back. It took almost another 3 years before I would carry through with another repair, combining it with a tummy tuck to give me that 10% increase in odds, a magical number of 40% chance of the hernia coming back. I was a bit excited at the idea of getting rid of all this excess. I looked forward to the physical change that this would entail. I had an immeasurable amount of shame associated with this part of my body. Not to mention I now had medical implications tied to it. Day to day living with my kids had changed. The pain was intense, often times I would have to slip away quietly so the kids didn’t see, to take care of the hernia, forcing it back into it’s rightful place.

The feelings that arose on the morning that we drove to the hospital for the surgery in the first week of March (12 days now) were ones I wasn’t expecting, or prepared for. Outside of the fear of death, which I teased about (but seriously, I feared) for a year prior, I was afraid of losing this trace of my son. It was the last physical sign of Robbie. I gripped my husband’s hand “what if they take it all, I don’t want them to take away everything”? I couldn’t bear the thought that this last vestige of Robert Hunter being carved from me. I had to do this though. I had to go through with the surgery for my kids, forget the fear of dying, and forget my last minute resistance to lose the flesh that had for years repulsed me. As a mom, I had to be physically able to keep up with them, the pain of the hernia making it impossible to do so.

Waking from anesthesia, I raised my gown with trepidation, worried over what I would find. I had joy I cannot adequately explain. Beneath my bandages, I could already see flatness to my belly I hadn’t seen since embarking on the parenting trail. Above the bandages, from belly button to breasts, in crazy patterns only myself and my husband can interpret, were stretch marks. This was the place where Robbie lived. This to me was the most beautiful thing. I had the best of both worlds. A chance to be well from a medical standpoint, and physically able to keep up with my kids. I also had an incredible bonus, the map that my son left behind for me. The surgery changed one part of me. My body as a whole though, still bears the mark of having children. I have lumps and bumps, things have shifted and somehow gravity overcame. I see now, though, what my husband tried so hard to convince me of when he held his hand to my stomach. Not because of what the doctors could change, and what was taken, but because of what was left behind.

10.5 months postpartum:how body change after each child (Kristin)

Bonnie (SOAM) Belly, Postpartum, Question, Second Pregnancy, Submissions, Update 5 Comments

Number of Pregnancy/children: 3 pregnancy’s , 2 children(one ended in miscarriage)
How many months postpartum: 10.5months (as of March 16)

First entry.
Second entry.
Third entry.

I wrote here other times telling you all my story and how i was not happy about my body after 2 children but how much my beautiful children are worth every mark. Well i am 22 years old, will be 23 later this year and my hubby is 26 now, and will be 27 this year as well. We have one boy(about 26 months) and girl(10.5 months). Well a few days ago, our condom broke and now i am really worried, i love my children and we do plan on having another child in the future but i am really worried about my body after a third child. I know my child would be worth it if i was pregnant and i don’t believe in abortion. But as much i i do want another child(prefer in the future) i am still worried about the aftermath of my body, when i had my son, my body changed completely, after i had my daughter it went back to looking what it did after my son, it didn’t get any worst. I am not to happy about my body but i still have good days thinking i look good for having 2 kids, and my husband loves my body especially my boobs but what if after our third child my boobs change, or my stomach. I am also worried because if i was to get pregnant that meant my body only had a 10.5 month rest before getting pregnant again, my body only had about 6 months rest before i got pregnant with my second, so i am scared that my body will change so much cause i didnt give it much time to heal for all pregnancy’s, you know? you think what i am saying is right or does it not matter? I know my child would be worth it but i am still scared. Does your body change after you have each child? how much? Mine didn’t change after 2nd child so does that mean it wont after my 3rd child? or will it a lot? I am asking this, but really it dont matter cause i plan on having a 3rd child in the future anyways, i am just paranoid as how i will change after a 3rd child. I love my husband and kids so much and i do look forward to getting pregnant(i love being pregnant)and having another child, and i wish i could just shut this thought out of my head, i hate it, i do. Anyway thanks for reading, i truly do appreciate it. Trust me i am having a 3rd child god willing regardless but thought i would get some input. Oh and i am 113 pounds now.Thanks

First 2 pics are of me now(10.5 postpartum)
Other 2 pics ,me now with top on

Rachael

Bonnie (SOAM) Belly, First Pregnancy, Postpartum, Pregnant, Submissions 6 Comments

Hello,

My Name is Rachael. I am 22, I live in Bunbury, Western Australia.

I had my baby boy “Traye” on the 21st of February 2010… so that makes me 3 and a half weeks “PP”.

I knew i was going to have a bad stomach because of how quickly my stretch marks came up.. i started showing at like 2 and a half months..

