Submissions

Still not quite where I want to be (Kris)

Bonnie (SOAM) Belly, First Pregnancy, Postpartum, Submissions 3 Comments

Age: 28
Years postpreg: 2.5
# of children: 1

At the age of 24, i was single, in college, and living alone in a new town. I was enjoying the single life since it was the first time in my adult life that i had been single for a significant period of time. In fact, I was entertaining the idea of committing to a life a spinster hood. However, I met my son’s dad and after knowing him under two months, i found out i was pregnant. I wanted to keep my baby, so we decided to give us a try and he moved in with me. Within 4 months, i realized this man i was about to raise a child with was a severe alcoholic, and not a very nice one at that. But i stuck it out in hopes that everything would just work itself out, which i know now was stupid. I was in a relationship that put me in a constant state of stress, always worried that id come home to a hostile drunk, not having a supportive partner to help me in this difficult period of my life, feeling unloved, and completing my junior year in college. So i turned to food. I was gaining close to 8lbs a month, so at 5’0, i went from my prepregnancy weight of 135 to 205 by the time my son was born. I was miserable. I felt so ugly.

My son was born via csection after being two weeks over due and a failed induction. After he arrived, my weight stayed around 178. The first few months of his life were difficult, i tried to work on my health and getting back in shape, but the combination of my senior year in college and an unpleasant homelife drained me of all my energy. When my son was six months old, i finally realized i needed to leave my son’s father, so i moved us into a new apartment and i graduated college. Since then, I’ve worked housekeeping jobs and watched my son grow into a beautiful person who i love more than anything in the world. 2.5 years later and i am finally committing to getting healthy and getting my life on track. i am working out 3-5 days a week and eating better while working on my application for grad school. So far I’ve lost 10lbs, but I’m worried that my tummy, which used to be my favorite feature, is going to always look gross and saggy no matter how much weight i lose:(

The photos i am posting are of me 2.5 years postpregnancy and168lbs. I’d love to hear if anyone knows if with diet and exercise, i can get my tummy somewhat back to normal or if I’ll need to consider surgery.

A Do-Over (Megan)

Bonnie (SOAM) Belly, Postpartum, Second Pregnancy, Submissions, Update 4 Comments

Previous post here.

Age: I’m 25
Number of Pregnancies & Births: 2 Pregnancies & Two births (3.5 yrs & 3 weeks old)

I was terrified to have another baby after my first. For all kinds of reasons: I didn’t want to get more stretchmarks (more! how would that even be possible?! I felt covered already.), I hated being pregnant the first time (I just felt fat and ugly the whole time and wasn’t too excited to re-live those feelings), I didn’t want to have to lose a bunch of weight afterwards again (it took me 6 months to even feel semi normal again last time), I’d hated all of the comments from people when I went overdue with my first (“You haven’t had that baby YET?!”) etc.

Long story short, despite all of my reasons, I really wanted my son to have a sibling so we decided to start trying for another when he was 2.5 and boom! Two months later, the pee sticks showed pregnant. I was simultaneously thrilled and scared.

How would this time be any different? Would I completely lose myself again?

Then I remembered the post I’d written on here when my son was a year old. Looking at it again was like a pep talk from my self. I COULD have a better second pregnancy! I COULD enjoy it! It was all up to me and my attitude/habits. And guess what? I did.

I took my own advice: I walked daily and I ate decently (this time I gained 28 pounds instead of 53).

I tried to dress in a way that made me feel confident and showed off my bump. And you don’t have to spend a fortune to feel good! I went to thrift stores and wore hand me downs (but only the ones that made me feel pretty!).

I grew my hair out to a length that made me happy.

I actually let people include me in pictures.

I celebrated milestones.

All in all, this pregnancy flew by and although I went overdue by almost 2 weeks (oh the comments I got this time!), I let myself enjoy being pregnant. Having my son involved made it such a special time that I want to remember forever.

Do I look like a supermodel now? Nope. Do I absolutely love my body all the time now? No way. BUT I now know, I look like the mother of two amazing children who I love more than anything and THAT’S the look I’m going for. My husband loves me and more importantly, I love myself. I also realize now that it takes time to get back to “normal” (if there even is such a thing) after having a baby. I’m in no rush.

I’m so incredibly grateful for the community of women on here who let each other know daily it’s OK if becoming a mother changed you! It’s supposed to. We’re here to build each other up and I love it. Thank you mamas, keep doing what you’re doing!

These pics are of me at 2.5 weeks postpartum after my second. I really want to start eating cleaner and getting back into the swing of doing Pilates daily but for now, my hobbies include sleeping (whenever I can!) and nursing. :)

I have a not-so-depressed tummy now. (Claire)

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

2 pregnancy boys aged 4 and 2years 6 months.

