After But Before (Colleen)

My previous submissions are here: (oh no I’m becoming a serial poster!)
One Year After a Cesarean
Ode to my Scar
Coming to Grips With a Cesarean

My age: 27
One pregnancy, one birth
My daughter is 21 months old.

I have to apologize; I like to take a few days to tweak my entries before submitting them and this one just kept getting longer and more ramble-y. I didn’t originally intend on writing quite so much!

A few weeks ago my husband fell while out on his daily bike ride. He’s okay, but he scraped up one knee pretty badly. I was looking at the scab one day to see how it was healing, and I noticed a large white stripe on the side of his knee.

I said, “Hun, is this a stretch mark?”

He replied, “where?”

“On your knee.”

“Yeah, probably. I’ve got them everywhere.”

My husband is not an overly large man. He is 5’8’’, and 195 pounds (a lot of which is muscle). Yet his thighs, butt, back, and—apparently—knees are covered in deep, wide stretch marks. They are flesh-colored, but they still lend an unmistakable texture to his skin. And you know what? He’s okay with them. “Okay” really isn’t the right word, he just doesn’t consider them at all. There’s nothing he can do about this gift that puberty gave him, so why stress about it? (When I let him read this post he stopped and looked at them, but he had to look around to see exactly where they were. They just aren’t on his radar normally).

I find it ironic that as I sat down to write this entry, I checked Facebook and Bonnie had posted the clip from Steven Colbert about ugly armpits and companies creating problems for women to “fix”, because that’s sort of what I was thinking about writing about.

The thing is, I’ve read several posts where women say “I already had stretch marks from puberty.” Nobody ever seems bothered by those marks, like my husband, but the vast majority of women HATE their pregnancy stretch marks. Why is that? Because we are told that we should. There are countless products out there made to “fix” and/or “prevent” stretch marks, and they invariably have a pregnant woman on the label. The message is that if you are growing yourself, stretch marks are fine, but if you are growing another being, they are not. And that’s just plain wrong.

I understand this, and yet I am still terrified that a future pregnancy will leave my stomach riddled with silvery lines, just like my hips are. It’s such a deeply ingrained cultural prejudice that I cannot seem to overcome it. But I was a junior in college before I EVER realized my mother had stretch marks. They faded to almost nothing and I didn’t care. Our children do not care about the marks that we gained in giving them life. We are perfect to them regardless. Isn’t it sad that what society deems “acceptable” is more important to us than our own children’s opinions?

I love my daughter more than life itself, but the thought of raising a girl in today’s culture scares the ever-living crap out of me. She’s small for her age but she eats like she’s facing a famine, so much that her little tummy gets distended and her shirts ride up. J I love to poke it and say “look at that belly!”, but sometimes I worry that she’ll take it to heart and start thinking she needs to eat less, or suck it in. And she is only 21 months old. She can’t possibly think that way yet but how do I know when she might? I want to raise a daughter who loves herself the way she is and realizes that she is beautiful, without pushing her over into outright vanity. It’s such a fine line and I’m afraid that I will step off of it and mess her up for life.

I have made no progress since my first post, 20 months ago. My indomitable self-confidence is starting to waiver. Some days I look in the mirror and look at my stomach in disgust. It isn’t big at all, but I see the line left by my underwear and feel like such a fatty. I had a very small pregnant belly and I still look like I did when I was 4 or 5 months along. But as I was standing in the shower earlier, sucking my stomach in to see what was fat and what was the natural curve of my body, I began to wonder why a flat stomach even matters. Women are not all meant to have flat stomachs. If that was “normal” for all human females, it would not be such a hard state to maintain. It bothers me that I’m upset about looking like a natural woman, a mother. I wish I had more friends near me who are mothers. Everybody I know with babies lives far away and none of my “everyday” friends have kids yet. It’s very hard to be confident or comfortable when you’re comparing yourself to untested, unstretched bodies.

