Mom over 30

Breastfeeding Breasts and Mommy Belly (Anonymous)

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

My name is Susan I am 32, and have two babies. My daughter is 2 and my son is 10 months. I nursed my daughter for 12 months and I am currently nursing my 10 month old. They were both full term and healthy natural births. Ive always been thin. Iam petite, just 115lbs and 5’3″. I gained 25 lbs with both babies and lost all the baby weight. Even though I am my prepregnancy weight I am definitely softer, not as toned and more veiny. I don’t mind my new body. I had small perky 32b breasts, now they are 34b. In this photo I just nursed my son on the right side so you can see its a bit smaller. My left one is always been bigger and it’s engorged in that side. I just returned from work and hadn’t pumped in 9 hours. My breasts are bigger but when I wean the babe in two months they will probably go down.

My Battle Scars – Otherwise Known as My Belly (Anonymous)

Bonnie (SOAM) 5+ Years Postpartum, Belly, Mom over 30, Postpartum, Submissions, Third Pregnancy 14 Comments

I am a 37 year old mother of 3 (ages 15, 9 & 7 yrs old). Lets just say I was done family planning by the time I was 30 yrs old.

I was always a fit person before having children, working out 3x a week and was a former gymnast and track star. But that all changed once I started to have children. My son was born when I was just 22 years old. I gained 55lbs with him, considering I used to be a size 4…that was devastating. But I loved being pregnant, however I retained a lot of water. After he was born it took me over a year to get back down to a size 6. Which I was more than happy about.

Then came my daughter 6 years later, followed by my youngest in which they were only 18 months apart. And again it was hard work to lose the weight and to get to where I am now.

I have over 10lbs to lose but I don’t want to be a size 0…I’m voluptuous …and I don’t mind. I have a personal trainer in which he tells me I have more muscle than fat and not to beat myself up too much. So in the meantime, I am working very hard to get rid of my saggy belly and to firm up, I will not consider surgery, besides I’m not a celebrity no one will really care after all…but I’m doing this for me!

My husband has been very supportive and showers me with compliments all the time, we are very much still in love and have been married for 12 years now. The reason why I am posting this is because my husband thinks I’m beautiful and loves my body despite my stretch marks (which have faded) but he doesn’t mind my saggy belly either, I told him he must be crazy because I hate my body.

When going on vacations I was very self conscience and would only wear a tankini’s or a one piece suit (which I hate!) But our next trip coming up is to Cancun and I got the courage to buy a bikini and show off my marks! I decided that as long as my husband didn’t care, why should I right? After all I’m happily married with wonderful children right? So I went shopping with the hubby and he bought me a Marc Jacobs bikini! I still can’t believe I bought it considering the price…I wanted my body to look decent before I spent that kind of $ on a bikini but my hubby was encouraging and voila…I’m showing you my pic!

I even asked my youngest girls how I looked in it (and since children are very honest) they said “you look good mommy!” and that put a smile on my face! So for those who are depressed about the saggy skin or the stretch marks after having children, I say go for it and buy that bikini! After all, I think to myself every line … every bulge was so worth it!

Thanks for reading my story!

8 months pregnant with second daughter. (Proudmama)

Bonnie (SOAM) Belly, Mom over 30, Pregnant, Second Pregnancy, Submissions, Update 1 Comment

Previous posts here, here and here.

Age: 32
Number of pregnancies: Second pregnancy, 33 weeks along at time of writing this. First child is 27 months.

The last time I updated, I had just found out I was pregnant with baby #2. Now I am thrilled to say that I’m 33 weeks along with my second daughter. As you’ll see, I’ve been blessed with another big beautiful belly. Just like with my first daughter, I have no stretch marks (so far) and I’m carrying all in front of me. Asides from the “look” of it though, it’s actually been a very different pregnancy . This time around, I’ve had it pretty tough. I’ve had a lot of morning sickness (which I didn’t have the first time) and I’ve been dealing with a bad case of SPD (symphysis pubis dysunction) which has kept from being as active as I would have liked. My anemia has gotten a lot worse and I’ve found out that my body doesn’t absorb Vitamin B12(not pregnancy related) and I’ll have to get injections for the rest of my life. Throw in a 2 year old to take care of and a home daycare to run, and I’ve been pretty tired and in a lot of pain.

