I’m 21 in February, I’ve had two boys very close together my eldest is 16 months my youngest is 4 months old. I feel like ill never be pretty again my body is wrecked. I have stretch marks I have a bigger stomach I don’t feel good about being me anymore. I wanted to post here to see what others thought just to see if I’m the only one feeling like this x
My age- 22
Number of pregnancies- 1
Hi I was always very skinny before getting pregnant with my son, I had him nearly a year ago now very quick labour an hour and a half after bleeding a lot and needing to be induced he was born as beautiful as i imagined and weighed 6pound 9ounces. After a few days my stomach was nearly flat again I was so happy as I had been trying so hard to eat properly while pregnant to be sure I didn’t put weight on. But without realising it and not eating no different the next thing I know I have this huge belly and people are constantly asking me when my baby is due, I went to a theme park last week and a man wouldn’t let me on a ride as be said I was pregnant even after I said no he still said are you sure, you look ready to drop! As you can imagine my confidence was gone and I just wanted to go home! I have been out of a friends birthday recently and with an alcoholic drink in my hand somebody said congratulations! It’s really beginning to get me down! I’ve been to the doctors who said I have polycystic ovary syndrome although I didn’t think I had any of the symptoms. It’s like my stomach is constantly bloated and when I sit down it goes to flab, it’s a perfect rounded stomach when I’m standing! Does anybody have any advice for me? How can I loose this I’ve tried everything I exercise daily and eat really well. I even tried the 3 shakes a day with nothing else that didn’t even work! I wouldn’t change having my son for my world as he’s my everything I just wish I could have a nice body and my beautiful son.
Number of pregnancies 3 births 1 age 25
So it’s been almost 2 years since I last posted on here. My son is 2 years old and a few months. Im sure no one will remember me from back then so I will just start from the beginning! I had my son at 23 c section he was 9 lbs 3 ounces. I didn’t gain a whole lot of weight during the pregnancy but my belly was gigantic. My stomach was stretched beyond repair. I’ve been struggling with this everyday since I had him.
Now I am 4 months pregnant with my second baby and I hope to god it doesn’t get worse or that all my hard work won’t be undone because I have put a lot or sweat money and tears into looking as good as I do now which sadly isn’t very good :(
Anyway I will start with a few photos from last year (some will be fully nude)
This is about a year after having him
These were a few months ago
And now from today as I am pregnant
I think I look great with clothes on
I just wish I could feel the same confidence in the bedroom!
And one of me and my son
Even if being a mother hasn’t come naturally to me, I’m thankful that my body was able to grow and bless me with children. They are my reason for living. They are my everything.
Let me start by saying that motherhood isn’t what I thought it would be. When I was growing up, I thought being a good mother was an instinct; I was convinced I’d know the ins and outs of it all, never questioning my own actions and how they affected my children. I thought I would give birth and once my baby arrived, life would continue on as it did before. Nobody warned me that the life you knew before pregnancy and birth ends once your baby is in your arms. Your previous life is no more. YOU are reborn. When I got pregnant with my son, I fussed over everything I ate and drank. I obsessively avoided things in my diet that I thought would harm him. When I delivered him, he was perfect. As he grew and developed, we were told we needed to get him evaluated for his “delays”. He was a late-bloomer for his speech and social skills (and still is, but is coming along). He is now 4, going to preschool, and his speech improves every single day. I’m amazed at the improvements he has made and he is and always will be my favorite little man. He is happy, funny and can always bring a smile to my face. When my son was 2.5, I unexpectedly got pregnant with my daughter. My pregnancy with her was much different. Things in my personal life were going very, very wrong and I was very stressed out and depressed. I wasn’t in a good place, to say the least. My diet sucked. My attitude sucked. My outlook sucked. I really feel like I did my daughter an injustice in this way and I still feel guilt over it. The only thing that kept me going were my son and daughter. As my daughter grew inside of me, her kicks were a constant reminder to me to be strong and forge ahead. When my daughter was born, things got better. And I can honestly say that my daughter saved me. She saved me from my depression. She saved me so I could be a better mother to my son. She saved me from hating myself. I see hope and happiness when I look at her. She’s my reminder of what I could’ve lost and what I gained. When I see my kids together, I see all the things I have to look forward to. Motherhood has been the toughest thing I’ve ever had to do. I constantly second-guess myself. I make myself feel guilty for the things I wish I could do better for my kids. I feel bad when I need a break from them. Mostly, I feel extremely blessed that God has given me such beautiful, amazing children. Motherhood hasn’t come naturally to me. It is a daily struggle of questioning my actions and decisions as a parent. It’s hard. It’s a constant challenge. It’s something I wouldn’t trade for the world. I’m also different now. Being a parent changes you in so many ways. Your priorities are different; you don’t come first anymore, your children do. Your attitude is different. Your opinions change. Things I said I would NEVER do in my early 20’s I’ve now done countless times. I may not be the same, but I never want to be the person I was before kids. I’m better because I’m a mother. I’m forever thankful for them.