Sometimes I feel like I have lost control of my life. I hate my job (yup, still the same one that I “wasn’t going to go back to”). I keep applying for new ones and I never hear a single thing back. It is discouraging, and my inability to get out of a horrible work situation has started to cause me to doubt other areas of my life too. Why can’t I eat better? Why can’t I finish painting the house we bought over a year ago? Why don’t I exercise? What, exactly—other than a beautiful little girl—have I accomplished in the five years since I graduated from college?

I have been slowly working on making my dinners healthier; I figure that’s something, at least. What I really need to do is exercise, for peace of mind as well as for fitness. There just always seems to be something more important to do than exercising. I don’t have enough (baby-free, work-free) hours in the day.

My husband is my inspiration. He is more dissatisfied with his body than I. He’s gained nearly 30 pounds since we started dating (8 years ago) and he hates it. He has an unfortunate metabolism that likes to add weight quickly and not give it back up easily. He took up cycling a few years ago, and this year he signed up for a 250-mile charity ride which he has been training religiously for. He’s only lost 10 pounds so far but he is so much trimmer and in much better shape. I figure if he can do it, why can’t I?

So here I am, 21 months post partum from my first baby, 8 months after I weaned her. I am considering these to be my “before” pictures—before I take control of my life, get my body to a healthier state that doesn’t nag at the back of my mind, and regain my self-confidence. If he can do it, I can do it, and I WILL.

Updated here.

Wish I Knew Then What I Know Now (Kayla)

Number of pregnancies and births: 1
3 weeks pp- 2 weeks pp in photos.

I am 21 years old and had a baby 3 weeks ago today. I have always had issues with my body. I was anorexic in middle school and part of high school. Now looking back…I can’t figure out why! How crazy was I? I thought I was fat??? I weighed 130 lbs and was pretty toned. My skin was tight; I had very little stretch marks. Who cares that my boobs were small and one was bigger than the other? I would do almost anything to have that body back. My daughter is the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me…but I still can’t shake this sadness that I feel for losing my youthful look. Now I am all motherly and I don’t like it. The most depressing thing about it is, I am so young…21…Isn’t this when I am supposed to look my best? Now I have stretch marks under my belly button, on my hips, and my breasts are saggy, nipples are bigger and darker and they are covered in stretch marks. I still have that linea negra that I am worried will never go away… My husband says he doesn’t care and that he actually loves me more and finds me more attractive. He loved the experience of watching the birth. I had a VERY hard labor and delivery and the nurses didn’t think I would deliver her vaginally. But I did! I pushed as hard as I could and got her out. Actually saved her life I pushed so hard. The doctor wasn’t there and her heart rate dropped very low because the cord was wrapped around her neck. So, while I have this inner confidence that can’t be broken, my confidence in my body is at an all time low. I’m hoping it doesn’t affect my relationship with my husband because he is so wonderful. This website is amazing and has made me break down and cry so many times. I thought maybe I should contribute…not feeling so great about it…I feel like I have to though…maybe it will be empowering? Uplifting? Possibly make someone else feel better because they are not alone? My body is COMPLETELY different than it used to be. I was going to post a picture of my before/after breasts…but I just can’t do that yet. I don’t even want to look at them much less take a picture.

Photo 1- Me pre-pregnancy
Photo 2&3- 2 weeks pp
Photo 4- one of my favorites of my daughter curled up on my chest. With unmatching socks!

Updated here and here.

Almost a Year Post C-Section (Anonymous)

Pregnancies/Births:1/1
11 and 1/2 months pp

I have posted a couple times on here, and each time has shown a more positive outlook and attitude! Partly,, thanks to this site!! I encourage every mother to FIND/MAKE at least 2 hours a week to do something active that you really enjoy! Doesn’t have to be all at once,,, 4 different 30 min segments would be great! It’ll relieve stress, boost confidence and give you the energy you need and deserve to be a great mother! My first three pics are me now,,, small , not as perky boobs(being 32 and trying unsuccessfully to breast feed will do that for ya lol) and c section scar,, but my activity is getting me into great shape! Next two are my angel face girl,, doing one of her favorite things, standing in her favorite spot and watching and laughing at Dora! :) And me and my Husband celebrating his birthday at a basketball game! Summer is coming,, so lets find that time so we can be happy and active with our children! God Bless :)

On How I Bought My Baby (Elizabeth)

Originally posted on Elizabeth’s blog, Queen E The Third.

