Discomfort is an Understatement (Anonymous)

~Age:22, Pregnancies: 1 (this is my first)

I’m not sure I’ve ever totally been comfortable with my body. I’m 5’1″, and am nearing 195lbs right now. I’m also 37 weeks and 3 days into my pregnancy. Before I got pregnant, I wasn’t the thinnest of girls, weighing in at around 145lbs. This is still heavier than I would have liked. I grew up as a very thin girl, and I was generally around 105lbs at most all through high school, but even then I was uncomfortable with my skin. It started with the stretchmarks on my breasts when I was 13. I’m extremely fair skinned, so when they showed up, (and even now..) they were very dark red/purple. Then it was the constant comments from my own mother about how I was “too pale” and needed to “get out in the sun more.” I also had the unfortunate nickname of “shark bait” for a while because my mother felt my thighs were unnaturally pale.

After high school I began to gain a little weight. A couple pounds here, a few there.. I still managed to stay under 120 for a while. My mother, who had been overweight for most of my childhood life, had lost almost 80lbs by this point, and dropped another 25 or so after her hysterectomy a while later. This new weight loss caused a lot of teasing coming my way. It was always meant as teasing, and I knew that, but you can’t help but to take it a little personally when your own mother tells you that you need to “drop that gut” at least once a week. This just started an endless cycle, which resulted in my gaining more weight.

I struggled to keep myself at 130-135lb, and lost that battle. Weighing around 150lbs at the age of 21, I found out I was pregnant. I couldn’t have been happier. I’ve always wanted to be a mom. It was sudden and unexpected, but my boyfriend and I are happy about this. At least, I was happy until the weight gain started. Every time I step on that scale at my OB’s office, I just want to cringe and run out of the office. And the bigger I got, the harder it’s been for me to feel comfortable in my own skin. I use lotion 1-2 times a day on my tummy, my legs, my breasts, my hips.. And, as you can see, I still developed deep, dark stretchmarks. Even when I was thin, I never judged someone based on their weight. I decided how I felt after I knew more about them as a person, but I feel like hiding away and never going into public ever again. I always feel like someone, anyone who sees me, is judging my size, despite the fact that I’m pregnant. When people take pictures of me, I can’t even stand to look at them. I even have mini meltdowns every single time I take a shower because I have to look at this strange, swollen form of what used to be my body. I’m at a point where I would be happy without a mirror in the entire house. I know weight gain during pregnancy is normal. As are stretchmarks. Somewhere along the way, I guess I started to feel that I’m alone in my struggle.

I know my body will never be the same after having children. It’s just a fact of life, and one I’ve gratefully accepted since my body being a little different is a small price for a beautiful, healthy child. I just wish I knew where to start in terms of accepting my body as it is right now. Discomfort is an understatement for me. I loathe seeing my own body in the mirror. And sometimes I’m afraid that feeling will never go away.

Everyone Tells Me I Look Fine… NOT (Christina)

Age:23
Pregnancies/Births: 1 pregnancy 1 birth
Childs Age: 14 months

Ok so I was 196lbs in March of 2010. I went on weight watchers and got down to 160lbs. June 8th,2010 I stopped weight watchers and my doctor said I had gotten pregnant that first week of June. So long story short, nine months later, at 6:15 pm I delivered my first born. I delivered at 196. How ironic! Anywho, I am now 160 lbs again but I dont feel the same. My husband says that I look great. I dont think so.

I began purging around 17. Stopped for a couple years and then picked up around 6 months PP to try to drop a few extra pounds. I just cant get there. So its off and on now.

Before my son, I had a navel piercing. After I gave birth it stretched out and now looks kind of funny. My breasts sag and I really dont like that. As far as stretchmarks, I got a few more than I already had on my sides, and my stomach ones are centralized around my navel. So although I didnt make out too bad, Im still not 100% comfortable in my “new” skin. Everyone tells me that “I’m a tiger (a mother) that has earned her stripes”. Its an empowering quote but then I look in the mirror. I want to lose 10-15 more pounds.

