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The first picture is one week before I delivered my daughter Kaia. I am 21 and she was my first pregnancy that lasted beyond the first trimester. She was born at home 8 August 2007 after 29 hours of labor and I would not have done it any other way. The next photos are my belly one, two and three weeks postpartum. During my pregnancy I was very careful about what I ate (I tracked every morsel on sparkpeople.com) but still managed to gain 48 pounds during my pregnancy. 13 pounds in the last two weeks alone – which I think must have been water weight because by two weeks postpartum I had lost 30 of the 48 pounds. I have to say, I have not been as horrified by the changes as I thought I would be, even the dreaded stretch marks aren’t bumming me out like I thought they would.

If someone would have told me, pre-baby, that someday I would actually consider any type of cosmetic surgery, I would have laughed. I considered myself to be a very strong advocate of natural beauty, and longed for the downfall of the abundant false and ridiculous cultural expectations of the female physique. I’d gone from 120 pounds to 200 in nine months. Obviously it was not all baby; but after 41 weeks of pregnancy at 5’2″ tall, polyhydramnios, a 9-and-a-half pound newborn, and an emergency c-section in addition to the excess weight gain – I found myself feeling completely drained of the pride and confidence I once had in my realistic form. I went form disgusted by the media to hypnotized, and soon was seriously considering saving up money for a tummy tuck and breast lift. Just when I was feeling particularly trapped in my own baggy flesh, I found this site. I felt joy swelling up into my throat as I browsed the pictures, feeling a sense of immense comfort and even feeling beautiful once more. I may have to lift inches of skin to even see the cesarean scar; and from 12 months of milking, my breasts are now also quite limp and point to the floor… but in truth, it’s a small price to pay for my amazing daughter. I can’t deny that I still sometimes feel horrible about the intense damage done to my appearance, it’s extremely different than it was before… But I do feel greatly relieved when I see that what has happened is normal. It’s such a shame that women must be made to feel like they’re “ruined” by doing what they’re bodies are built for. Thanks for this place, my spirits are so very lifted. It’s a wonderful thing that you’re doing here. My photos tell my story: 1 of my pre-baby body, 2 of my pregnant body, 2 of my postpartum body, and 1 of the wonderful outcome of my journey.

the first picture is me right before i got pregnant. the second is 2 months after giving birth to my nine and a half pound son.

I carried my twins full term-to 37 weeks. They were both healthy and we all left the hospital on the same day. Mason was born naturally first. He weighed 4lb 10oz. Connor was breech and the doctor couldn’t get him to flip so and hour and 4 min. later Connor was born by c-section. By the end of the first week I had already lost 25 of the 45 lbs. I had gained. These are pictures at 36 weeks pregnant, 3 weeks postpartum and of my beautiful babies at 3 weeks.

I first posted when i was 30 weeks pregnant. Baby Elisabeth Cait came into the world on July 27th, 2007 and weighed 9lbs, 10oz. No wonder my tummy was so big! Thankfully I was able to deliver naturally with no tearing or other complications. Already, my prepregnancy clothes fit me – but not the same way as before. Since I carried Elisabeth so high, it seems all of my tummy bulge is really high up, near my ribs. So jeans fit beautifully, but I with this bulge and my huge “nursing mom” boobs, I look really top heavy and strange. It doesn’t bother me one single bit though. I think I look fantastic considering all my body has done, and Elisabeth is truly a miracle baby. She wasn’t even supposed to be here, let alone be so healthy and vigorous! The first picture is of me the morning of Elisabeth’s birth – 40w0d. The other two are me 17 days later.

Updated here.