I’m just going to come right out and say it.

Before having kids?

I was a hot piece of ass.

Of course I didn’t see it then, but boy, do I see it now.

I would give my first born to have the body of 19 year old me again.

Just kidding.

My second born.

Just kidding.

The dog.

He barks too much anyways.

*

When I got pregnant with Samantha I didn’t gain more than 6 pounds in the first 4.5 months. I still comfortably wore all my regular clothes.

At nearly 5 months pregnant people actually didn’t believe I was pregnant.

Do you hate me now?

Sure, things changed some. Almost immediately there was some shifting. But nothing too drastic. I wasn’t working out. After losing my job [because I was pregnant, in not so many words. True story.] I really wasn’t doing much of anything. Except for eating whatever I wanted. When it came to food, I pulled the pregnant card more than what would be acceptable from Michelle Duggar. I survived solely on Olive Garden, Taco Bell, Taormina’s Pizza [it’s a Detroit thing, you wouldn’t understand], Cold Stone or Ben & Jerry’s, and Sprite. For real.

Then somewhere between 4.5 and 5 months I woke up one morning with a bump. A certifiable, visible to the public, baby bump. My pants would no longer button and my suit jacket wouldn’t close. Thankfully I could go without the jacket, but pants? Not wearing pants to work is generally frowned upon, unless you’re a in a specialty line of work. I used a hair time to keep my pants together and wore the longest shirt I could find. I probably spend the majority of that day with my zipper down and didn’t realize it. As soon as I left work I went and bought my first pair of maternity pants.

At first everyone told me that I made a such a cute pregnant woman. That it was “all in my belly” and “you don’t even look pregnant from behind”. I begged to differ, but compliments are nice. Then as I grew the comments were more like “are you having twins?” and “you must be due any second!”

No and no. But thanks.

I remember putting my cocoa butter on every day and simultaneously praying/thanking for no stretch marks.

7 months in, 2 to go.

In those last 4 months of my first pregnancy I gained almost sixty pounds.

SIX. ZERO.

The majority of that weight came on in just the last month. Bringing with it stretch marks that made my belly look like it’d been mauled by a tiger. They were long and purple and deep and they hurt like hell.To make the area formerly known as my sexy stomach even more of a crime scene, the scar tissue from my naval ring got hard and turned a poop shade of brown.

On the day I went into labor with Samantha I was 218 pounds.

In the 10th hour of labor or so, with no drugs.
She was 9 pounds and 9 ounces at birth.

Dare I say perfection? I dare.

When I hobbled out of left the hospital, I was somewhere in the 180s and determined to get my body back. Two weeks postpartum I started walking with Sam. At first I was only doing a couple blocks, then after my mom bought me an encouraging new pair of sneakers I started building up little by little. Eventually we got up to 7 miles each trip.

I started to get bored and craved a little alone time. Ken and I agreed that I would get an hour a day at the gym. I did 30-60 minutes on the elliptical and ran/walk depending on how much my knee could take.

When I went back to work after my 6 weeks of maternity leave I decided I would bike rather than drive. Never you mind that it was 8.5 miles one way and I hadn’t ridden a bike in well over 5 years. I was going to do it. Dammit.

And I did.

I used Ken’s old bike, after replacing it with a super cushiony seat [hemorrhoids say what?]. I packed my work clothes, breakfast and lunch in a backpack and loaded my iPod. On good days the ride was about 30 minutes. By the time I got to work I was sweaty and my face was beat red, but I felt good.

I rode to and from work, then if time allowed, before Ken had to leave, I would also go to the gym. In the afternoon we did our walks. Whenever Sam was playing on the floor I would get down and do endless crunches. When she was restless, I would put her in the carrier and do lunges up and down the hallway.