Previous post here.

After alot of hard work ive lost a further 10lbs and currently weight 128lbs i wish i was 100% happy with the way i looked but i would still love to loose another 14lbs and tone up more before summer. All mums know that having kids and being a full time mum does not leave alot of “me” time. I speak to alot of mums and they all wish they had more time to work out and tone up.

I have finally got a routine where i can fit in a work out and i really feel great for it. I have been to rock bottom about the way my stomach has changed since having children and gone through so many emotions. I am an expert on tummy tuck procedures so much so that i could probably preform one in my living room .lol and read about every magical cream or diet on the planet. I have learned during the past year though that you need to work extra hard to get what you want so with my zumba,sits ups and cardio i hope i am on my way to a “normal” stomach. Its getting there i guess. I am very proud of myself i have lost over 50lbs since my second child do any other mums out there feel like they will never be happy no matter what they do? much love xxxx

It’s not “no big deal.” It’s domestic violence. (Anonymous)

Bonnie (SOAM) Spousal/Partner Abuse, Submissions 20 Comments

Age:24
Pregnancies: 3
Births: 2
1.5 years postpartum

I have been married for over 5 years. My current husband found me when I was only 15, and he was 19. By the time I was 16 and he was 20 he got me legally emmancipated and we moved in together. By 18 I was pregnant and we were married. I have never know anything else. Besides a brief 6 month period where I escaped in 2006 I have been with him every day of my adult life. During that time, I was completely manipulated, and severely abused. It seems surreal to say that now. During the relationship, I never saw myself as a victim. I didn’t see his behavior as abuse. It was like a cult. To the people in the cult, they don’t realize how crazy it is, they go right on drinking the koolaid. He was very persuasive, charismatic, and very good at manipulation. I belived this behavior was normal. I belived he was only ‘playing around’ when he would slap me across the face for no reason, punch me in the leg, slap my back, rear end or legs hard enough to leave welts so severe you could see every pad of every finger. Kicking was just joking. Throwin things at me was to get my attention or prove a point, and he SAID he didn’t mean to hit me in the face. He was aiming next to me, and missed. He didn’t MEAN to break my nose with that snow shovel out of the blue, he was trying to joke with his friend next to me. It was an accident. I believed I was fortunate to have a husband that wanted me home with the kids, and didn’t want me to go to school or get a job. I belived the perfectly logical explanations why I didn’t need a drivers license, or a debit card, or a car. I didn’t get my license until I was 20, when he had been unemployed for so long I HAD to go to school and work to pay the bills. That was the period of most freedom. I was allowed to get a car from my friend, I was finally allowed to get a drivers license, I started going to the community college and working on campus. It’s only years later that I realized this was the period of time where he was involved in a serious, year long affair with my ‘friend.” It started when she was only 17, if I remember right. He needed me out of the house, and the bills paid. Once he got another job, he talked me into dropping out and quitting. And it all sounded logical. It all sounded reasonable. When I found out about the affair, he told me that ‘until death parts us’ is a lifelong vow, and if I ever want a divorce I had better kill him first, because he would take it as an invitation to murder me. And somehow, that sounded romantic at the time. He had us get matching ‘until death’ tattoos.
After the affair, I became pregnant with our second son, who had a congenital heart defect. I went into premature labor, and had to be flown across the state to the major hospital, where they managed to stop labor and keep me pregnant. I was stuck there until he was due, and after he was born, while he had two major surgeries. During that time, he was at home with our preschool son. He became incredibly, innapropriately close with the babysitter, who was also his ‘squire’ in the medieval reenactment group he was in. She was only 16. While I was out of town, he got her drunk, possibly drugged her, and sexually assaulted her. She was too afraid to say anything, she couldn’t remember most of it, and he told her if she said anything I would never leave him, I wouldn’t believe her, and she was just going to loose a friend. She kept quiet, and just stopped hanging out. I had my suspicions, but no way to prove the terribly ugliness I suspected. A few weeks later, she found out she was pregnant. She was incredibly relieved when her daughter was born, the spitting image of her ex boyfriend, and not my husband.

And all along, the slapping, kicking, biting, punching and screaming obscenities continued. And all the time I minimized it as he did, justified it, ignored it or just went with it. I rarely complained. After all, it may hurt really bad when he randomly bites you hard enough to bruise, or shoves you and forcibly dry humps you while laughing in front of everyone to humiliate you. But if you argue, or fight back, it is just so much worse. Then he is mad, before he was joking, but now YOU are the one who must be ‘cranky.’ and then he is angry and yelling and it makes it much worse. Better to just not give him the attention, like a child throwing a tantrum. After all, when he gets mad, he makes people suffer. Once, he got in an argument with the other members of his medieval club. They chose him to host an event, but they wanted to use a different park than the one he chose, so the people coming from out of town could use the showers. When he didn’t get his way, he marched right down there and burned those to the ground, just to spite them. He covered it in random gang graffiti, so no one would suspect it had anything to do with the medieval reenactment group that rented the park the next day. He not only bragged about it, but demanded I immediately wash his gasoline covered clothing and duffel bag.

