Submissions

We create beauty. We are beauty. (Kayla)

Bonnie (SOAM) Before Pregnancy, Belly, First Pregnancy, Positive Body Image/Words of Enouragement, Postpartum, Pregnant, Submissions, Update 11 Comments

Original entry here.

I put a post on here not too long ago. I have come so far the passed few weeks that I thought I would go ahead and post again. I have been thinking a lot about my body and the bodies of women on this site and I am wondering…how in the world could we ever be considered imperfect? We created and continue to create perfection, out sweet little babies, the most precious and loving thing on earth. This obviously makes us beautiful :) I started writing, kinda venting a tad ;) and this is what I ended up with.

To all the people that think that women should all be the media’s idea of perfection, screw you. All of the people that make me feel ashamed to wear a swim suit, get over it, I am wearing one. You must not appreciate the female body for what it is made to do. We, as women, are built to make life. WE grow babies inside of our wombs. With that comes the “imperfections”. The stretch marks, the saggy skin and breasts, the drooping, enlarged, and darker nipples. These are the changes our bodies had to make to nourish a life to grow inside of it. Women are made to give birth to life and nourish that life after it enters the world. Women are beautiful because of this amazing miracle. Not because their bodies aren’t yet scarred, or “ruined” as I have heard some say. I am not ruined. We are not ruined. We are beautiful. We are powerful. We gave birth to life. No one can ever tell me that my body isn’t perfect. To me it is. My daughter is wonderful perfection in my eyes. She is beautiful. My body changed for her. The changes it made, make it beautiful.

My daughter is now a month old. I saw her smile for the first time 2 days ago. It melts my heart and makes every mark on my body worth it. I was sad for myself when I looked in the mirror after I gave birth. Now I am glad that I look this way. If it wasn’t for me looking this way, I wouldn’t have her. She is now my world and I wouldn’t change a thing about my body. It gave me and my husband our baby girl. I have posted some updated pictures because I think the other ones I posted didn’t do my stretch marks justice :) Plus I lost a bit of weight in the last few weeks so I am quite proud :)

Number of pregnancies and births: 1
4 weeks pp (3 weeks in pics)

Picture 1 -Pre pregnancy tummy
Picture 2&3- 3 weeks pp
Picture 4- My husband and I Christmas 2010 (around 6 months pregnant)
Picture 5- My beautiful daughter, 3 weeks old.

Updated here.

Living it Up (Meredith)

Bonnie (SOAM) First Pregnancy, Postpartum, Submissions 11 Comments

Dear SOAM,

Oh man. This site has helped me so so much! I read it daily. No joke, after I had my little man (almost 2 years ago now, crazy) I was shocked/ticked with what happened to my body. No one told me what was gonna happen. No one ever talked about the droopy, saggy, scarred, forever changed body that would be left after the kid popped out. I gained pleeenty during pregnancy and was left with stretch marks and saggy skin galore. I worked hard and lost all the weight but still found myself hating my body and not even wanting to get dressed because I felt so alien in my skin. Then one day I thought, “Hello, Meredith! When you wear clothes that fit, you feel so much better about yourself and you get more done throughout the day. Plus you look fine with clothes on. Live up what you’ve got while you’ve got it, girl!” (when I talk to myself I go street, I guess). So that’s what I’m trying to do: I started a thrifty, mommy “fashion” blog and it’s been great. I’ve met tons of people while forcing myself to get ready daily. I still have days where I don’t feel worth it, days when I spot my wrinkly stomach and super droop boobs and I just want to climb back into my pajamas and never come back, but mostly it’s been very helpful. I’m not hiding how pregnancy changed my body, I’m just not letting it rule my mind anymore. My ultimate goal is to blog through another pregnancy (our little family’s not there quite yet!) because during my first one I never got gussied up, I just felt so huge and unmotivated. Well, never again! Pregnancy is not a disease and I want to celebrate/enjoy it more next time. Anyway, thanks to SOAM I know I’m normal. And it feels pretty good to just be normal. :)

Love, Meredith
https://meredithtuttle.blogspot.com/
I’m 23 and my little man is 22 months!