I would ultimately like to have another kid but when I look in the mirror I am not sure. I am afraid of the effects it will have on my body. Hubby says he loved me at 196, and loves me at 160. But I dont love myself enough yet. I feel like sometimes I am all over the place with my emotions. Just hope I can get a grip. Im tired of everyone telling me that I am trying to get to small. I know where I want to be, and if I cant get there then I will never be happy. The pics are at 39 weeks and now.

Ashamed and Unsatisfied (Kristen)

age 20, one pregnancy, one birth, little girl, 7 months postpartum

I carried a 100% healthy little girl a little over seven months ago. She was born 1 day after her due date, September 15, 2011. She weighed 8 pounds 12 ounces. I have never been the skinniest girl, nor will I ever be. I’m the average size 14 girl, until I got pregnant. I am 20 years old, a stay at home mom, a military wife, I have all that I could ever want, and feel ashamed that I could not like my body as much as I do. I have always tried to be active and eat healthy, but no matter how hard I have tried, it’s hard for me to lose the baby weight, the bigger thighs and the ‘love handles’. Every day, as I slip my clothes on, I wonder, “why can’t this just go away?” Then, as I walk down the hallway to grab my daughter from her crib, I remember why I look this way. I carried a beautiful little girl. This girl completes me in ways that I never thought could be. If I have anything to still learn, is to love my body. There are days where I could just cry and wear sweat pants all day, and there are those days that I think to myself, bring on the world. It is a battle, and I am proud to wear my battle scars all over my belly.

Pictures as followed
#1. 40 weeks pregnant
#2 40 weeks pregnant
#3 Zoe Jayne the day she was born
#4 Zoe at current age (7 months)
#5 7 months postpartum body

I closed my kanga in the oven door (Britne)

Age-26
1 pregnancy, 1 birth, Zoey, age 16 months.
Photos: 1- 15 weeks pregnant, 2. 40 weeks pregnant, 3. Kanga!! (16 months after birth)

After being told I would never have a child (due to PCOS) I did the impossible; I conceived naturally and quite by surprise. Now, my bright and beautiful 16-month-old daughter lives up to her name, Zoey, meaning life. I have never, EVER, been so entertained since having a child. Of course, having a child brought on the all the “joys” of a life-changing event. Including, but not limited to the pregnancy acne, hair growth, mood swings, pain of a c-section, and of course the beloved kangaroo sack of hanging skin that seems to drape ever-so-gracefully over my crooked c-section scar.

A few days ago, I was cooking dinner. Which I happen to do quite frequently since my husband likes to eat, and I mean EAT. Well, this particular night, my daughter was doing the whole hangy/pully off the clothes thing on my leg and I gently pushed her over a bit. Well she got mad and grabbed the bar that runs across the oven door and pulled the oven open. Well, me being me, I just pushed her back and went to close the oven door while turning off a burner at the same time. Lo and behold, my dang kanga belly got pinched when I leaned up and over to the burner controls, and I mean a good gob of flesh that was pinched, while shutting the door. I nervously yanked my Kanga out of the oven and quickly looked to see if my hubby had saw what had happened. Thankfully, he was too engrossed with his NHL Stanley Cup Finals. Ive come to terms with bad-ole-Kanga, learning what underwear “holds” Kanga in, and let me tell you it is not any Victoria’s Secret thongs anymore. In fact, my hubby was folding clothes and held up a pair of full-butt panties and exclaimed “wow, hun, are these yours?” I said “Of course not, they are Megs.” Meg is a friend of mine that visits and who leaves clothes at my home since she lives a bit away. The coolest part of Kanga (lol), is when my daughter finds rolls of lipstick or markers that she should not have and brings them to “show” me and I quickly hide them underneath Kanga/in the fold of my leg because she has figured out the whole behind-the-back thing.