The last of the baby weight?

Fell off. Fast.

I was down to a few pounds less than before I was pregnant and things were fitting.

I don’t know that I’d ever felt so good in my life.

I was proud of myself.

And I was confident. Mostly.

With my clothes on you’d never guess I’d had a baby. But without? I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror. My stomach was deflated. The skin was loose and droopy. You know when you have a bunch of helium balloons that you forgot about and they start to loose air, getting those little wrinkles? That’s what my stomach looked like. I think Jess describes it best when she compared the postpartum belly to raw bread dough. Believe me, it is every bit as appetizing.

I tried everything. Cocoa butter. Vitamins. Drinking gallons of water. Bio Oil. Mederma. Nothing worked. Not even a little bit. I toy around with the idea of a tummy tuck, but won’t seriously think about it until I know that I am done fulfilling my duties as resident baby grower.

Angus is SO not impressed.

Until then I’ll continue to remind myself that Sam was more than worth it. I mean, I got a beautiful baby, and all it cost me was the skin from my midsection.

Anonymous

My boyfriend and I weren’t together long when I found out about our first daughter. We were young, scared yet estatic about the news. I was 145 lbs when I first found out I was pregnant. I’m 5’5, so I wasn’t super thin, but I was happy with how I looked. I was diagnosed with Gestational Diabetes, and by the end of the pregnancy I was up to 195 lbs. I ended up with what seemed like millions of tiny little stretch marks from pelvic bone to just up past my belly button, Tiny, silver stretch marks. My first daughter was 2 weeks over due. I was induced, had my water broke, and after 9 1/2 hrs of labour, they decided to take her by c-section as every time I had a contraction her heart rate dropped. They took me to the OR and by the time we got there, they had lost her heart rate and were losing me, thus, emergency c-section. Needless to say, scared Darren and I throughly. After wards, my healing went normaly, however, dealing with the stretchmarks, scar and loose sagging skin was not easy.

Also, before the baby, I had quite a large chest, I was a 36DD prebaby days. During pregnancy and breastfeeding, I was at least a 38E. After breastfeeding for 4 months, my breats were saggy and empty feeling. So not only did my breast sag, but my stomach as well. So here I was, 22 yrs old, 15 lbs heavier than I was use to (dropped to 160 lbs quickly) covered in stretch marks, saggy skin and a pouch. While al my friends were skinny, and loving/living the young adult life. Needless ot say, I was depresed. I went a week at a time with out showering, you couldn’t find me out of sweat pants very often if ever, hair always in a bun…not very attractive. Took a kick in the butt from my mother to get me in gear. My loving and supportive boyfriend always told me how beautiful I was and how it didn’t matter to him. The marks on my body were made from OUR child. He thought my scars and marks were beautiful.

I ended up getting down to 154 which was only 9 lbs away from my pre baby weight. I quit smoking (it’s been 15 months now) but gained 16 lbs from doing so…170 lbs. I joined weight watchers, started walking absolutely every where, biking every where, would go anywhere without spanx or layers to hide the pouch and loose skin…2 weeks into weight watchers…SUPRISE baby #2. I was really excited, but taken back. We weren’t trying, and he wasn’t sure he wanted another one…me on the other hand I was POSTIVE I wanted one, but wanted to wait at least another year for our daughter to be older and in school when the second was born.

My boyfriend became very distant and almost detatched from me durning my second pregnancy. Didn’t come to any dr’s appointments, didn’t really show any interested in ultra sound pics or news about how I was doing with the pregnancy. Never really touched my belly or told me I was beautiful (which he was always reassuring me during baby #1, and post baby) Our sex life suffered, it felt like we were strangers. He doesn’t deal with fear or loss of control well…at all. I gained the weight quickly and it made matters worse. Started at 170….41 wks gestation weighed in at 224 lbs. I was devestated. I weighed more than my boyfriend. When I went into labour he stepped up. We have a vaginal birth, and he coached me the whole way through. I’ve lost 30 lbs in 10 days, 20 of it was in the delivery room, but I feel like a million dollars. And my boyfriend is back being the supportive amazing man that he is. Our second daughter was healthy, no complications, 9 lbs even. He’s bonded with her amazingly, and we have our bond back as well…11 days post delivery, I am 195 lbs. Which still bothers me as it’s the weight I was when I delivered my first, but I am making progress. Breast feeding, and eventually long walks with my girls. Websites like this give me hope for my girls, that one day they will love their bodies, regardless what the media tells them! Thank you so much for this website! Seeing women with the same scars, stretch marks and skin makes me feel like I’m not alone.