In my whole pregnancy i put on 28kg, something i so was not and still not proud of… when Traye came out i lost 6kgs.. and now ive lost all up 10kgs…

Ive still got along way to go… but i no now by tuning in to the lifestyle you channel on Foxtel with Louise Redknapp Episode that if it took 9 months to put the weight on its going to take at least that to get the weight off..

I look at my son and think well at least something great came out of the pregnancy. labour and delivery ( im sweating just thinking about it )

Thanks for reading this

From Rachael

Teen Mum of One (Anonymous)

Bonnie (SOAM) Belly, First Pregnancy, Postpartum, Pregnant, Submissions, Teen Mom 11 Comments

I’m 19 years old. Found out I was pregnant when I was 18 and turned 19 during my pregnancy. I felt really terrible about myself from 6 months pregnant on. I felt I looked so huge and disgusting and cried about it alot. My body after having my baby turned out not to be much better. I had gone from 154lbs to 188lbs and felt so awful. I managed to get my weight down and am now 148lbs but the stretch marks are still pretty upsetting. I really hoped to be able to wear a bikini this summer, after I had lost all the weight, but now I don’t know that I could show my stretch marks. My tummy is also a bit wobbly and yuck. I do definitely feel better though when I come on this site. I love how people aren’t afraid to show themselves as they really are. It makes you feel so bad when you see celebrities on magazine covers in tiny bikinis 6 weeks after their babies and they look perfect. It’s comforting to know that other people feel self-conscious sometimes about their post-pregnancy bodies. I am now 15 weeks postpartum and although I’m looking better than I did, my tummy is definitely not right :S . The first pic is me when I was 9 months pregnant and the second and third are me 14 weeks postpartum. I love my little girl to bits but still hard to accept my new body…

Regarding the OC Register Article (Anonymous)

Bonnie (SOAM) Belly, Mom over 30, Postpartum, Second Pregnancy, Submissions 8 Comments

“Stretching the Truth” seemed a very appropriate title for the article in today’s newspaper! I have heard so many women say that their children ruined their bodies. I know that is not the case with me! I have two beautiful girls. One is over 30 years old and the other just started college. My first pregnancy I ate well and was quite active at my job. I walked alot and only gained 28 pounds. I was also only 22 years old. My body returned to its pre-pregnancy wt. of 125 pounds within a week after delivery. My daughter was a healthy 9 pounds and 4 ounces at birth! During my second pregnancy (at 34 years old) I was not so fortunate. By then I had a more sedentary job and a lot of co-workers who brought in donuts almost daily. I gained 40 pounds of what I called my “donut fat”. After delivery I started eating sensibly again and doing some moderate exercising. It took me almost a year to get back to a healthy weight. I am a nurse who has worked with many eating disordered clients and I believe we should strive for progress not perfection when dealing with weight issues. It is a shame but we do pass down our attitudes about food and weight to our children. Passing on the message that being pregnant causes you to retain “baby fat” forever, or that there is a certain “shape” of mothers is incorrect. As this web site shows, you can have children without ending up obese or even out of shape. It’s too bad that the article seemed too focused on the negative aspects of our bodies afterwards. Not everyone has this experience and although having children does change your body it is NOT their fault! I know my extra pounds came from eating for four instead of two. I have a new diet and it’s simple to follow..eat less and move more! I am in my early fifties now and have never felt better. My kids appreciate that I am healthy and active enough to do things with them. This web site is a wonderful way for women to gain insight into their attitudes and beliefs about what happens to their bodies during pregnancy. P.S. The attached photos were taken today and were not retouched..I have also not had any nipping or tucking done : )

Self hate? Why not celebrate! (Brittany)

Bonnie (SOAM) Belly, Breasts, Positive Body Image/Words of Enouragement, Second Pregnancy, Submissions 19 Comments

