Second Pregnancy

I Found My Beautiful (Jessa)

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

Previous post here.

Age: 23
Number of pregnancies and births: 2, 2
Age of children: 3 (next month) and 10 months

I know my previous post had that confident vibe, but most days the confidence and acceptance of my body just isn’t there.

The other day I was very discouraged about my shape. It had been a rough day and I decided to take a picture of my stomach laying down post-Lexi to compare to the picture I took laying down while pregnant with her. It was a way for me to feel accomplished.

I snapped a couple pictures and forgot about them.

Life went on as normal for the next couple days, days that I was proud of myself and proud of my body for two successful pregnancies. Then I had another downer day. On my downer days I snap pictures of my kids playing. I then proceeded to upload those pictures to my computer so I could share them with our family who lives 12 hours away.

And that’s when I saw it. One of the pictures of my post-Lexi body. The way the light hit it, it was beautiful. It literally took my breath away. My skin, though dimpled and scared looked like a thing carved out of marble. Surely my body is art and my children are the medium. I think that is the first time since either child has been born that I have looked at my body in awe and total appreciation.

So now when I have downer days, on top of taking pictures of the girls, I look at this picture and feel proud. And you can bet I will be in a bikini this summer. A fact which has my husband thrilled. <--- No really, I'm serious. He is excited for this *snicker* Pictures: #1 Laying down 9 months pregnant #2 Laying down 9 months postpartum #3 The beautiful picture. #4 My oldest, Haylie #5 My youngest, Alexis [gallery]

I Love My Body…With Clothes ON! (Anonymous)

Bonnie (SOAM) African American, Belly, Breasts, Butt, Cesarean, Legs, Postpartum, Second Pregnancy, Submissions 14 Comments

I found out I was pregnant with my first child when I was 19 years old. I was extremely excited but of course I was scared about what was to come. I was actually anxious to start to show…that didn’t happen until I was 6 months. Then I exploded like a hot air balloon. In the back of my head I always knew that I would get stretch marks, gain a lot of weight and look a hot mess because it was genetic. Both my mom and sisters gained a lot of weight…and “gave birth” via C-Section! :-(

I was 135lbs pre-pregnancy. When I gave birth to my child I weighed in at 209lbs at the hospital…74lbs. I am only 5’4″ so that looked disgusting. I had to have a C-Section because I had “Failure To Progress” which I think is a load of BS since neither I nor the baby was in any kind of danger. I think my doctor just wanted to go home. I digress. I breast fed for 9 months with baby #1. I only got back down to 175lbs. Then got preggers with baby #2 when baby #1 was 13 months. I had immense stretch marks already but there was no reason to do anything about them since I was already preggers again.

After baby #2 I hated my body. I was fat and stratted up (straie for stretch marks – you know – instead of tatted up?! Yeah Im corney). I had stretch marks everywhere except my feet, head, arms and hands. Literally. I was so depressed. I did go on WW and I lost 50 pounds and got all the way back down to 135lbs! But then me and their father split and I gained a lot back keeping me at 155lbs for two years but then I became ill a few months ago and am now at 144lbs.

The pictures below show my tummy…which I want a Tummy Tuck because doctors said that is the ONLY way to get rid of all the excess skin and stretch marks. I have a six back under the loose skin. I’ve always been muscular. I’ve tried to show you guys as close as possible the ones on my thighs, but, and sides.

To me there is nothing special about stretch marks. Getting rid of them does NOT mean that I resent my children…that’s the dumbest thing I have ever heard. I deserve to be happy with my body regardless of having children…

* Age: 25
* Number of pregnancies and births: 2 Pregnancies, 2 Births
* The age of your children, or how far postpartum you are: 5 and 3: 3 years PP.

I Rock, Size 00 or Not (Katy)

Bonnie (SOAM) Positive Body Image/Words of Enouragement, Postpartum, Second Pregnancy, Submissions 9 Comments

I rock, size 00 or not

I had a special photo shoot done with Gretchen McFarland Photography for a surprise birthday present for the Pilot. Family members may not want to look. I have always been a pretty confident person. I also
don’t have a lot of shame and for the most part could care less how people think of me. I was a ballet dancer & loved being on stage. When I had to quit ballet for a hip injury, I went to running. Running kept me in shape. I was running normally about 8 miles every other day and was planning on running the Marine Corps Marathon in Oct of 08. As soon as I felt better after twisting my knee by stepping on a dog, I found out I was pregnant and stopped running. This August will mark three years since my last run (I wasn’t medically cleared to run after giving birth to the Hoo, due to the same hip problems). I loved my body when running. I had muscles & definition. Abs. Great thighs. My husband loved me too. I like being in shape. Two kids later, yeah, not so much. I am still about 7-10lbs off from where I was pre-pregnancy.