Age: 24
Number of pregnancies and births: 2, 2
The age of children: 2 1/2, 11 days
Second pregnancy, cesarean

Starting to Love My Body Again – Update (Anonymous)

Original entry here.

So have been working very hard for the past month and am now actually 5 lbs. lighter than my pre-pregnancy weight!!!! Feeling wonderful and loving the way i look!!!

Age: 25
Number of pregnancies/births: 2 pregnancies, 2 births
About 20 months postpartum

Pic 1&2: about 20 weeks postpartum
pic 3&4: about 20 weeks postpartum with clothes on

Pouch Tummy and Tons of Stretch Marks (Melissa)

Age: 23
Number of Pregnancies: 1 Births 1
PP: 6 months

So I stumbled across this website by chance looking up different support groups for weight loss and cesarean sections. I have been reading the stories and have found them so compelling and inspiring that I thought I might share mine. I did not really realize how blessed I am to have my boyfriend (though we are living separately right now) in my life and completely supportive.

I was an average 22 year old when I found out I was pregnant. I was 5’6 about 175, not fantastic but not super overweight either. t. I lost my job late December, and was struggling to find another one. When I found out I was pregnant, and thought that I should inform my possible employers of such when they asked certain questions like “is there anything that will impede you coming to work for over a year” I let them know. Needless to say I was unemployed for the majority of the year. Now everything went along swimmingly during my pregnancy. I did not really gain much weight in the beginning, I was a bit moody here and there but it was fine. After about 5-6 months pregnant I found out I was having a little girl, and we were more than thrilled.

At 36 weeks Scarlett had gained over a 1lb and a primary C was scheduled. At 39 weeks I gave birth to a very healthy 10lb 6 oz girl 21 3/4 inches long on October 14 2010. This was when things started going down hill. I had a hard recovery from the C, and I had a lot of extra weight on me. I started off at 175 I walked in to the hospital at 230, Scarlett had stretched me to the gills. Which is fairly evident in the pictures I have below.

I lost 30 lbs fairly quickly and have been sitting at an even 200-205 for the last three months. I have alot of issues with the way my body looks, and it has gone to the point where it had taken a toll on my relationship. Between me being unhappy with my looks, an infant, my 4 year old step son, part time work and a full load at school, and my boyfriend returning to work full time, I stressed myself out to the point where he moved out, not because of him, but because of me.

I am almost 6 months postpartum, and school has finally calmed down enough to where I have decided to begin working out more vigorously. I have come to terms that I will never have the figure I had prior to pregnancy, never have a nice tone tummy (I’ve always had extra skin and been squishy. Now I’m like uber squishy lol :) ), but I have come to realize that I need to be happy with myself in the short term, or atleast okay, in order to be strong for my daughter, and myself.

I am amazed at how strong and loving my boyfriend is, he tells me I’m beautiful and that he loves me everyday, even though he knew the body prior to pregnancy.

I am proud to say I may have a saggy tummy, even tiger striped and ugly, but I have a gorgeous 6 month old, and a loving family.

1st picture: 6 months pregnant
2nd Picture: Side view of pouchy-ness
3rd Picture: Attempt at picture of C- scar
4th Picture: Frontal view of pouchy-ness

Updated here.