But even though I’m exhausted and ready for this pregnancy to be over, I’m not losing sight of how fortunate I am to have been giving the chance to experience motherhood a second time and I’m especially excited to have been given another precious baby girl. I’ve tried to really enjoy every single moment and be in tuned with the changes in my body despite everything because we don’t plan on having any more children. I honestly haven’t given too much thoughts on my postpartum body, I figure I’ll have enough time to worry about that later. For the moment being, I just want to cherish my baby’s healthy movements and enjoy my last weeks of being a mother of one before chaos sets in. :) All I know is that having to “run” after kids all day must have kept me somewhat in shape because I’ve only gained 17 pounds so far which I think is pretty good. Hopefully I’ll manage to stay under 25 pounds.

I still read your entries and constantly get inspired and touched by them and I promise I’ll keep you posted when this little one is born. Cheers mamas!

The pictures were taken at 33 weeks. Hard to imagine I’ll get even bigger.

4 Babies in 3 Years (Anonymous)

Bonnie (SOAM) Belly, Breasts, Mom over 30, Postpartum, Submissions, Third Pregnancy, Twins 12 Comments

Hi,
I’m 35, mother of 4 beautiful children.
My PP weight was in 110-120 range. My first – twin pregnancy my weight went up to 198 lb, I went back to 115 lb 9 month after.
18 after the twins I’ve had my third beautiful baby and my weight was up to 170 lb. Again I lost all extra weight by the 9th month after the delivery.
Two years later I’ve had my fourth baby and my weight went up to 165lb. I’ve managed to lose 35 lb, but the rest is still with me.
I feel as if I had been more athletic I could get in the better shape, but my flabby belly will always stay with me and I hate it.
My husband is being very supportive and still very attracted to me sexually which means a lot. In general I feel very proud of my children, my husband and myself. Right clothes, nice hair, lipstick and wedges – and carry myself like a model, makes people turn their heads whenever I get out with all of my babies who are 5,5,4 and 2 now and I feel good. Carry yourself tall, girls, and your bellies will look flatter and your breasts fill sit higher and everyone will see how gorgeous you really are.

B/G Twins, 4 1/2 Months Postpartum (Anonymous)

Bonnie (SOAM) Belly, Cesarean, Mom over 30, Postpartum, Second Pregnancy, Submissions, Twins 19 Comments

2 pregnancies
2 c-sections
3 kids
2 1/2 yr old girl
4 1/2 month B/G twins
My age: 30

I am 30 years old. I had my first daughter at age 27. She was 8 1/2 lbs, born by c-section due to my hips being narrow and the risk of her getting stuck. I chose the csection. She was the light of my life and in the first few months I couldnt bear to be apart from her longer than 20 minutes or I felt panicky. I hated my body. I hated the flab. My breasts looked decent still, but that was it. I gained 55 lbs and it took a year to lose it all, but my belly was still flabby. Shortly after she turned 2, we started trying for another baby. I was having bleeding for 23 days every month due to low progesterone. We fixed that problem and 9 long months later (i was nervous it would never happen), we got pregnant with twins. This was what I always wanted. Lots of kids, close together and B/G twins! I was ecstatic. I had them at 37 wks, 2 days by c-section due to my boy’s cord presenting and I was 1 cm dilated, they didn’t want to risk me going into labor. The twins were born 6 lbs 14 oz, 20 in and 6 lbs 13 oz, 19 3/4 in. Healthy. No NICU. Came home with me. I gained 65 lbs. I’ve lost 47 lbs now. I’m hideous. Im just 5’1″. And I still get asked if I’m pregnant multiple times a day, regardless of if I have the three kids with me! I have diastasis recti. Can’t do ab work. I’m helpless and in the prison of this body. Friends say, “ur amazing! U manage all 3 kids and u had 3 big, healthy babies! U carried twins to term!” Yada yada yada. Well I didn’t do that. God did. It’s all biological. It just happened. I didn’t do anything. I have 2 daughters and I desperately do not want them to feel like I feel. I want them to love their bodies. The pressure of setting this example is hard. I can’t get past it. I get nauseous when I think about getting dressed. I avoid social situations requiring me to wear more than a sweatsuit. I can’t stand my reflection. My husband says he thinks I’m hot, but in my mind, he has to brainwash himself to think that because he is married to me. Stuck with me. That fat frump with nasty frizzy hair, saggy boobs, and a permanently pregnant belly. I have to wear a belly band with sweatpants to even look decent enough to leave the house. I just can’t get past this. It is ruining my life. How can therapy make me like my reflection? It can’t. I feel helpless. Like a prisoner. And I hate I feel like this. I have thought about what would happen if I used scissors to cut my belly off. I should break my finger to punish me for being fat. I know these are crazy thoughts which is why i would never act on them, but that doesn’t stop them from entering my head. I’ve never thought about hurting my children or anything. They are the only thing that brings me happiness. Without them, I’m pointless. I’m not me. I dont know who I am…but I hate the person in the mirror. The preg pix r 2 wks b/f twins were born