4 months post-partum with second child, first child is 3yrs

My name is Brittany and I am a 24 year old mother of two. I have a 3 year old son and a 4month old baby girl. Like many women, I have struggled with body issues for a majority of my life. I have hated my body for almost as long as I can remember. My first and only real relationship is with the father of my two children, and we started dating when I was 17. My body issues cast a huge shadow over our entire relationship. Whenever we watched a movie, or went to the mall, I would be constantly seeking out gorgeous women, wondering if he was wishing that he was with them instead of me. And this was before I had kids, mind you!!! Pregnant with my first born at 20 was not planned, and I dealt with that stress by eating my way through the pregnancy. I went from 115lbs to 185, and have the stretch marks to match every pound I gained. I was naïve and depressed and didn’t take care of my body at all. After my son was born, I went from hating my body, to wishing that I had my old body back. I would look back at pictures taken prior to my pregnancy and wonder to myself, what was there to hate?? I had a beautiful, strong body and hated every inch of it!! And that is when I realized that, the problem doesn’t lie in what my body looks like, its all in my head. Even when I had a flat stomach, free of stretch marks, I didn’t like myself. It isn’t about having a perfect body, it’s about loving yourself. With my second pregnancy, I went from 122lbs to 155 and didn’t get any stretch marks the second time around. I will never have my pre-pregnancy body, but now that my body has given birth to 2 wonderful, smart, loving, hilarious children, I love it even more, regardless of what it looks like. My boyfriend calls my stretch marks my badges of honour and he is absolutely right. Every now and then my sister-in-law will make snide remarks about how her husband is so glad she never got a single stretch mark, and he would hate it if she did. It used to bother me, but now I know that without these scars, I would have nothing physical to remind me of the wonderful nine months I had with my babies inside me, depending on me for their very survival. After I made peace with my new body, I felt so liberated!!! I have more confidence now than I have ever had. Instead of crying over my new body, which I used to do, I love it even more for everything it went through to bring me my precious family. Never wearing a bikini again is a small price to pay for my children, and I would do it again in a heartbeat. If anyone ever has anything to say about my loose skin and stretch marks, that is their problem, not mine because I love every inch of who I am!! If I don’t show my daughter how to love herself, she might very well grow up with the same self esteem issues I had, and I am not going to let that happen! So lets celebrate who we are, and what we’ve been through, because we are all worthy of love!!

Update 3 years PP..Bio Oil made a difference! (Anonymous)

Bonnie (SOAM) Belly, First Pregnancy, Postpartum, Submissions, Update 11 Comments

Age: 26
Age of child :3 years old

This is an update from my previous submission. I haven’t really changed my eating habits, I eat as best I can and I still cant motivate myself to exercise on a regular basis..actually I gained some weight since the last entry. When the entry was written I weighed 116, now I jump between 118-120 depending on the day. The pictures from my first entry weren’t very clear so you couldn’t see the stretch marks on my stomach but they made me really self conscious. I use to think even if maybe I lost the weight, my stomach would still be covered in stretch marks so I would be too embarrassed to wear a bikini. Throughout my pregnancy and after giving birth I tried so many stretch creams I lost count.I would look at other moms with clear stomach and think how absolutely unfair it was that I spent all this money to “prevent” and “treat” tummy stretch marks and mine looked like it had been mauled by a cat. That along with the cottage cheese effect of losing weight made me feel like crap when I looked at my stomach. Well, I am a review junkie and started reading reviews about Bio Oil so I figured maybe just maybe it would make a difference. I began using Walgreens version of Bio Oil (same ingredients) on my stomach Feb 17,2010. I have been using it twice a day and decided to take pictures to see if I saw a difference. This sounds like an ad for bio oil..lol! Its not, its just that I wanted to share a product with you girls. Well, here are my pics..I see a difference, not huge but noticeable..tell me what you ladies think..

Pic# 1 Feb 17th 2010 first day I started using it. I was pretty bloated.
Pic#2 March 1st 2010
Pic #3 March 13th 2010
Pic #4 March 13th 2010 close up

Due in 12 days! (First Time Mother)

Bonnie (SOAM) Belly, Breasts, First Pregnancy, Pregnant, Submissions 7 Comments

I’m very close to giving birth to my firstborn, a girl. I was about 180 lbs at conception. That’s about 20 lbs heavier than my normal weight, and in a little bout of irony, I was dedicating my summer to exercise in an attempt to get back down to 160, when bam, I got pregnant and sick! extreme fatigue and nausea kept me plastered to the couch for the rest of the summer! and the only food i could enjoy was carbs! so no weight loss for me. i’m now up to 230, or 238 if you believe the scale at the midwife clinic instead of mine. Kinda funny, but i really believed that i could eat for two while pregnant. So i put on weight fast, and by month 7, the midwives advised me to re-think how much i was eating. since then i’ve stopped with the unlimited food intake and only gained a couple more pounds to finish off the pregnancy. it’s pretty shocking to look in the mirror and see this huge belly and huge breasts. i can’t remember when my breasts started sitting on the shelf of my belly. the lower half of my stomach resembles a dry and cracked riverbed of stretch marks. I was convinced for a long time that i wouldn’t get many stretch marks. wrong!! now they are appearing on my inner thighs too, which is a little disconcerting. I’m really looking forward to meeting this baby, but i’m pretty fearful of what my body will look like after birth. I’m not harboring any delusions that my jeans will magically fit right away, but I do really hope that breastfeeding is going to take care of a lot of this extra belly. i’ve also got high hopes that a jogging stroller plus a summer free from work will go a long way to giving me time to re-claim a body that i’m comfortable with.

i’m really curious to find out what this baby girl weighs, as i was almost 9 lbs at birth and my husband was almost 12 lbs!!! maybe this weight is all baby!

~Age: 26
~Number of pregnancies and births: 1
~The age of your children, or how far postpartum you are: almost to 40 weeks.