Beautifully Destroyed (Sia)

Previous entries here and here.

age 17
months pp 9

The other day I ran into a girl who I went to school with. She is a little younger than me and has always been kind of rude. She was telling me how she saw pictures of me before I had my daughter and how she COULD NOT believe that I was ever THAT skinny. She said I must hate my body and she went on to say that having my daughter DESTROYED me. I honestly was at a loss for words. I could not believe she was talking to me this way. I mean, I was actually starting to think I looked pretty good for having a nine month old baby. I looked the girl right in the face and I calmly told her that I would of gained 1000 more stretchmarks and 300 more pounds for my little princess, and I walked away. Her words really did get to me, and I have to admit I went home and cried to my boyfriend. I may not have the body I used to have, but that girl doesnt know what its like to fall asleep every night with the arms of the man that loves me wrapped around me tight. She has no idea the feeling that overcomes me when I peek into my daughters crib late at night just to see my beautiful baby girl sleeping so peacefully in a fuzzy sleeper with animals on the feet. So if people look at my body and think that I am destroyed, then I am BEAUTIFULLY destroyed. I have never been this happy in my life. My body never brought me happiness earlier in life, my daughter brings me the most joy and my body made her. I wouldnt change a thing for the world. Of course there are days where I look in the mirror and wish I was thinner, And I must say there is wayyyyy too much love in my love handles haha. My love handles are my biggest complaint, but hey I dont have too much to complain about. Im just loving life, loving my family, and most importantly learning to love myself.

I wanted to share a poem that I wrote about my daughter, kennedy, when she was only a few weeks old.

my beautiful baby girl sleeping so peacefully beside me
i lay my ear on your chest , listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat

i take your tiny hand as you wrap it around my finger tightly
bending dowm to kiss your cheek, i notice one eye opens slightly

only for a second, then you enter your dream world for the second time
i love you so much, its unbelievable something so heavenly is mine

for nine months i watched how my body changed and grew
the moment i saw that plus sign, i was overwhelmed by love for you

i felt every movement as your own body took shape
i felt my body expand, as yours began to gain weight

until you gained enough weight to be a beautiful healthy baby girl
the day you were born, i knew you were my world

your headful of hair and your dark eyes
the resemblence between us took me by surprise

you had the cutest little mouth and your chubby cheeks
all swaddled up, you looked so sweet

i remember the first time you looked up at me when you opened your big dark eyes
i smiled down at you as i, myself started to cry

a mother meeting her baby, the greatest feeling there is
now our new life as a family was to begin

I went a little picture crazy with this post haha, but all of the ones of me our me nine months pp. then the other pictures are of my little girl kennedy. and then of course the one of the both of us together.

Updated here.

Confidant… Most Days (February Mama)

I am so grateful to be able to identify myself as a Mother. My DH and I struggled for 14 months to conceive our first child, Ethan. We tried to get pregnant on our own for many months before turning to a fertility clinic for help. After tons of testing we were diagnosed with “unexplained infertility”. Which made us feel even more helpless because apparently there was nothing wrong with either of our bodies and we “should” be able to get pregnant. Finally, after an unsuccessful 3 months of being on the fertility drug “Clomid” I said enough was enough. I was emotionally and physically spent. Our doctor convinced us to try one round of Intrauterine Insemination (IUI) without any medication, but warned us that without medication, it was rarely successful. We agreed to try one round. If that did not work, we were done. On June 4, 2008 we had our IUI performed and it worked! We were stunned, elated, shocked, and thrilled to death! We were finally expecting a baby!