~Age: 28
~Number of pregnancies and births: 2 and 2
~The age of your children, or how far postpartum you are: 4 and 16 months
Age: 22
Pregnancies/births:1/1
Other categories: Postpartum, Belly, Belly, Breasts or Body Art, First Pregnancy, PPD
Having been at the hospital a few times the week that I gave birth, when we went in around 11:30 pm concerned about bleeding they took their time.
Apparently, I was dilating, causing blood.
They sent me home a centimetre dilated. They had offered me drugs for the pain, but I was convinced that I could breathe through everything, set on a drug-free, natural birth. We were back at 2 am because I could NOT handle the pain anymore. I could barely stand up to put my shoes on, let alone hop up in the truck without vocalizing the contractions. And again, because I had been there so /many/ times, the nurses took their sweet time, while I was groaning loudly in the little room..
A half hour later, someone finally came in to check how far I was and they started scrambling. I was 6 cm dilated. I have an extreme phobia to needles and they came in with no warning and told me they needed to do blood work.
I lost it.
I could not breathe anymore.
I was scared.
I tensed up and everything started to hurt more.
And THEN they came in with the IV and the gas.. I didn’t get a choice in anything. Drug-free went out the window.. They shoved the gas mask on my face to make me breathe slower. The room got brighter, my voice sounded lower… I was stoned, straight out. Because of the “need” for all of these needles, my dad had to come in. Before, I figured everything would be weird with anyone but my boyfriend in the room. My father and his wife were in the delivery room for everything. Before they made it to the hospital, the nurses were politely getting me higher and higher, making me breathe with the gas mask through every contraction and decided to have me walk to the delivery room. I don’t know how that seemed like a good idea when I couldn’t walk from the wheel chair we used to get their to the bed.. But alas, we made it into the delivery room and I crawled onto the bed.. They asked me if I wanted an epidural and I thought, “Screw it, drug free is out the window anyways, may as well take everything they’ve got.” So we waited for the anaesthesiologist and when he arrived EVERYONE had their hands on me. He hit a nerve in my back and I jolted, instantly there was a migraine, and he had to move everything and do it again. My step mom was holding the cloth over my eyes, my boyfriend was trying to hold my hand on the right side, my dad was playing with my hair and on the left side the nurse was death gripping my arm and my leg. They placed the mask on my face with the elastic o no one had to hold it. Getting claustrophobic, I moved the mask to my forehead, and that was then holding my cloth up. The nurse to my left kept telling me to push three times during contractions and I couldn’t get her to shut up. I just nodded and said “mhm.” My dad tried telling me that I could do it if I tried. “You get knocked up and then you can tell me what to do,” was my response. Somewhere in the midst of everything, I’d told my boyfriend that if he ever tried touching me again he was dead. I had also said that “these contractions are dicks, you think you’re good and then it’s there.” Twenty minutes after the anaesthesiologist had given me the first needle and the wonderful migraine that I am still paying for, he came back for the second part of the epidural. He stood there for a minute and turned around. It was too late.. I had already been pushing and the baby was almost out. During contractions, I was throwing up in my mouth. Choking on vomit, it’s hard to keep pushing. They told me just to let it go, because it had gone on for about 45 minutes. I opened my mouth and tried not to choke it down. The first contraction that came with that I projectile vomited right into my doctor’s mouth. My father was trying not to laugh and said that vomit made him sick, and turned around for a snicker. I saw my doctor rush to the sink and heave a couple of times and spit before she came charging back and got right in there to “help” me. She placed her fingers inside of my vagina and tried to help stretch my perineum and labia to prevent tears. I shrieked louder every time she touched me. I was already very sensitive, the epidural hadn’t kicked in at ALL and there was no numbing going on. At all. I looked down and saw the baby’s head coming out of me. That’s not an image I can wipe away from my retinas. “Ew” was all I could say… Everyone aside from my boyfriend and parents, was saying “Do it for the baby, you are that much closer to being a mom.” All I could do is say, “Fuck.” I never wanted to be a mom. Ever. With the final pushes they put the baby on top of me. I looked down, said, “Gross.” And looked away. My boyfriend didn’t want to cut the cord. He considered it for a moment but after he said no my dad was already getting in there to do it, so he backed off. The doctor kept putting her hand in the way and my dad is blind in one eye. The cutting of the cord was successful, no hands were sliced. So, now they came to give me stitches, and I lost feeling in my right leg, thanks to the half-ass epidural. They kept telling me it’s not that bad, I won’t feel it, I didn’t tear that badly. So, obviously, I asked if we could skip the stitches.