Miscarriage after giving my son up for adoption 20 years ago. (Anonymous)

Bonnie (SOAM) Adoption, Belly, Breasts, Child Loss, Mom over 30, Postpartum, Submissions, Update 17 Comments

I am a 37 year old mother I have a son whom I gave up for adoption at the age of 16 giving him a better life. Struggling with the thought of if I did the right thing all those years fighting suicide and many heartaches including cancer I managed to happily become pregnant last year and today would have been my babies due date. I was only 7w eeks along when I found out I was pregnant never missed a period, nothing I was so so excited when I finally heard the news I was having a baby the excitement was short lived I delivered a baby in my bathtub 2 weeks later with what I thought was just a kidney stone pain. It was the most excruciating heartbreaking time of my life. I had been cramping all day long but knew already I had a kidney stone something not rare for me. I was in so much pain I decided to get in the bath. Everything happened so fast I did not even have time to drive the 40 min from my small rural town to the city where the hospital was. When I entered the bath I had the most severe pain and started noticing small amount of blood my husband got me out and we went to research it on the computer, and called the dr. I could not find anything that truly explained what a miscarriage felt like what it looked like. My doctor called us back about 20 min later by this time I was already back in the bath trying to relieve the pain. I minutes later had a severe contraction which I now know was the pain and delivered my 9 week old baby.

We called our pastor and he came over and went to the hospital with us. I was bleeding so intensely and was in shock he and my husband boxed our lil baby up I was told by a cruel nurse to just flush it like it was a gold fish or something . We took it to the hospital with us and since it was considered a fetus there was nothing they could do at the hospital I was told I could take my baby and bury it at home in my flower garden or flush it or they could dispose of it. I was like really? How cruel its my baby. I chose to take it home and we buried it under a favorite tree with our pastor.

I am only writing this hoping I can be of help with someone hurting and or wanting to know what a miscarriage feels like . What a baby looks like I was told by the nurses at that size many do not even see their baby. They usually just pass it in the toilet. I however want others to know that I feel your pain and grieve with you. Your baby is your baby the minute you conceive. At 9 weeks I could make out his/her lil fingers , a lil mouth and even a nose. My body is not attractive anymore I received stretch marks when I was 16 with my son. I feel so ugly on the outside even at 37. I thought when I was in my 20s I would just get used to them and well they would fade , they have but are still there and I have a constant reminder that I gave someone a gift more precious than one could imagine.

Attached are 3 photos one of my miscarried baby last year and 2 of me 20 years after giving birth to my son stretch marks and all

Updated here.

5 Years Later (Dolly)

Bonnie (SOAM) Child Loss, Four or More Pregnancies, Mom over 30, No Photos (Story Only), Submissions, Update 2 Comments

It has been 5 years since the worst day of my life. I lost my daughter . My children at home ( then 3 and 4) were never the same. Since that day I had 2 miscarriages. When I found out I was pregnant again my youngest , Jacob (then 7) would ask every day, “mom do you think this baby will come home with us?” I had to believe, I had to trust and I had to allow him to heal. My oldest, Sarah, was not as worried, (then 8) or so it seemed. She never asked, it was not until the baby was born that she seemed to release the fears. She cried and hugged her new sister and told me how she was so afraid to think that this baby may not breath. I never told them I felt that way too. I never told them that I would do kick counts several times a day, that I would cry and talk to her in my womb. I never told them that I had bad dreams.

My greatest fear besides death was that I would call my new daughter Chelsea (her sister in Heaven). I did and often .

With prayer and as Savanna ( born 6-4-11) became part of my daily life, I stopped calling her Chelsea.

Today I am happy to say that Savanna is dearly loved for herself, that my children no longer fear loosing her and that we all cherish her.

Thank you Chelsea, your death made me see so much more clearly how sweet every breath is, how wonderful every smile and how precious every moment is with ALL my children. You served a great calling for such a little person.

We all love you and Savanna will hear about you when she is older.

I love you my sweet baby.

You can read more of my story with my original post and update. And here is her web page.

Thank you for letting me share my story… again

I am currently 40 , I have 3 children 9, 8, and 6 months
I have had 1 stilbirth and 2 miscarriages.