Aside from some morning sickness and an ovarian cyst that resolved on its own, my pregnancy was uneventful. I enjoyed “eating for two” and had gained 40lbs by 36 weeks. I started my pregnancy at a fit 125lbs, and at 5’7′ felt this was my “ideal” weight as I had maintained this weight for over 10 years without issue. Although my belly expanded more than I thought was humanly possible I was left with only one small stretch mark on my right hip. Little did I realize how much that one little mark would mean to me. At 37 weeks and 3 days my world came crashing down. I was sent for an ultrasound because my midwife could not tell if my baby was breech. At the ultrasound I was happily telling the nurse that my midwife thought I would have a large baby because she thought the baby’s head was big. The nurse asked the doctor if a baby’s total weight could be predicted by the size of his head so the doctor began to scan my son’s head. The moment I looked up at him was the worst moment of my life. I saw his face crumple in a look of total disbelief and shock. When I asked what he saw he stopped the ultrasound and told me to call my husband while he went to get the neonatologist. In a moment I was left alone in a hospital room with no explanation of what was going on. I called my husband who rushed to the hospital and together we learned from the neonatologist that our son had a very sever case of Hydrocephaly. Fluid had built up inside his skull and was taking up the space where his brain should have had room to grow. Although the part of his brain that controlled breathing, heartrate, and other unconcious functions worked perfectly, the other parts of his brain had not developed. Our only option was to have the fluid drained from his skull so that he could be born. A C-section was out of the question due to the size of his head. Our doctor explained that if I chose to have a C-section without draining the fluid from my sons head, he would have to make such a huge incision that I stood a good chance of bleeding out and dying. As our son was already comatose in my belly, we chose to have the cranial decompression performed. It was successful and I was able to have him naturally. Ethan was stillborn on February 7, 2009 at 37 weeks and 6 days. He weighed 7lbs 15oz and looked like a beautiful sleeping angel.

Leaving the hospital empty handed was like the final insult heaped ontop of years of injury. I was convinced we were never meant to parent a living child. I threw myself into the task of losing my baby weight. I treated weightloss like a job. Every single day I walked for miles. When our OB gave me the go ahead to start running again, I ran until I thought I would colapse. 9 weeks after giving birth I was back to 125lbs and into my pre-pregnancy clothes. And I LOVED that little stretch mark on my right hip. It was the only physical evidence that my son had existed. 3 months after Ethan died, my husband and I decided we would try again one more time. Back to the fertiity clinic we went and our doctor agreed to perform the same IUI procedure, again with the warning of “it rarely works without medication, let alone on the first try”. 4 days later we were pregnant, again! If that seems like an awfully short time between giving birth and getting pregnant, IT WAS. I did’nt realize until near the end of my pregnancy that I was’nt longing for ANOTHER child, I was longing for Ethan. I did’nt make a mistake by getting pregnant again, but I really should have taken more time to grieve. Although my pregnancy went perfectly, I was terrified through the entire process. At 38 weeks pregnant I was begging my OB for an induction. He was the neonatologist that had taken me on as a patient the day I found out about Ethan’s Hydrocephaly, so he knew how much I wanted this process to be over. He agreed to induce me at 39 weeks, and on February 21, 2010 my beautiful daughter Faith was born, weighing a whopping 8lbs 14oz! Healthy, perfect in every way, and looking exactly like her brother. My DH and I were over the moon with happiness and still are today. Our daughter brings us more joy than we knew existed in this world.

After Faith’s birth, my body shocked me. I was in my pre-pregnancy clothing at 3 weeks post pardum and by 7 weeks I had lost all of my baby weight and then some even though I was not doing anymore than the occassional walk around the block. I believe I owe the weight loss to breastfeeding. I never planned to breastfeed but thought I’d give it a try. It seemed to work well for both Faith and I and we did it for 7 months. I gained a pound or two back after we stopped breastfeeding but my current weight seems to be holding steady at 122lbs. My body has changed completely though. My hips are wider, my thighs are narrower. My waist is wider and my boobs are a lot saggier. I’ve got stretch marks all over the lower right side of my stomach, but none on my left (so weird, not sure why that happened) My original stretch mark got a little longer, and I got a few new ones on my left hip, and my belly button looks like a crumpled up tissue. I still think I can rock a bikini, and I do (to heck with what anyone on the beach thinks!) But some days I don’t feel as confident as others. I find myself obsessing about getting a mini-tummy tuck. But, DH and I would like to have a living sibling for Faith so we’ll be trying for baby number 3 next year and I can’t get any surgery before I’m done having children. I’m really scared about what another baby will do to my body, so I’m trying to enjoy what I’ve got now, while I can. My children make the jiggly bits of my body matter a lot less, but they still do matter a little. I believe I will get a tummy tuck in due time, because I want to continue to have confidence in the way I look, but no mater what, the title of “Mother” is infinitely more important than how I look in a bathing suit.