I was told no, I won’t feel a thing, they will freeze it. I felt the freezing needle go into my vagina.. The freezing didn’t seem to take effect and I felt every stitch go through, and the thread being pulled through my skin.
Anyway, I had a baby girl, that I was instantly ignored for, for three hours in the hospital.. My boyfriend was wanting a girl and we didn’t find out the gender, but I still would have liked to have his hand to hold or something.. Two hours later, because of my bum leg, we got to move to the mother/baby ward. My boyfriend spent the night in the chair beside the bed.. I could not sleep due to the spinal headache that I had acquired from the epidural that I didn’t need. But any time that I had even dosed off, I had to get up to feed or change the baby. And he was passed right out, not waking up for anything. He left for work in the morning and right on cue, someone came in trying to tell me that a doctor had ordered bloodwork that morning from me because I’m pale. I have an iron deficiency.. I’m naturally very pale.. I was exhausted and upset and hungry.. I wasn’t going to have colour. Luckily, MY doctor just happened to be in the area and told them to leave it be and let me take my vitamins. The nurses then started giving me T3’s, knowing that I was breastfeeding, and assuming that I was still in high school. They actually had asked me about high school. The baby was sleeping a lot and jaundiced and not feeding well because she would not wake up. I didn’t know that it was the T3’s until I went to the pharmacy to get something to help with the spinal headache as I refused to get a blood patch. No more needles for me, thanks… A few more days consistently taking T3’s and the baby may have just not woken up..
Well, now I am 12 days postpartum and feeling really alone, inadequate and guilty.
I feel guilty because I can’t seem to appreciate how lucky I KNOW that I am. I still haven’t accepted the fact that I was pregnant, and now I’m a parent.. I have a hard time calling my boyfriend a father and I can’t see myself as a mother..
Reasons why I know I’m lucky:
-no cravings during pregnancy
-no swelling during pregnancy
-no morning sickness
-no fatigue
-25 lb weight gain during pregnancy
-lost 15 lbs instantly after pregnancy
-5 hour labour, with 2 labial stitches, perineum still fully intact
-very content baby, sleeps well, not fussy
-huge support system (6 siblings, 8 nieces and nephews, parents, grandparents, friends, and my boyfriend)
-my tattoos survived, and have few stretchmarks between my legs, on my breasts and on my sides
-I am breastfeeding with no problems
-I ate what I wanted when I wanted to and still had a healthy baby
-I went clubbing at 7 months pregnant for a stagette and had more fun than the bride
Reasons why I feel guilty:
-I know I’m ungrateful of all of the above
-my boyfriend does nothing but irritate me and he is just trying to help
-getting jealous of the baby
-I feel like I’m just going through the motions of motherhood, I have no attachment to the baby
-smiling and pretending everything is okay because I got enough lectures about being pregnant when I never wanted to be
-I dealt with prenatal depression before the baby and ensured my boyfriend everything would be okay when I wasn’t pregnant anymore, it’s not..
-I’ve already had horrible thoughts of things I could do to the baby to not be a parent
-I’ve thought about leaving in the middle of the night
-I feel deformed and disgusting and helpless but I don’t feel like I can say anything
-I can’t find anything that doesn’t outline how beautiful birth is, how much love I should feel and how I should cherish these moments and I don’t feel that way at all.. I hated being pregnant, I cried for a week when I found out and never came to terms with it
-I know I don’t look “bad” but it’s a big change from what I’m used to, and not as good as I would like..
-I went up 5 jean sizes and can’t do anything about that
Ori is not my real name. This is an anonymous post.. I just need to get this out SOMEwhere where I’m not slapping my loved ones in the face.. And hopefully, someone else might feel this way, read this and not feel so alone..
My name is Hope, I’m 24 years old and I had my first child this July. I had a truly empowering and beautiful natural childbirth at a birth center, and my baby is absolutely gorgeous! For the first couple months after having her, I was very unhappy with my body. I thought that is was gross, abnormal, etc etc. My wonderful boyfriend always told me how beautiful I was, and not in a demeaning sort of way (I think that they whole “I love you because you made our child” this is crap–yeah it’s true, but it also sounds like you’re saying “you’re not actually pretty, but because of our pre-existing relationship I think you are” ), he unequivocally called me beautiful. I’m starting to believe and understand this. I know just how strong I am, and how strong my body is. I pushed out a baby that weighed almost 9 pounds, after about 24hrs of labor, all on my own. I’m a superhero! And if I am going to love my little girl, no matter he size or shape, then I have no excuse but to love myself.