Postpartum Psychosis Survivor (Pinay Mom NYC)

Bonnie (SOAM) Asian, Before Pregnancy, Belly, First Pregnancy, Mom over 30, Postpartum, Postpartum Psychosis, PPD - Postpartum Depression, Pregnant, Suicide or suicidal thoughts 11 Comments

Hearing things that weren’t there was bad; keeping silent about it was worse.

For months after my daughter was born via C-section, I felt miserable and pathetic. I had been so independent prior to giving birth at 31; then I saw myself as this needy, ugly thing, financially dependent on a husband who was suffering through his own depression. I feared he didn’t love me. With my family 3000 miles away, I watched the laundry and dishes pile up. Worst of all, I heard things.

Not voices, per se, but laughter–a quiet, but biting mocking laughter that seemed to arise whenever I was tired, alone, and trying to breastfeed my baby. I also sensed a hand pressing down on top of my head, as if trying to break in through my skull. I’d scream, waking my baby and alerting my husband to something terribly wrong. Eventually, I told him. A neuroscientist by training, he was familiar with what was happening to me and assured me that I wasn’t “crazy.” I did some internet research and found that I was experiencing post-partum psychosis. Well, great, I thought. Now let me get back to adjusting to motherhood, thank you very much.

Only the adjustment to this new role, this new body–this new life–still shook the very core of my sanity. And I kept trudging through, silently. I loved my daughter. I hated my life.

When she was 10 months old, I tried to kill myself using the unused painkiller meds prescribed for me after my C-section. A fight with my husband triggered off what I had been quietly plotting to do for months. I swallowed four pills before he wrested the remaining meds out of my hand and flushed them down the toilet. We talked throughout the night. I decided to seek professional help. I decided to live.

Searching for a care-provider that took my insurance was humiliating. The bureaucratic run-around and telephone-tag belittled my condition, making me feel even more guilt and shame for my experience. Did no one realize that post-partum depression with psychosis required immediate medical attention? I went to the one place that could definitely spot a life-threatening condition when they saw one. I checked into the ER with a simple note: I am going to kill myself. That was the beginning.

It’s been 9 months since I voluntarily committed myself for a three-day stay as a psychiatric patient in the very same hospital in which I had given birth. 9 months of reflecting, re-prioritzing, and cleaning-up. 9 months of getting to know my daughter and getting re-acquainted with my husband and myself. The last 40 weeks haven’t always been easy. But they’ve helped me to acknowledge and accept my husband’s love, and to nurture my family, my career and my needs–no matter how difficult. I love my daughter. I love my life.

I urge everyone out there to question why the physical and psychological toll of motherhood should bring about so much shame, so much silence. It needn’t be this way. Stigma and silencing are often just symptoms of ignorance. Most people don’t recognize that we mothers can love and adore our children and still feel intense pain transitioning into our new lives. Transition can be brutal. But what hurt me and my family more was keeping quiet about it until it was almost too late. Who benefits from maintaining the stigma–the ignorance–around post-partum psychosis? What false ideas of motherhood does this stigma uphold? If people took seriously the personal and medical havoc brought on by motherhood, imagine how we might change maternity policies, healthcare, career-planning—our idea of womanhood, itself.

My daughter is napping in my arms as I write this. Soon she will wake, and the silence will be over. I can only hope.

Thank you for reading.

pic 1: Me a couple months before my 30th birthday, and about 8 months before getting pregnant.
pic 2: A week before giving birth.
pic 3: I took-up pole-dancing as a way to reclaim my body. Here I am attempting a (flawed) outside leg-hook, 15 months post-partum.
pic 4: My little monkey!

~Age: 32
~Number of pregnancies and births: 3 pregnancies, 1 birth
~The age of your children, or how far postpartum you are: 1 daughter, 19 months

Growth (Anonymous)

Bonnie (SOAM) Belly, Breasts, Mom over 30, Postpartum, Second Pregnancy, Submissions, Update 7 Comments

Previous post here.

Age: 32
Number of pregnancies and births: Three pregnancies. Two births.
Number of Children: Two children. Ages 4.5 and 1.5
All photos have been taken 16 months after the birth of my second child.

I feel compelled to post here again because of how the site has grown.
Because of how I have evolved.
Because of how we-as women, as peers, as supporters of one another-have strengthened in mind and numbers.

My home is full of noise and I am full of pride.
My two beautiful children continue to teach me:

To slow down.
To listen.
To breathe.

I continue to tell myself to accept myself.
And I am. I am trying.

This thanksgiving may we all give thanks for the network we have created.
That we are creating.

Be kind to one another.
Fight for one another.
Love one another.