Pic #1 is me before any of my pregnancies
Pic #2 is me 4 weeks pregnant with my second baby
Pic #3 is 39 weeks pregnancy with my second baby
Pic #4 and #5 is 7 weeks post pardum with my second baby
Pic #6 and #7 is 14 months post pardum with my second baby

~Age: 29
~Number of pregnancies and births: 2 pregnancies 2 births
~The age of your children, or how far postpartum you are: Oldest would have been 2, youngest is 13 months

Appendix Removal Update (Fiona)

Original entry here.

I had my appendix removed when I was fairly far on in pregnancy, and it was a fairly traumatic experience. I have enclosed some photos of how my scar is looking now, and also a little update on me.

Some negatives which have come from my experience –

1. Only one big problem, my own mental state. At the time of this appendix operation, I was offered counselling, and I refused, and now I regret it. Its a huge operation, in terms of both medical terms and also emotional terms, and as I mentioned in my original post I was awake at the time, and still to this day (almost 3 years later) I have nightmares about what happened (although I must stress that the hospital staff were absolutely fantastic). The surgical stuff scared me a lot, I didn’t understand, and I was in a country where my
native language was not spoken. I felt so helpless, and obviously the operation was very, very bloody and messy, and it freaks me out. I remember seeing my daughters hands in the sack when they had my stomach pulled open (She was almost definitely drawn to the light), and I freaked out. I have nightmares about that
too. THATS what I have nightmares about. I think it comes from the own fear I felt about my own, and my unborn childs, life. I would urge anyone who goes through this operation during pregnancy to take whatever support is offered to you, and seek more, even if you feel fine. The emotional costs will probably come out later, rather than sooner. You will almost definitely find that you feel fantastic, so happy and grateful to be alive and still have your baby after the operation, but someday, one day, its probable that these strains will come back to haunt you.

One of the things I remember from my 1 week ICU stay is the doctor (who luckily spoke English) coming to me, and showing me a chart about the risks of pre-term delivery for my child depending on the weeks. I remember my pregnancy being at the “high risk of death or brain damage” scale, and thats what sticks in my
mind.

2 – I still have minor cramping and discomfort around the scar a few years later. My doctor puts this down to the muscles re-bonding. Also due to the scar it is highly unlikely I will ever have a flat tummy. But in the grand scheme of things … who cares really?

Some positives which have come from my experience –

1 – My child is healthy. VERY healthy! No words can describe how wonderful this feels.

2 – I have such renewed faith in the medical system of the country where I live (Japan, FYI.) Its amazing to go to a hospital, during pregnancy, and be treated seriously and not like I am some over-anxious other-to-be suffering from round ligament pain or braxton hicks. I worried at the time I was being too cautious,
but now I realize that doctors are doctors because they study hard, they learn a lot, and they are GOOD at what they do. Luckily my husband was the one who dragged me to the hospital, because If I had been home alone that night, I probably would not have gone. I think its important that if you do have similar pains in your stomach which do not fit the braxton hicks or round ligament pain description (NOT necessarily in
your regular “appendix pain” area) to just seek medical help. If In doubt, just go to the hospital.
The doctor is probably not going to care if you come to the hospital and it turns out to be nothing. But if it turns out to be something … you will definitely regret not going.

3 – The experience has given me the motivation to start to seriously learn the language of the country which I live.

4 and did I mention my child is fine! I am fine too!

Its been a while since my operation now, but I encourage anyone with any questions to contact me, at this email address. It can be really lonely going through something like this by yourself. Even with a loving partner, they dont understand how hard it can be.

Many thanks, Fiona

I am now 25, my child is 2 years, 4 months.

Also – in the photos the scar is on the wrong side, but its because I use mac photo booth to take the photos. It automatically flips them and as a result It appears the wrong way round.

I enclosed 2 photos of the scar, and also one of my daughter and me now.