When my youngest turned one, we bought a house. First time home owners. There was a period of relative peace. Then after about 6 months he starts disapearing all the time. Won’t tell you where he is, won’t tell you anything, just leaves. After a few days of this, you come home to find him drunk, asleep on the couch, and some woman’s belt on the coffee table. Turns out he has been secretly talking to a lawyer about divorce. He spent those days hanging out at the babysitters work. Oh thats right, she just turned 18. He would wait there until she closed with his friends, then insist she come over to hang out with all her old ‘pals.’ She comes over, thinking everyone will be there. but it’s just him. He pushes her to drink, she gets frightened, and leaves.

I called her, and finally got the whole story. When confronted with the allegations of statutory rape and adultery, he goes crazy. Tells me I can keep the house or the kids, but not both. Tries to kick me out of the house. Then apologizes. Then makes obscene and frightening requests sexualy, says he is just not satisfied. Then Tells me he has been having dreams of burning everything down, that he dreams about killing me, that he just wants to hurt someone all the time. He says he feels he is being called by god, that the apocalypse is coming soon, he can feel it. He says he has a duty to fulfill, and he can’t be a husband and father and a soldier of god as well.

Now I am really scared. I beg him to take the guns out of the house, he has a small arsenal. 2 AK 47’s with 200 round drums, a 9mm, a double barrelled shotgun, a 410 shotgun, a 22 rifle and a high powered hunting rifle. He has a permit to carry at all times, and he refuses to get them out of the house. I beg him to go to treatment, but he says they will see him as a danger and refuses, concerned about his gun permit rights. I start calling the hotline, and develop a safety plan. I take the kids out of state to my sisters for two weeks, hoping he will calm down. When I get back, he isn’t even home. He spent that time out of town at his sisters house, hanging out with her 17 year old step daughter. When he gets back, he acts like nothing happened. Then he unceremoniously dumps me, via text message. The same day we were going to spend the weekend with his family, and the 17 year old.

He won’t move out, says he can’t find a place he can afford and pay child support. I go back to school full time, trying to keep busy. I start the process of getting state liscnesced to open a day care, so i can pay the bills. I am almost done with my degree in Early Childhood Development. I give him 3 months to move out. The violence escalates. He tells me I am no catch, that just because I have good grades doesn’t mean I am smart. He tells me no one really cares about me, that everyone only pretends too, but everything I tell them they report back to him he says. He says no one would put up with me the way he has. He is cruel, and humiliates me often in front of his cronies. He always has a group of his friends, who I THOUGHT were also my friends, hanging around, laughing at his jokes. The cult. He gets the 17 year old emancipated, just like he did with me, then moves her into my house. I try to warn her, I try to help her. he was even bragging about how he was going to get with her to me, over text, which I show her. She swear she will be careful, but when she moves into his moms house (becasue she is now disowned by her family) he moves in with her. Now they are shacked up together. I finally call the cops on him a few days before he moves out. he bit the back of my hand so hard, out of the blue, to get a glass of egg nog I was holding, that I had to go to urgent care. I was worried the tendons were permenently damaged, the hand swelled up like crazy and bruised really bad. He is furious with me for going to the doctors, he told me not to. As soon as I get home he starts hitting me with a cup against the back of my head, where it wont leave marks. Then he tells me I am a terrible mother, and that I left a pair of childrens scissors out while I was gone. He shows me a picture of our baby holding them. He must have given them to him for his little pose. I argue that they were put away, up high, in a closed container, in a closed shelf. They are safety scissors, and blunt tipped. He tells me to hold out my hand, and I do, assuming he is going to give them to me. Instead, he puts my hand in the scissors and crushes them closed, to cut the side of my hand. “Told you they were dangerous, if you ever open your business kids are going to die.” I run to my room in tears and call the hotline. They tell me to be sure he can’t hear me. I am terrified he might have overheard me calling them. I go downstairs, and he slams the front door. I immediately hang up. He suddenly says “Come on kids, we are going for a ride!” with an evil glare in my direction. I am panicking. I ask him where he is going, he wont tell me. he just says ‘on a little drive.” I ask him when he is bringing them back, their bedtime is in half an hour. He wont tell me, he just says “We’ll be back when we are back.” I am so afraid, but the kids are so excited, and I don’t want to scare them. He leaves in a huff, and I call the police. I explained the situation, they came and took a statement, took pictures of my bruises, the cuts, the scissors. They tell me to file for an order of protection then, But I know if I do there is no going back. He will kill me.