On another note, my daughter is obsessed with bellybuttons, and frequently pulls up her shirt in stores to show people her bellybutton much to my mortification and then wants you to pull your shirt up and show her your bellybutton. Well, of course I play this game at home, but the sad part is with all the extra skin from Kanga, my daughters little finger just kept going and going into the space where my bellybutton is. For some reason, pregnancy has made my bellybutton hole deeper, or maybe its just the extra skin folding into itself. So instead, we play “find Daddy’s bellybutton and Mommy’s ear.” My husband is naturally thin, although Zoey will not touch his tummy for some reason (although his tummy is a bit hairy, so think it is rather scary to her.) Not only does she want to look at your bellybutton, but she also wants to blow on your tummy and make the gassy noise. I’m all game for that, but when she did this to the inside of my leg I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Its bad enough that my daughter thought my leg was my stomach.

For sums, I wouldn’t trade being a Mommy for anything. I look at my ultra-thin/sexy/successful neighbor and sometimes I am jealous. Jealous of her freedom, good looks, ability to get more sleep than I do, and probably most of all for being a little selfish and putting herself first. We throw ourselves away when we become a Mommy, I am just learning how to dig myself out of the dumpster and recycle myself. Ive lost about 15 pounds now, and I am exercising daily. I no longer look at Kanga and feel disgust, I look and I see LIFE, my ZOEY.

Mother of One (Anonymous)

Age 21; Pregnancies 1; Births 1. I had to have my son by c-section after 16 1/2 hours of labor and never dialating past 1 cm. I was 18 when I become pregnant with my son and 19 when I had him. He is about a year and a half now and he is my everything. My pregnancy was a fairly normal, smooth sailing one. Besides going over my due date by 4 days and being induced. I was 120 pounds and in VERY good shape when I become pregnant, I didn’t recieve stretch marks until about 37 weeks and the were on the bottom of my stomach and on my sides. After having my son all those stretch marks came up and were everywhere! I have them on my inner thighs, butt, breasts and of course my stomach. I was very ashamed about my body for a long time, I didn’t even want my fiance to see me with clothes off. But one day he just sat me down and told me that there was no reason to hide, he loved me for me and my stretch marks didn’t bother him. This summer I have decided to wear a bikini again, I am very nervous but I am not ashamed anymore. I wish I could go back to my pre-pregnancy body but I have this one b/c of my amazing little boy and I wouldn’t trade that for anything! The picture is my stomach now.

Learning Acceptance (Anonymous)

Pregnancies/Children: 1
7 weeks Postpartum

Growing up I had self esteem issues and I struggled with an eating disorder up until I found out I was pregnant. When I found out I was pregnant everything changed, I knew I needed to care for myself for my child. My mother didn’t do a very good job teaching us to love ourselves as we were because she was always dieting and getting plastic surgeries (even though she is/was already thin and beautiful) I gained 52 pounds during my pregnancy and so far at 7 weeks postpartum I have lost 31. My husband thinks I am beautiful and I am learning to love myself as well. We want to have another child, hopefully a girl this time (we have a boy) and I want my children to grow up knowing they are beautiful as they are. The first picture is me 6 weeks pregnant. The rest are now at 7 weeks postpartum. I have stretch marks everywhere and a loose belly. My boobs got huge and saggy, I am breastfeeding and no matter how hard I try to increase supply in the left side, my right breast is still 2 cup sizes bigger. These bodily changes are what brought me to my beautiful baby boy and I wouldn’t change it for anything.

I Want My Body Back (Anonymous)

~Age: 22
~Number of pregnancies and births: 1/1
~The age of your children, or how far postpartum you are: 5.5 month old ds/5.5 months pp