Its taken me months to come up with the courage to post my pictures.To be honest,seeing myself (even dressed)is something that usually makes me want to cry,even though my husband says that he thinks my body is beautiful. I was 18 when I had my son.I weighed in at 110lbs back then,I gained 20lbs throughout my pregnancy and a week after my c-section,I was back into my pre-pregnacy clothes and just by looking at my body,you couldent see that I had just had a baby at all.I used to love the compliments people gave me on my body and the way they would all say how they wished they had my genes…infact,I got so used to the attention,that I began to obsess about my body in order to keep people happy.I used to make myself sick if I had eaten too much,and sometimes I would just starve myself all together.. Even my family would coment on how lucky I was because when I walked down the street,all the boys would turn to get a better look. The relationship with my sons father came to an end soon after he was born,and when my son was 14 months old,I married my husband.He wanted us to have a child straight away,so we were over the moon when I got pregnant a few months after we married.I asumed that this time around would be the same as before and that I would bounce right back,so even when I gained 35lbs throughout my pregnancy,I didnt worry. My daughter was born almost 2 weeks over due via VBAC and I was over the moon..I felt complete. I dropped all my baby weight within a week (just as before) but a few months later (after starting on BC pills) I began to put on weight..8 years later,I weighed in (and still do) at 164lbs,and looking at myself in the mirror was a nightmare.Although I dont have stretch marks on my tummy,I have lots of celulite on my inner thighs and the tops of my arms are HUGE! My self confidence had totally gone and it was so hard to be intimate with my husband when all I wanted to do was cover myself up…I even started to question why on earth he was still with me.Peoples comments on my new shape were (and still are) cruel..Id get the “OH MY GOD!!! What happened to YOU!” when ever I bumped into someone I hadent seen in a while,and my own family seem ashamed at the fact that I dont turn heads any more. My husband and I have been trying for our third child for over a year now,and right now,the pain of not being able to conceive again is alot worse than the pain that I feel when I see my body. Iv been on Clomid,Im currently on Metformin (I have PCOS) and with each day that passes,I am slowly beggining to realise how lucky I am to have this “post-partum” body at all,especially since I am having such difficulties now. I should have treasured my pregnant body instead of selfishly thinking about how it would look afterwards…I realise now that maybe god is making me wait so that the next time around,I will trully apreciate what my body can do.I like to think that I will get pregnant again and Iv promised myself that what ever happens to my body,I will love and treasure what it did and not worry about the scars. I never realised getting pregnant could be so hard,but now that I know,I can look at post partum bodies and think “wow…that is trully beautiful.I wish I could do that again”. No matter what a woman looks like after she has her child,I feel that its a miracle that she were able to get to that point at all.. This site is such a huge help and I am so proud of the women in the pictures.I think you are all beautiful :)

As a woman it’s no secret that weight has always played a pivotal role in my self-image. It was never just my weight, though. I’ve also struggled with bad acne for over 20 years, very thin & fine hair and rippling cellulite (even at 105 lbs). After my pregnancies, when the stretch marks came along, it simply added insult to my already depleted self-imagery. My youngest is 6 years old and I am still coming to terms with my post pregnancy body. I had no idea it would be this hard. As I’ve grown more secure as a woman I have found self love for who I am on the inside, and I do have days where I am content with who I am on the outside a well. But it is a constant and never ending battle to force myself into believing that I really am pretty when all I see is a marred body. There’s also the raging jealousy. I see women, online and in real life, with babies/kids who have these wonderful post baby bodies and I scream inside, “WHY NOT ME?!” I feel grossly cheated. With all the other body issues I have -issues that have caused me sizable self loathing- it seems cruel that I wasn’t given at least one reprieve. Of course, I feel like a terrible person for even thinking how unfortunate I am because I know there are people with real body problems that extend beyond the scope of vanity. Knowing that, however, does little to soothe the soul when every glance in the mirror is a reminder of the pain inside. I don’t want to look good for a mother. I want to look good as a woman, period. But I am a mother. And I do have a mother’s body. I have stretch marks extending down from my boobs to my thighs. I have excess skin draped across my abdomen which I tuck discreetly into my jeans. I have boobs that sag half way down my torso and then fall into my armpits when I lay flat on my back. I have cellulite that extends further down my legs with each passing year despite the cardio, squats and leg lifts. My hair is growing thinner with each year and despite using every product under the sun for acne (both OTC and prescribed) I still break out every single day. My only comfort is in knowing that I clean up nice. With the right bra, the right clothes, the right concealer and the right hair products, I can pull off being attractive. I literally feel a sense of being high on the days when I can pull myself together nicely, but it’s always overshadowed by the thought that underneath it all I’m still a mess. When I take a running tab of my body flaws I wonder how it is ever going to be possible to love myself completely when there is so much that causes me sadness. True beauty first radiates from the inside, yes, but outer beauty sure does help! So, every day I’ve been trying a little harder to love myself more than the day before. Some days are better than others. Some days I feel alive and sexy and wonderful and other days I’m vulnerable to self-deprecation. In the end, this is me. This is the only me I am ever going to have and if that means really trying to embrace the very things I hate the most, then so be it. I can no longer continue to be disgruntled all the time. It’s exhausting and detracts from the good person I know I am inside. Yes, I’ve embarked on a journey of self-acceptance and unwavering love. And I hope to one day be able to accept the compliments tossed my way with staunch gratefulness. More than that, I want to believe them to be true! If, however, before then, I find myself in the company of several thousand extra dollars you can bet your sweet ass that I will be exercising my right to dial-a-surgeon.

I love seeing all of the pictures of beautiful bellies (pre- and post-, all shapes and sizes) with stretch marks. I tried using the cocoa butter that so many women seem to swear by, and as you can see it didn’t help. I used to joke that our baby would be a little demon-child, because of the little horn-like marks that came up out of where I used to have a navel piercing, and then the ones at the bottom looked like flames, esp. at the peak of itchiness when they were very dark. Happily, our now two-year-old is no more demonic than any two-year-old. :) Anyway, I’m 4 weeks pregnant again, so it’ll be interesting to see what happens this time around. Amongst the mothers I know, I feel a bit alone in having such extensive stretch marks, so thank you to everyone for sharing yours!