He brings the kids back, and is angry that I was even upset.

He finally moves out. The day he does, he shoves me in the shed and locks me in. I pound on the door. The 17 year old lets me out. I don’t call the police, because he is finally LEAVING, and I just want him to go.

The next week, he steals my cell phone. Uses it to intercept messages from the DV advocate.

I file for an order of protection, but since he has been tipped off, he shows up that night and takes the kids before I can file. He forces his way in the door, in front of my girl friends who had come over to help me paint my living room. He screams threats, even has his mother come to the door and scream at me. That i am a ‘drama queen’ and a ‘stupid bitch.” my friend called the police, because even she was scared, and her 2 year old was with us. I thought because he didn’t live here he couldn’t force entry. The police tell me he has every right to come here whenever he wants, day or night, while I am sleeping even, because it is marital property. They tell him to leave, but he already has my kids, and he can come back.

I have friends stay in shifts so I am not alone. It’s the weekend, so I can’t get my protection order until monday morning. He never brings the kids back. He ignores calls, hangs up on me, hides them at friends houses, keeps my older son out of school. I am sick with worry, my oldest is autistic, and that kind of thing is so hard for him to handle. First thing monday I am in the courthouse, but he FOLLOWS ME THERE. I was so afraid, I called security and asked them to escort me to my car. He tries to file one against ME the same day! He says I injured my hand when I ‘backhanded’ him! That I cut MYSELF with scissor in an argument! That I am neglecting my children, and partying all the time (I DON’T drink, at all.) and that I am not feeding or dressing them. The judge signs both, but orders custody to me until the hearing. Finally, the police go and collect my kids, and bring them home.

Now, I don’t know what to expect next. they denied his order, but only extended mine for 7 days. They said I needed a mutual restraining order, not an order of protection. But it doesnt get enforced the same way, and is only good until the divorce is final. I finally get a pro-bono lawyer, because I have no resources. He says we need to fight for the order of protection, and not to file for a mutual restraining order. They order that his visitation be supervised, at least until his trail for DV assault. I am so afraid I will leave my next hearing with no order of any kind. He day after the hearing is his next pre-trail court appearance for the assault against me. I can’t believe he is going to try and say I did those things to myself. He always said, no one would believe me. And he is trying his hardest to make sure of that. I am trying my best, but the long hard journey of custody and divorce is imminent, I filed for divorce the same day. I have an escape plan, I have a suitcase packed in case I need to evacuate. I have code words to call 911 with family. I am having my kids stay safely away from the house for the hearing, in case he comes straight here. If I leave that courthouse with nothing, I am gonna pick up my kids and go straight to the shelter until I have something that will at least force the police to arrest next time he comes here screaming threats and breaking in. I am afraid all the time. I am afraid everytime I see an unfamiliar car parked outside. I am afraid everytime I hear someone drive down the alley. I am afraid every time my phone rings. He came to court with his mother, the 17 year old, and two of his cult members. All people that have SEEN him hit me, kick me, throw things at me and bite me. And he swears in front of a judge that he never has, right in front of some of the only people that witnessed the times he is being charged for. I am afraid for my kids. I am afraid my house if going to be burned down. I am afraid my tires will be slashed. I am afraid my car will be stolen, and I won’t even be able to report it because the registration for that one is in his name. I am constantly, constantly afraid. And on top of all this, I am still going to school full time. I still have bills to pay. I still have two kids to take care of. People keep telling me I will be stronger.

I don’t feel stronger.

I just feel scared. And stupid. And stressed. And alone. And like no one will believe me, that everyone will lie for him. I can’t event take the kids and hide except for a shelter, because legally I can’t change the residence of the children, the only exception is the shelter. I can’t get a new apartment and hide, I have no real income besides social security and student loans, and it would be a violation of the court order when you file for divorce to stay with friends, even if I was willing to put my autistic 5 year old through that.
The scariest part is, this isn’t even the most dangerous time.

The most dangerous part will be when the divorce is final. He hasn’t violated the protection order yet, because he still thinks he can take the house and full custody. When he doesnt get what he wants (and my lawyer assures me I have nothing to worry about in that department) and he fells he has nothing left to loose, that is when I am in the most danger. He was ordered to surrender his firearms, but he told the judge he sold them to pay for a lawyer. Which really means they are sitting at his friends house. I know exactly where, and I know he still has access to them. He probably wont use those, too traceable to him. No, he will probably break in through a window since I changed the locks, and kill me with one of the 100’s of knives he has collected. Or maybe just mutilate my face the way he fantasized about. Or burn my house down with me and the kids in it.