As long as I can remember, I have struggled with body image issues. All throughout my school years, I was always the big/fat/chunky/chubby/amazon woman or what have you. I was 5’9″ and 210 at my heaviest. I have also struggled with anxiety and depression for most of my life. When I was 19, I went on a one month food cleanse/detox per my naturopath and 5 months later, I was down 70 pounds. I was now 5’10” and 140-145 and felt and looked amazing, however at the time I still felt self conscious. I look back at pictures of what I used to look like and I just want to kick myself for wasting all that time hating a gorgeous person… Fast forward to November 10, 2011, I was 21 years old and via 3 week early induction and then emergency c-section due to pre eclampsia (at one point I gained over 20 pounds in one week from fluid), my son was born. He is my WORLD and has changed my mind and heart for the better… however, he also changed my body, completely and drastically. Due to stress, pre eclampsia and laziness, I gained over 100 pounds throughout my pregnancy. I stopped looking at the scale at the doctor’s office but I am now almost 6 months pp and 220 pounds, 80 pounds overweight. I don’t even feel like myself anymore, I can’t even look at myself in the mirror without feeling immense pain and grief. I don’t want to wear maternity jeans and sweatpants and huge tshirts all the time, I feel like a big bum and it doesn’t help my depression. I went from a size 3/5 jeans to not even being able to wear a 14; size small/medium shirts to large/xlarge. I have shopped in the plus sizes for the first time in my life. I am exclusively breastfeeding and not losing any weight! I’m even eating healthy, gluten/wheat/dairy free for my son. I just want to love myself for what I look like now. I don’t want to be worried that I’ll never find a man to love me. I want to feel comfortable in clothes and be a great positive example for my son. I just don’t want to be in pain when I think about my body. I haven’t even seen any other mom with stretch marks like mine, or who had the weight gain I had. I wouldn’t want to take anything back though, my baby boy is my entire world, I can’t imagine ever living without him and he completes me. Even though I feel ugly on the outside, I am a changed person on the inside. I love my mind now, and that has to count for something.

1. me at my lowest/healthiest weight
2. 17 weeks pregnant
3. 37 weeks pregnant
4. my beautiful son (5 months old)
5. 5.5 months pp front view
6. 5.5 months side view
7. me now at 220 pounds.

No bikini for me… (MotherOfOne)

This site is so wonderful! A big thanks to the creator.. These stories have made me feel a lot better about my situation.. Knowing I’m not alone.
These photos are 11 months postpartum. I got pregnant with my first, a beautiful baby boy, at age 21. Being young, I assumed my body would bounce right back to it’s 105-110lb. figure with no effort on my part. I gained 40lbs. during my pregnancy and now, 11 months later — I am still about 10lbs. over my ideal weight and struggling with this and the belly flab/stretch marks. I am still breast feeding and plan to AT LEAST for another month. I got complimented in the first few months postpartum on how my tummy went flat so quickly–but to me it still wasn’t as it should be. These last 10lbs. I can’t seem to shake off… Any one think it may be from breast feeding? Will it be easier to lose once I wean??
Summer is approaching and I cannot see myself flaunting a bikini at the beach this year… Or ever again for that matter….

The Stranger in the Mirror (Miserable)

Before my first pregnancy in 2008 I was relatively slim: 9 stone 7 lbs ( 133 pounds in American money!) although I don’t think I carried it well as I’m short: 5′ 3″, and I’ve always had a big bottom and wide hips, but even so I was in fairly good shape. I was a lot slimmer before 2008, I’d had one of those years and put on about half a stone so I was already on the path to self-loathing. But when I became pregnant I really wasn’t concerned with putting on weight and for the first time in many years I didn’t bother about calorie counting and ate what I wanted when i wanted, but never for two! Oh OK, I ate for about 10 when I went on holiday to Barbados halfway through my pregnancy but otherwise I ate properly some days, a bit OTT others. While I knew I would have to lose a few pounds after giving birth I was enjoying the fact that I didn’t need to starve myself and that I felt free of the bulimia/weight on/weight off cycle I’d been in during my twenties. I was very excited about the impending birth of my son.