-off subject tangent- Why can’t thin people be bothered by their own fat or unhealthiness? I feel so much like that if you aren’t overweight, you have no right to complain. And yes, thin people never have to go through the ridicule or whatnot that overweight people do. But losing weight should be more about just looking good; it should be about feeling good. Healthy. I have no doubt in my mind that there are some people my height with 20 extra lbs on them that can run a mile faster. I am so not in shape right now! And I hate that. -end rant-

I had ordered what I was going to wear weeks ago. When I tried it on before the shoot, I hated it all. I hated the way I looked. I didn’t like how some pieces cut into my now softer body. I felt like the
bottoms made my hips seem even wider, my butt bigger. I felt fat and unhealthy, far from the usual confident person I am. I wanted to be perfect for Pilot, back down to my size 00, with a rock hard body.
But I wasn’t. I was a tired mom of 2 who hasn’t been able to make it to the gym & who also gave birth just 3 months ago. I was thinking of Heidi Klum, who walked the runway what, 6 weeks after she gave birth?
Where were her hips? Where was her line from ribcage to hips dividing the softness of belly & loose skin from pregnancy? Or are Hollywood moms so above the rest of us that it never happens to them?

It isn’t that. I am a full time mom, in all ways. I don’t have a nanny (or hell, even a husband around) who I can pass the kids off to while I go work out. I don’t have a chef preparing me fresh, healthy meals every day. I am lucky if I can grab a piece of toast & some yogurt for breakfast. I live off sticks of Colby jack cheese, coffee, almond M&Ms, fruit & nuts throughout the day. I don’t have the money to spend on liposuction, spa treatments, and specialty creams…so why am I letting the constant swarm of media shatter my self-confidence? Why, when I am so vastly different from the women we see in media am I paying any attention to them? I am real, not some airbrushed, snipped, plastic, vapid woman on the cover of Star or Vogue. And more importantly, what would my girls think if they saw me like this? I never say anything negative about my appearance around them. I don’t want them to grow up thinking they have to be perfect in their looks, hearing their mother’s moaning over her own perceived imperfections. I want them to have a positive body image and to realize that they are beautiful no matter what size they fit in. The perfection they are swarmed with isn’t real, and I plan to do my best to make sure they know what goes into making the images they see. Real will always be more beautiful. The human body is a work of art. I don’t want them sitting in front of the mirror in their prom dress nearly in tears over the way it is cut, or being ashamed of their nakedness, picking apart their body until there is nothing left to love. Their body is a
gift from God and I want them to appreciate, use, and love every part of them, from the brain in their head down to their toes. I want them to shout proudly, “I love myself, no matter what Barbie/Vogue/gossip
magazines/E! Channel/advertisements tell me I should be!” The mass media has done such an excellent job of telling women that we suck, our bodies are inferior, and we need this weight loss fad, this cream,
this make up, these shoes, these pills, etc to make us this ‘perfect’ shallow shell of what we really are. We need to celebrate our bodies, not berate ourselves for perfection that is really just a false ideal to sell us junk.

I stopped tearing myself apart. I looked at myself in the mirror and said, “Fuck you media.” I rocked at the height of my running/working out days. I rock now. I walked in there wearing my 5-inch patent leather peep toe pumps with pride. I am a woman. I am a mother. And I am damn smokin’ hot, size 00 or not.

Originally posted here. Photographs here.

On How I Bought My Baby (Elizabeth)

Bonnie (SOAM) Belly, Postpartum, Pregnant, Second Pregnancy, Submissions 14 Comments

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

Bonnie (SOAM) Belly, Cesarean, Postpartum, Second Pregnancy, Submissions 7 Comments

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)

Bonnie (SOAM) Belly, Postpartum, Second Pregnancy, Submissions, Update 3 Comments

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

Confidant… Most Days (February Mama)

Bonnie (SOAM) Before Pregnancy, Belly, Child Loss, Postpartum, Pregnant, Second Pregnancy, Submissions 9 Comments

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

Will I Ever Feel Comfortable in My Body Again? (Anonymous)

Bonnie (SOAM) Belly, Breasts, Postpartum, Second Pregnancy, Submissions 11 Comments