They said I would be safe, that if I reported him and got out and filed for divorce and got an order of protection, that they would protect me.

But they aren’t. I don’t know what to do. They say I am doing everything the right way, by not doing anything illegal, and following through with they system. But I might walk out of court tomorrow with no piece of paper to protect me, and have to run. He convinced me I was helpless, and I sure feel like it now.

One picture is of my hand, after he bit me. One picture is of my, trying to take a picture of the ‘until death’ tattoo on my wrist. Ironically, the same hand he cut.

Every experience has its first. (Desiree Lynnette)

Bonnie (SOAM) Before Pregnancy, Belly, First Pregnancy, PCOS, Pregnant, Submissions 3 Comments

I am 22 years old, 23 in October of this year. I am currently 26 weeks pregnant, and nothing could have prepared me for pregnancy. It has been an amazing, emotional, and at times miserable journey. When I found out that I was pregnant is was somewhat expected, but at the same time a pretty big shocker. I was diagnosed with PCOS at 17, which meant nothing to me at that time. I was 17, I didn’t really care that much is my period was random or that I couldn’t easily get pregnant. About a month before I got pregnant me and my wonderful fiance decided that although we weren’t ready to begin trying vigorously, we were still ready to make a commitment to a child to come into our lives and relationship. Coincidentally the Friday 5 days after our conversation I got pregnant. We took the test, and both of us were very happy to be bringing a child into our world. I was also very nervous and excited about the entire pregnancy experience up until the morning sickness came into play about 2 weeks after the positive test. I had morning (ALL DAY) sickness for the rest of the first trimester. It got so bad that I had to stop working because of how hard it was getting to be to work through it. Throwing up in a Wal-mart bathroom every 2-3 hours was not exactly my cup of tea, I am much happier now focusing on school work and resting my growing body. My fiance has done an amazing job supporting me and ensuring my comfort through out this entire process. One I hit the second trimester everything changed. My skin became extremely dried out, like alligator skin over here! My acne got out of control like crazy, and not just on my face! My boobs have grown from a B to nearly DD (I lost about 100 pounds about 2/3 years ago and went from a D to a B, so it’s not actually that foreign for me to have larger breast. Still crazy sore and painful though! I stopped throwing up (THANKFULLY!) and started eating so, so much! Pre-pregnancy I weighed only 115 at 5’5 and hardly ever had three meals a day, now I have at least four small meals! I now weigh 150 at 26 weeks, which my Dr. is happy with but I HATE!) I was very very happy with my body before, and I pretty much hate it right now. I am always tired, so I hardly ever (Ok, NEVER) workout. I am no longer working, so I pretty much sit around on the couch, cook dinner, and do school work everyday. I feel like the laziest person that ever lived. My body is killing me. I feel like my boobs and butt have gotten 5 times too large. My stomach is way to big! My skin is about as good as it was the year i hit puberty, and my over all physical self esteem is completely shot! I love being pregnant, and I love feeling my baby move around and kick me. I feel guilty sometimes about how down on my physical appearance I am. I always see pregnant woman and sites praising their pregnant bodies. To me it just seems abnormal and huge, especially after working so hard to have to look so good before I got pregnant! I hope that I am not the only pregnant woman that feels this way. Well, I am about to go into the third trimester and I know that it is going to be yet another adventure in this 9 month long never ending journey. I wanted to share my personal story of how it has been so far. From changes in medicine, to appearance, emotions, and self esteem; it’s been a long journey so far. I hope that in this last trimester I can learn to love this body a little bit more, and if not at least I am in the last stretch of this particular transformation. I don’t think I am very well prepared for postpartum body changes, but hopefully I can start shrinking again soon and get back to working our and taking care of my body. I can’t wait to hold this little boy that’s growing in there, and even though I hate the way it looks I hope he is nice a comfortable and happy inside my huge tummy! I love him with all my heart, it’s not like anything I have ever felt before. This first pregnancy has thrown a lot of curve balls at me, but I am happy to take it and keep learning in this first time experience. I know that including my son, I will gain a great amount from this experience. Far beyond what any other life experience could give me. Thank you for reading my story, I hope that you are all doing better than me with your body transformations!

Two pre-pregnancy photos and a few pregnancy pictures.