At 4 months’ pregnant I BALLOONED overnight. And it didn’t stop; I even had people stop me in the street and ask if I was expecting twins and at 16 weeks pregnant when flying from Italy, where I lived, to the UK I was asked for my doctor’s letter to say I could fly (a letter which, in Europe, we don’t have to have until 28 weeks pregnant) and in one restaurant that we frequented regularly in Italy the waitress was aghast when she saw me at around 6 months pregnant and said (in Italian) “My God how much weight have you put on? You must have put on 40 kilos, my daughter only put on 11 kilos in her whole pregnancy. You English eat far too much!” I left immediately in tears. After 7 and half months I didn’t leave the house other than to pop downstairs to the local greengrocer for some fruit. It was completely crushing to have people stare at me, to see my reflection in shop windows, to be asked how many were in there, to be told I was fat. I was but I didn’t want to be told so. The latter part of my pregnancy was completely ruined and, looking back, I think depression had started to set in even then. It didn’t help that my stepdad (who had brought me up from age 5) was dying of Cancer and my mum was so engrossed in her caring role that she virtually ignored my pregnancy. We had to have our son in the UK (for reasons of nationality) so at 8 and a half months pregnant we got the sleeper train to the UK. We booked a holiday cottage and waited. And waited. And waited a bit more. I refused to be induced and our baby was born 21 days overdue! I was devastated to end up with an emergency caesarean (I’m English! This is how we spell it!) due to our baby turning back-to-back, placenta abrupting and a few other things (which i don’t care to remember), I had been staunchly against caesareans throughout my pregnancy and to this day I am heartbroken that I didn’t get the natural birth I wanted. yes, I know the most important thing was a healthy baby, I really do, but I still mourn not having a normal delivery. I feel denied my womanly right.

I didn’t get to hold our baby for an hour and 20 minutes after the birth – not because there was anything wrong, not because I’d had a general (I hadn’t), simply because the midwife handed him to my partner without thinking and forgot to say that I could hold him (we thought that perhaps I wasn’t allowed to in the operating theatre). When we got to the recovery room I asked to hold him. I’ll never forget how he looked at me – it wasn’t the look of recognition that so many women talk about, it wasn’t love, I felt like he was saying ‘Oh no, I’ve got YOU!” From that day to this he’s always been Daddy’s boy. I think the postnatal depression started in earnest the next day. Don’t get me wrong, I adore my son, but it wasn’t a happy time after the birth – for a long time. While in hospital I didn’t worry about my enormous belly that still looked at least 6 months pregnant, even when my dad came to see me and said sarcastically, “You’ve got a lovely figure now, haven’t you?!” (tact, diplomacy, sensitivity – not his strong points). That started about a week later.

During pregnancy no. 1 I put on 70 pounds.

I breastfed exclusively for 6 months and didn’t lose a single pound (other than the 14 I lost giving birth and losing water immediately after). My stepdad died when my son was 7 months old and I lost 14 pounds then. A year later I lost 7 pounds then went to New Zealand to visit relatives and put it back on (cakes galore made by my partner’s mum). I’d just started to lose again when I became pregnant with no.2 and, just as before, bang! I looked 6 months pregnant at 6 weeks. I had recently joined the gym on a special programme via the doctor but I had such terrible morning sickness and was so uncomfortable with heartburn (which started at 6 weeks and continued to 39 weeks, not a day’s let up) and my general size that I gave up at 3 months pregnant. At 4 months pregnant, mid October 2010, I was asked by the checkout operator at the supermarket if I would be having a Christmas baby. When I told him “No, a Spring baby” he almost fell on the floor. We had moved back to the Uk by this time and I have to say that the comments about my size were fewer than they had been in Italy. But still I felt not unlike Jabba the Hut. This time I had prenatal depression and it was awful, I really struggled to get through it and had counselling all through the pregnancy. Happily, however, the day son no. 2 was born (caesarean again after 38 and a half weeks of planning a VBAC I was forced to change my mind as baby was transverse and had been all the way through the pregnancy that they could tell) it lifted, just melted away. This time, I held my baby almost as he was born (a very understanding surgeon who agreed to many non-routine things for me) and he looked at me with love.