I am now 4 months post-partum, and still 10-15 pounds over my pre-pregnancy weight. but my baby and my boyfriend both love the soft mom snuggles that my new body can give them.
I feel for the women who come here to commiserate in their sadness and deflated self-opinions. I think that they are subverting what could be a revolutionary movement, and turning it into something that only serves to reinforce the overly strict ideals of beauty that we are trying to correct! Remember that learning to love yourself starts with positive affirmations– say it even if you don’t believe it!
Body pics are 4mo post-partum, not sure on the BF photo.
Age:20
Numbers of Births/Pregnancies: 1
I am currently 2 months and 8 days postpartum. I was a tiny girl in high school and even then I always felt fat like I needed to lose weight, and the only time I felt pretty was when I wasn’t eating at all and exercising excessively. Then I got into college and I got confident somewhat, but I still exercised and ate healthy and remained tiny. Well after all the work of becoming confident I fell in love with the man of my dreams and I got pregnant, I wouldn’t change my life for anything and I love my little family but it really knocked my confidence into the ground once I saw my body afterwards. I’m only two months postpartum and was told by the nutritionist that I need to lose 25lbs, (I gained 55 in pregnancy). So not only do I feel like I look fat but I have others telling me to lose 25 pounds! I’m trying to stay positive and tell myself I can do it but I don’t know how to do that with everything going on in my life. My boyfriend says I’m beautiful and that I don’t really look like I changed but I see different. My whole life there has always been something about myself that I’ve wanted to change and I’m tired of that unsatisfied feeling. I want to feel beautiful and look beautiful to others. I want to wear a bikini this summer and have people ask me how I did it! My mom bounced back so well, she had no stretch marks and looked like she didn’t have one child when she actually had 3. I just wish that all women would be defined as beautiful not just the super tiny ones. One thing I do love about my post pregnancy body is the curves, but if it’s possible to get smaller I’d feel better I think.
Hi! My name is Ellen. I’m 28 years old and 3 months post c-section. I have had 5 kids in 6 years and had a tubal ligation done with the last one, which was my only c-section.
I’m 5’6 and used to be an athletic 160 lbs and right now I’m stuck at 200. I have major issues with my body now and am planning on having a mommy makeover next year.
The stretch marks are really bad in the light and my breasts, although bigger than they ever were are a bit droopy. My stomach isn’t as bad as it could be, but I don’t like the look of it either. My butt lost a lot of its roundness and my thighs are huge.
As much as I could complain, my children are worth it all. Plus whatever can’t be fixed on its own can be corrected with surgery. Yes, some of our bodies change immensely after having children, but it’s worth the miracle.
My body is a blessing. Before now I wasn’t so sure. Ironically, though I had given birth 4 times vaginally (twice without meds) it took my emergency c-section to show me just how wonderful my body is. I’m not skinny, I haven’t been since my first pregnancy in high school, I have stretch marks and loose skin, cellulite, freckles and scars. I have carried seven people with in me. 5 made it earth side and 2 were called home. My body has given life and it has experienced terrible loss. The BMI index considers me over weight, and I’m ok with it. I have a scar now that is the biggest one on my body. The deepest. And it’s so beautiful. I can’t express to you just how in love with my scar that I am. I look at it and I know that we survived. We made it. No matter what I feel victorious in how I birthed my son. So please, c-section Mama’s, don’t think that because you didn’t give birth vaginally that you didn’t do something amazing. I’ve given birth just about every way that someone CAN give birth and I promise you, you’re all big damn heroes to me :) . You have that scar and your baby is here, it may not have been the birth you wanted, and next time you’re going to crush that VBAC if you go for it (I have faith in you) but please, in between now and then just remember that you’re beautiful, and that you’re no less of a woman because you had MAJOR surgery to get that baby here. Because from my experience, that takes as much of a birth warrior as squatting down and pushing baby out. <3 Age: 23 Number of pregnancies and births: 7 pregnancies 7 births 5 live births (4 mine one surro babe) number of children: 7, 3, 1 and 1 month [gallery ids="12108,12104,12105,12106,12107"]
I am soon to be 26 yrs old. I have had five pregnancies and five happy babies born in the last six years. I would never have changed having my kids so close together but having a baby every year didn’t give me a chance to lose much weight and tone up again between each pregnancy. Before kids I’ve always had a tight thin body with large perky boobs and was always proud of my body. I do have hope that I can tighten my tummy more than it is now but I’m still amazed looking back that I had 5 kids back to back and by body did its job growing and protecting each one, so I am so proud of my body. I was 138 lbs before my fifth pregnancy and I went up to 194 lbs at the end of the pregnancy. Now I am 149 lbs at four months post partum. Breastfeeding helps mentally that My body is still useful even if it doesn’t look the same.
Thanks for reading