~Age: 22
~Number of pregnancies and births: First Pregnancy

Old Before My Time (Anonymous)

Bonnie (SOAM) Belly, Cesarean, Four or More Pregnancies, Postpartum, Submissions 22 Comments

Age 33 yrs
4 children
breastfed
all c-sections

My youngest is 10 months old, I had my first child 14 yrs ago at 21 yrs old. I usually avoid looking in the mirror when naked My stomach hangs and I have tried many exercises it will never be the same which is disappointing. Whats worst, my breasts are deflated and feel soft. My nipples are also stretched and very long. I know this is not attractive and has hindered my sex life. Taking off my shirt just makes me want to cringe. As well, this affects how I feel in my clothes especially since cleavage shirts are the in thing. I even went for a bra fitting recently and the sales lady I know said “why didn’t you stop breastfeeding?” I always wanted to wear a bikini which I feel I missed out on but, instead I recently got a sexy one piece from pinup girlclothing.com. I wore it swimming…no excitement from my bf…. all I could think is: “If I were wearing a bikini you wouldn’t be able to take your eyes off of me”. Well, retired that! I feel old and deflated however, I am at a decent weight which is good. My man claims he has no problem with my bod but I have caught him looking at porn specifically, of large chested women which blew my self esteem out the window and made me not believe him when he does compliment. I also get angry at the Drs. who kept giving a c-sections not telling the physical repercussions on the body. I am also angered by society there is no way, in my opinion, a man would buy a magazine with a bunch of women with sagging breasts and stretch marks although this is reality albeit a harsh one. I love my children and am thankful for them. Just don’t know how to get some self confidence back….

Missing You Always and Forever (Anonymous)

Bonnie (SOAM) No Photos (Story Only), Postpartum, Submissions, Update 6 Comments

2 pregnancies/ 2 boys
28 years old

Original post here.

Dear Mom,

I miss you everyday. I miss your beautiful smile, your laugh and being able to talk to you about anything.

Christmas this year just wasn’t the same without you. Last year was the first year without you and it was very emotional and kind of a blur. But this year it was almost like I had lost not one but two parents. Dad has a girlfriend, she moved in, in September. I haven’t been to your house since then. I actually haven’t talked to dad much since then either. I don’t like who he chose to keep his mind veering in your direction. She is only five years older than Adam, not that age has anything to do with me not liking her I just find it weird. We don’t trust her, dad first mentioned her only 4 months after you died. Dad sticks up for her all the time saying “she doesn’t have her 7 year old daughter because her ex and the judge are out to get her”everyone’s out to get her, it’s like she hypnotized him or something. He is spending on things that she wants to decorate your house with. I can’t go there, it’s to hard, it’s not home anymore. Scott moved to Nova Scotia with his girlfriend so he wasn’t here for chirstmas either. We had supper at Jenn’s on Christmas day instead of your house. There is just so much change in such a small time.

I’m scared of getting older and having to make important decisions and watching people I love die. Good- bye are the hardest words to ever say, that is why I never did with you. I told you that it was ok if you needed to rest. I was so scared to leave your bed side, worried all the time that you might go and I wasn’t there. I wanted to climb into bed with you but was to scared I would hurt you. So instead I held your hand, talked to you (I know you could hear me) and played music. I wish I was stronger for you and there for you more. I regret everyday that I wasn’t at your house everyday helping you and talking to you, soaking everything that I miss up. You guys kept saying you could fight it, you would beat it. I had a feeling from the start, it spread to fast. I tried to see you everyday when it got near the end, brought flowers, visited, helped where I could, and cried at your side.

I feel so selfish, you just wanted to live and I want my body back. I still look in the mirror everyday and wish I looked like I did before I had kids. I still cry most days wishing I wasn’t depressed, anxious, or feeling alone even when I’m not. I don’t know how to get through this, and I want to talk to you so bad. B is 7 already, I hate that they won’t know you more and you aren’t here to see them grow. I didn’t care if you were over weight or had thinning hair, you were (are) my mom and friend and I didn’t see those things as I do on myself. So in reality my kids probably don’t either so it really shouldn’t matter. I know you said that J loves me and I should let it go, I just can’t. I still get anxiety when we have sex (he might feel the stretch marks, extra skin or a roll), and yet at the same time I’m wondering why he doesn’t want sex more often. Is he as repulsed by me as I am with myself? Me and Shelley (my therapist) have both told him that I need him to compliment me more and show more affection. It happens for about a week after the talk and then lingers off. I know I don’t believe it now when he does compliment me but my hopes are that someday I will. I think he feels obligated to do it which feels even worse. And I think he holds off on sex until he really really wants it because he doesn’t find me attractive anymore. Just after having B he told me I wasn’t as attractive as I was before, and to this day I can’t get it out of my head. I wish I was stronger like you.

I hope they play music where you are so you can get dressed up and put your dancing shoes on. I hope you are watching over us and proud of who I am. I have made it one year and five months without you, It has been extremely hard but even when I thought I couldn’t, I did.