During pregnancy no. 2 I put on 42 pounds. Considerably better than no.1 but remember I hadn’t lost much after no.1 so I ended up 14 pounds heavier than I had done at the end of pregnancy no.1. But this time I lost 28 pounds within a month of giving birth, then slowly lost another 7 over the next 6 months, then stopped. Again I breastfed exclusively for 6 months and now my son is 12 months I still feed him myself twice a day. But I have lost no more weight. I admit I comfort eat. And eat. And loathe. And eat and then I do it all again, it goes on in a vicious cycle. I haven’t seen my pubic hair for 4 years now due to the enormous overhanging lump of lard around my middle – and I used to have quite a flat stomach, proudly so. I am 4 dress sizes bigger than I used to be pre-children. I have a proper double chin that Tevye would proud to see on Golde. I have 3 huge boxes of beautiful, some expensive, clothes that I cannot wear and slump around in supermarket threads which are cheap in the hope that soon I will be able to get my real clothes out again. I avoid some old friends who want to see me after living abroad for many years because I’m so embarrassed about how I look compared to when they last saw me and I was slim. Every couple of months I manage to find some motivation and do some exercise and start a diet but when I lose only 3 or 4 pounds in a month or so I lose heart and binge on, well anything really. Half the problem with exercise is that the overhang really hurts if I do much more than a brisk walk – it literally slaps me on the upper thighs and swings from side to side.

I can barely look at myself in the mirror, every single bit of me looks like someone else. And I don’t like her.

Age 38

Picture 1 shows me at 8 weeks pregnant, first pregnancy 2008
Pic 2 Approx 18 weeks
Pic 3 Approx 38 weeks
Pic 4 Today, 21st April 2012 (I didn’t take any pics of myself during pregnancy no. 2)

I am a woman reclaiming my body. (Anonymous)

Aged 33. 1 beautiful six year old boy. 1 plus size single mum.

What a fantastic website, have just taken a look and I love that women are taking the chance to say ‘hello, this is what real women look like’ and having their joy and pain witnessed.

Some women come through pregnancy and childbirth without any scars or wounds at all, but I wasn’t one of them. I was already vastly overweight and not in a place where I liked anything about my body, when I found out that I was pregnant. My partner had left me before I even found out I was pregnant, so was entering into motherhood totally alone. During childbirth I lost a lot of blood, and had to have a transfusion, and my son was delivered by ventouse, and I sustained a third degree tear. My body was already wrecked before pregnancy so I had no loss to grieve over.

Becoming a mum 6 years ago has changed my life, I knew that to give my son the best of me, I had to go on a journey of healing. I had counselling and therapy, to try and get to the bottom of some of my issues that keep in enslaved to food, and I am currently training to be a counsellor. I have been in long term therapy for a couple of years now and I am loving it. I am loving the journey, and I am loving the person that I am becoming, and I am learning to love me.

The added weight gained by pregnancy means that I am now about 10 stone overweight, I have stretch marks and saggy boobs, and marks under my breasts where skin rubs on skin, it is by no means pleasant. I would not be able to post a photo on here at the moment. It’s a step too far – but soon I hope I’m on my way.

I have been single since I found out I was pregnant, and that is working out great for me, I am learning for the first time what it means to be a woman, and what it means to be in a relationship with myself.

Two final things. I found great comfort and humour in the book ‘how to be a woman’ by Caitlin Moran, we are not alone in our body issues.

And lastly I wept when I read this piece of writing which I share with you in the hope that you too might print it out and enter into a vow with yourself every day.

I am a woman reclaiming my body…. (author unknown)

My body, at last, I claim you! I live here! I am not some discarnate spirit using just any vehicle to get around.
I live in the full, round, soft, juicy, wet, strong, agile, capable, spirit filled, nurturing, graceful, flowing, comforting,
lovely smooth, dancing, singing, playing, working, praying body of a woman!
For so many years I rejected my body because it isn’t perfect according to the standards of my culture.
I have been unfaithful to it, letting others opinions turn me against it, allowing others to use it without love, without tenderness.
Because I myself rejected my body, I didn’t protect it, didn’t demand that it be treated like the precious gift that it is.
My body, the temple of my soul, deserves better from me.
I reclaim this body. I re-claim these eyes and their vision; this mouth and its words; these arms and legs and their hugging and dancing.
I re-claim these breasts and their magnificent fullness; I re-claim these wide, round hips and strong fleshy thighs and their walking on earth.
I re-claim this vagina and all its secret folds and this womb and its bleeding. I re-claim all of my body parts, named and unnamed.
This body is a miracle; it is the first gift of the Creator to me – my birthday present.
I take this body to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, to honor, love, and cherish until death do us part. I am a woman reclaiming my body!

I hope I will be back to post my photo soon.