Love our children.
Love our children.
Love our children.

My Angel (Shanna)

Bonnie (SOAM) Abortion/Life after Abortion, Belly, Mom over 30, Postpartum, Submissions, Third Pregnancy 10 Comments

Age: 32
3 pregnancies, 2 Cesareans, 1 Abortion
Children aged 10 & 8

I had my children in 2001 and 2003. Both of my children are boys and they are the best things that have ever happened to me. I was a single mom for the majority of their lives as their Fathers wanted nothing to do with them. Then after many years and being told I couldn’t get pregnant again, I met the man I always dreamed of! After a short 6 months of dating, I found out I was pregnant.He didn’t want kids of his own. After the abortion, I went through a long period of depression and grief. It is still hard at times, but I am working through it. We are still together, which is nothing short of a miracle. I wrote this letter to my lost one in hopes of easing the pain

My Angel,

I have tried to envision you here with me. I have tried to erase your brief, fleeting memory from my mind, heart and soul. I have tried to forget that you ever existed, that you were part of me. I have tried to make my womb forget you as well. I have tried to ignore you. I have tried to change time, to go back in my mind….. To change the life altering and life ending decision that I made.

You are not the only one who suffered because of my actions. I too have suffered, although my suffering is well deserved. A part of me died the moment you were sucked and scraped out of the safety of my womb.

I torture myself every day with my choice, my inability to correct it, the finality of it all. I both comfort and torture myself playing out your almost was life in my dreams. Were you the Daughter I always dreamed of…..? Would you have been my third Son….? What would you have looked like….? Me or him?

It is difficult for me to know that next month you would be celebrating your 1st Birthday. You would be walking by now, Exploring the world around you. I would be watching you in amazement, proud of all you had accomplished in your first year of life. You would fall asleep in my arms, with your chubby little arms wrapped around me. You would be sleeping peacefully while I smelled your hair and felt blessed to have you in my life. My heart would soar when you said your first word and I would brag to everyone how smart you are. I would shed tears the first time you said mama. My heart would break the first time you got hurt and I would feel helpless when ever you got sick. I would put on a brave face and bite back tears every time you got your shots. I would creep into your room at night and make sure you were still breathing and smile if I accidentally woke you up, then I’d rock you back to sleep. I would sing you lullabies when no one could hear me. I would stare at you in awe for I had created you and that is a miracle. I would have been proud to be your mommy.

All that is nice, I know. But I also know that none of that matters. It doesn’t matter what I would have done… All that matters is what I DID do and that I DIDN’T do the ONE thing that I was supposed to do… And that was to protect you. I can say I am sorry every minute for the rest of my life and it would never be enough. On October 5th, 2009 I found out I was pregnant with you. Immediately, my hand caressed my tummy. You had already started to change my body, my breasts were full and my tummy firm at the bottom where you were, safe in my womb. I had a feeling before that day that I was pregnant, but the impossibility of it pushed it from my mind. As I walked to your Daddy’s home, my mind raced with all the possibilities that you would bring. I didn’t know how everything was going to work out, how I would be able to afford you. But, I knew the most important things… I knew that I already loved you, fiercely. I knew that I wanted you, forever. I knew that you were part of me, my body, my heart and my soul… you were mine. I knew that your big brothers would love you and protect you. I knew that I had done it before, raising your older brothers without any help and not much money. Then why did I do it? I was madly in love with your daddy. On one hand, what I did was selfless…. I wanted to make him happy, no matter how it made me feel. On the other hand, my actions were selfish… I was in love and didn’t want to lose him, regardless of what it meant for you and your life. I don’t believe in Heaven, but if there is one, I know that’s where you will be.. A life cut short, so full of promise, a symbol of hope and love, a miracle from my body.

If I could tell you anything it is this…. I am sorry that I treated you as if you were a parasite, a curse. I am sorry that I chose to not have you but chose to have your big brothers, that is wrong. I am sorry that I will never know you as what you were meant to be; my child. I am sorry that I killed you before you had a chance to live. I loved you from the moment that you were known about. I am sorry that I failed you and had you thrown away in a dumpster. I am sorry that you are my dirty little secret. I am sorry that I cannot say that I did what I thought was best for you.

So, as I sit here every day and mourn you… a nameless, faceless child of mine… I must give you a name and a birthday…. You deserve that, at the very least. If you were a girl, I would have named you Nevaeh. If you were a boy, I would have named you whatever your Daddy chose. I can’t say what because it was never discussed. All I have for a birthday is your due date… June 5th 2010.

Love,
Me