Sincerely, you daughter who loves you deeply and misses you always and forever xoxoxoxoxo

Nowhere Else to Turn (Anonymous)

Bonnie (SOAM) Belly, Butt, First Pregnancy, Postpartum, Submissions 17 Comments

I had only been dating my boyfriend for 3 months when we found out I was pregnant. I was on depo for 5 years, took antibiotics, then freaked because I forgot about the effect that antibiotics have on BC, so I took Plan B. Still got pregnant. I never wanted children. I had no desire to be a mother. I panicked when the test came out positive. All I could think about was how big I was going to get. As the months went by, and the number on the scale kept getting bigger and bigger, I just could not wait to not be pregnant anymore. Everyone kept telling me that the 65 pounds I gained would just fall off, because my son is my first. I was one of the lucky ones who did not get one single stretch mark. However, I got an ass full of cellulite, as well as cottage cheese thighs. I noticed cellulite on my calves too. What gives! Anyway.. Two weeks postpartum I stepped on the scale, and noticed that I had lost 30 pounds, and I was at 205 pounds. So, I was hopeful that what everyone said about the weight falling off was true. Lies. I am now nearly 6 months PP, and am just now starting to lose weight. I am at 192.5 today. It isn’t because I am exercising, or watching what I eat. It is because I just flat out, do not eat. I eat only when my boyfriend is around, and very little at that. This is where the problem starts. All I can think about, is how disgusting my body is. Never mind that it carried, grew, nourished, and nurtured an absolutely adorable, funny, amazing baby. That just does not impress me. Pregnancy destroyed my body. Not just my skin, but my hair, teeth, and nails. Everything about me just absolutely repulses me. I found out my boyfriend was visiting a website that promotes teenage porn. He says that he didn’t know that the girls were underage, but it is QUITE obvious. He was viewing videos of girls masturbating. Which, has made me feel even worse. He has apologized incredibly, and vows to never view porn all together. Which, I don’t know if I believe him. He says that he only wants me, but my warped mind can’t help but think that if this were true, then why does he feel he needs to watch videos of 17 year olds shoving dildos in their vaginas? Might I also add that he made an account with a questionable website where he tried to view live webcams of girls masturbating. Let me make this clear. Pre-pregnancy, I had NO PROBLEM with porn. I watched it, we watched it together, and I had no problem with him watching it. I’m just incredibly insecure now, and am in a very fragile state. I can’t even watch a television show that has pretty women in it with him, or even by myself for that matter, because it makes me very uncomfortable, and all I can think about is how much my body disgusts me. I know that my train of thought is fucking ridiculous, and that “I’m beautiful no matter what,” but how do I make myself believe that? I just so badly want to be OKAY with myself. I constantly beat myself up. I cry every day. I can’t even look in the mirror without thinking how ugly I am. I was so vivacious, optimistic, fun, and bubbly before I got pregnant, and now I feel like nobody wants to be around me because I am such a drag. I fear that my new found pessimism will drive my boyfriend away. I feel like I am no fun. I can’t go a whole day without being in a bad mood. No matter how hard I try to just be OPTIMISTIC, something happens that just destroys that. My moods are like a light switch. I tried anti-depression medicine, but it did not help. I tried talking to family and friends, and they all said the same shit, “You’re beautiful no matter what.” Frankly, I’m sick of hearing that. I need someone who can whole heartedly relate to me, who has gotten over their funk, to give me advice on how to get over this state of sadness and evilness. I want to feel like ME again. I want to be able to go to the store with my boyfriend, without feeling like he is comparing me to every single woman there, thinking “I wish she looked like that.” I have no idea how to change this, but it needs done. I want to believe my boyfriend when he tells me, several times a day, how beautiful I am. I want to feel NORMAL.

Oh, and might i add, that my baby boy is my most proud achievement. When ever he smiles at me, I can’t help but get a huge smile. He is the only thing that is getting me through life right now. Please help me. I need a strangers advice <3 ~Age: 29 ~Number of pregnancies and births: 1 pregnancy, 1 birth ~The age of your children, or how far postpartum you are: 5 months, and 5 months pp [gallery]

33 Years Old, Nine Months PP, Life After C-Section (Anonymous)

Bonnie (SOAM) Cesarean, First Pregnancy, No Photos (Story Only), Postpartum, Submissions 13 Comments

Some of my wisest mom friends shared with me that it’s best to NOT have a birth plan…I shouldve listened to that little feeling tugging on my gut! Ah well…se la vi!!