I have two beautiful children who I love with ALL of my heart, but I hate the way my body has changed since having them. I often hear people say, “I love my stretch marks because when I look at them I am reminded of my children” I don’t look at it that way at all…I see only stretch marks with no emotional meaning attatched to them, other than how sad they make me feel. I wish that I could get back to my body before babies but it seems just so far off. I don’t feel comfortable in clothes and am constantly checking what I look like in the mirror. I try to only buy loose fitting blouses as I don’t want any attention paid to my midsection. My breasts have completely dropped after two pregnancies and breastfeeding two infants. Will I eventually just accept that this is the way I’m going to look? Will I get the honest motivation to do something about this? I don’t know…I guess only time will tell.

Age 24
2 pregnancies
10 months post partum

My New Body (Ashleigh)

Bonnie (SOAM) Belly, Postpartum, Second Pregnancy, Submissions 18 Comments

I have been cruel to my new body, berating it, resenting it, and comparing it to my “old” body. Which I yearn for every time my husband looks at me, every time I catch a glimpse of my own reflection. I tend to forget the level of contempt I held for my “old” body when it was the one I lived in. I want to change the way I view my body now, I want to appreciate the experiences which have shaped it and proudly proclaim adoration for it.

My hands which were once polished and smooth, filed and unblemished, are now chipped and calloused.But they still paint and caress, type, clap and sketch. They are just fuller now, full of laundry, dishes, tiny fingers, toys, blankies, binkies and graham crackers. At first glance, my hands are undistinguished, they don’t ooze of femininity, decorated and bejeweled, but my hands are important, they wipe and wash, they heal and cheer, they guide and protect. I love my new hands.

My arms are no longer slender and tan. They are plump and pale, frequently hidden by long sleeved shirts. But they have the power to fix things, to make everything better with an enveloping hug. They have the power to express love beyond compare, to ignite intimacy and create solidarity. I love my new arms.

My stomach is no longer flat or smooth. Its convex curves spill over my jeans, causing me constant frustration. But it is where my daughters grew, where I kept them safe until they were ready to enter the world. It is where they love to snuggle. The shallow pink ridges along the surface are a reminder of my greatest accomplishment. My stomach is soft to touch, a place my husband’s hand often sweeps across, a reminder of his love, a show of appreciation for the gifts my body given us. I love my new stomach.

My legs are no longer slender, they touch when I walk and are dimpled in places I wish were smooth. But my legs allow me to walk beside my husband, to run and play. My legs are strong, they allow me to lift both of my girls, to carry them, to jump with them, to chase them. I love my new legs.

My body is not perfect. It is no longer perky, or tan and or slender. But my body is strong, my body lives, my body gives life. I love my new body.

My New Tattoos (Anonymous)

Bonnie (SOAM) Cesarean, Mom over 30, No Photos (Story Only), Postpartum, Second Pregnancy, Submissions, Update 6 Comments

Age: 31
2 pregnancies/2 c-sections
20 months and 2 months

When I made my first submission I was in a great place and had finally accepted my new body. I was pregnant a month later (the first time we had unprotected sex) and enjoyed my second pregnancy just as much as the first – there’s something to be said for creating someone out of nothing…. Anyway, I gained just as much weight with this pregnancy (40lbs) but my body did very different things. My giant baby boy was born 11lbs 1oz with my first pregnancy. I had a couple stretch marks on my hips and some elephant skin on my belly but that was it. With my smaller little girl (9lbs 14oz) I got stretch marks all over the right side of my belly. I had been hoping for a vbac but my baby was in distress – every time I had a contraction her heartbeat went from 140 beats per minute to around 40. And do you know what upset me the most about having another c-section? Losing the giant scar I had from my first baby because he left so few marks on my body. The doctor had stapled me back together after my son was born, and the scar was probably 7 or 8mm wide in some places, and it had huge ridges and dents…. My new c-section scar is teeny tiny (I got stitches instead of staples), maybe a bit more than a hair wide. Except on one end, where I’ve still got a little bit of my baby boy tattoo left. And that’s what I’ve started calling all these special marks I have all over my body. My husband goes and gets a new tattoo every time he accomplishes something. Or wants to remember something. And he used to ask me if I was ever going to go get one. The other day I told him that my stretch marks and wrinkled skin and c-section scars are my tattoos. Even without them I’d never forget what I’ve accomplished or my wonderful little people, but I think these marks on my body are pretty darn special. I just really wish I knew which ones on my hips were from which kid :-)

Updated here.