I was initially soo upset (combined with hormones post partum!!) about having a cestion…I had my heart set on a vbirth with no drugs…but my baby turned sunny side up when I was in labor!!! It was soooo painful that I had to get an epidural. Then because her vitals were fine they let me try pushing for 5 hours in a variety of positions…yes even on my hands and knees! They would turn my baby and it would just turn back around…

Anyway, what I realize is that it’s not a friggin contest mommies!! The most important thing is the baby being healthy and safe..AND there are siginificant perks to csection…like our privates don’t get ruined and daddies get to bond with the baby :-).

At any rate, I am lovin every minute with my sweet baby and am slowly seeing my tummy shrink!! My ta-tas are different too but it’s so worth it to look in my babys beautiful eyes each day and to know she’s getting some liquid gold to get her off to a right start!!!
Thanks for reading and take care

Still on my way to accepting myself. (Melanie)

Bonnie (SOAM) Abortion/Life after Abortion, Before Pregnancy, Belly, Breasts, First Pregnancy, Postpartum, Pregnant, Submissions, Tattoo 12 Comments

Age: 28
2 pregnancies, 1 birth
my son is 16 month old

When I met the father of my child I was 26 and we both knew instantly that THIS IS IT! We were what we’re always looking for and one month after we became a couple I became pregnant. It was no accident, but we should have thought about it more carefully. We were so desperately in love, we thought being a “real” family is the best we could do. From my todays point of view I’m sad that we didn’t think about it for some more time. From the very beginning we were “three”, and I sometimes wish I could have him just for myself. Just hanging out with him, going out, getting to know him, etc. But what to do.

That was also the reason why I had a really hard time to accept there was some”thing” inside of me. For the first half of the pregnancy I just felt like an incubator for some kind of aggressive alien, that wants to eat me from the inside. When we got to know the gender of the child and then FINALLY found a boys name it was somehow easier to accept – this “thing” inside became a “someone” with a name.
My husband-to-be is amazing, alltime caring and supporting and very understanding. He beared all my doubts and hopelessness, trying to be the best partner one can be. This year we will marry and it just took so much time because I want to have some champagne at my own wedding, and you know I couldn’t so far. :)

We had to wait pretty long for the little man to come, he was 10 days late when we decided to induce labour. It took almost an entire day, without any painkillers etc., all natural. I gave birth to a four kilo boy.

Today this boy is almost 16 months old, very active and healthy, with a strong will. It took some time for me to be able to accept and love this child, due to some problems with postpartum depression and other things. He was and still is very lively and I think everyone has to get used to the fact not to be able to go on living his own life the way he did before. I still struggle with that every day, but there are more and more moments every day when I’m so proud of this charming little troll or when I think how nice it is to have this family. Yeah, maybe I’m just a spoiled brat. The first six months I had to carry him all day, or lie down on the couch next to him. All day! I almost went crazy. He couldn’t sleep alone, started screaming instantly when I just got up to go to the toilet. Honestly? I’m so happy that this phase is over now. I’m about to get my old self back, and that feels so good.

When the boy was about six months old I accidently became pregant again. That was a shock for us. We actually want a second child – but not like this. I wouldn’t have managed. I was about to emigrate to my boyfriends home country, my son was the most exhausting thing in the world, there was absolutely no time for a second child. It wasn’t an easy decision, but in the end I had an abortion. I’m so sorry for this little one, maybe it was the girl we would wanna have, but I still think it was the best decision for all of us. I don’t want to be too overstrained to give my boyfriend the love he deserves and to ruin our relationship with that. You see, I’m no supermommy and whatever I do I will never be, I can just give my best. I have no idea how those “mothers of seven” manage to be able to breathe in their daily life. But well, everyone is different I guess. I have to find my own way to deal with that.

My boyfriend still loves my body, though I don’t really know why. It was also not perfect before and I don’t mind the stretch marks I have now (tits, thighs, belly). There are three to four kilo I just don’t manage to lose, though I was also not happy with my weight before my child. But what really annoys me is my tits. They also weren’t big or well-shaped before, but now they are just small, sagging bags, they look shriveled and poor. The only good thing: they were always very milk-productive (I never had any problems with nursing) and my wonderful body gave me nipples before my son was born, I didn’t have any in the past. :)

I still can’t really accept my body so far, but I also couldn’t before, and I know I have to do something about it. I’m aware of the fact that I look like a normal woman, but that’s such a taboo, no one ever talks about that. So this site is great and it will hopefully help me and others. I KNOW that my body is amazing, I grew a child inside, gave birth to it, nursed it. Female bodies are perfect and wonderful!

1 + 2 my body in the past (23 and 25 years old) both taken by myself, just so you know
3 – 6 situation today
7 21st week
8 35th week
9 birthday of my son
10 I had such monster tits in the beginning!
11 our little dude today!

(I’m sorry if I sometimes don’t express myself in a super correct way, I’m no native speaker.)