3 Years Later (Anonymous)

Bonnie (SOAM) Belly, Breasts, Cesarean, First Pregnancy, Mom over 30, Postpartum, Submissions 11 Comments

I’m coming up on my daughter’s third birthday and it was sort of a shock to realize that this was also (obviously) the three-year anniversary of my c-section. I hadn’t planned on a c-section and was pretty upset that I ended up having one. I had figured that my body would be different after pregnancy and childbirth. In fact, I remember looking at this very website before I was even pregnant and being shocked at how some women’s bodies had changed. Yet, but I’m still surprised at how different my body is now even though I *am* one of those women now. I have yet to fully come to accept it. I’ve never had a great figure but I do mourn the loss of what I had. I love my daughter very very much and have no regrets but I don’t like what I see in the mirror and usually avoid even looking. I probably weigh just about the same as I did when I got pregnant, maybe about 5 lbs more but even when I weighed 30 lbs more pre-pregnancy I liked my body better. The weird sagging apron of fat around my mid-section is a source of dismay and embarrassment and even presents problems for clothing options. I don’t fully understand why my body looks like this now. Is it the c-section? According to my doctors there was no complications with the surgery and I healed well. I didn’t have diastasis recti. Is it just age? I don’t know. I’ve started going to the gym again and trying to watch what I eat but I have to admit, I don’t think it’s going to get better seeing as I’ve been 30 lbs heavier and never looked like this. I think it’s just the way I look now and I need to learn to accept it. Three years later.

Your Age: 43 (gave birth at 40)
Number of pregnancies and births: 1/1
The age of your children, or how far postpartum you are: 3 years

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.

My New Self (Dee)

Bonnie (SOAM) Belly, First Pregnancy, Postpartum, Pregnant, Submissions, Teen Mom, Update 10 Comments

~Age: 17
~Number of Pregnancies and Births: 1
~Age of Child/Postpartum: Almost 6 months

I tried to make this short, but failed miserably. I saw this website when looking for something to help with my stretch marks. I think this site is absolutely wonderful and I am very excited to post.

If you’re a mom reading this, I just want to say congratulations on being a mom and congratulations on your “mom” body. Even though it may not be your ideal body, it was your baby’s ideal body and without that body you wouldn’t have them. Whose lives are completely ideal anyways? Certainly not mine.

How It Happened:

I met a guy my junior/senior year (I graduated a year early, so my junior and senior year were combined). I was a butch lesbian at the time and just broke up with a serious girlfriend for reasons I won’t get into. I really liked him and we became good friends. I was attracted to him so our friendship became friends-with-benefits. We did lots of drugs together and hung out every day. Both of us had just gotten out of serious relationships, though, and neither of us wanted to get into anything serious any time soon. Him and I became extremely unhealthy because of our drug use and decided we needed to stop.

In the beginning of March, my period was only a couple days late and I concluded it was from my recent drug use, but decided to go get a pregnancy test just to make sure. My friend and I didn’t use protection because I just assumed it wouldn’t happen to me and that teen pregnancy wasn’t as common as everyone says. I wanted a family eventually, but I wanted to live a party lifestyle for a while before I settled down. We saw the results together and both broke down crying. I took 3 more tests just to be sure. They were all positive. I knew I couldn’t bring myself to have an abortion or go through an adoption. I don’t have anything against women who do either of those options; I’ve just always known I wouldn’t be able to when the choice needed to be made. To me it wasn’t a choice. I couldn’t bear to think about killing my own child or being separated from them after spending 9 long months of pregnancy and going through a birth with them. Colton, my friend-with-benefits, then decided we needed to be dating and that he was going to stick by my side. At first I didn’t want him to date me just because he got me pregnant; I wanted him to date me because he wanted to date me, but I knew that I was luckier than some girls and accepted the offer.

My Teenage Girl’s Body:

I was never happy with that body, which now I wish I could have back. I had symmetrical, perky, small C-sized breasts. My butt could have used some work, but it was definitely “cute”. My stomach wasn’t completely flat, but it was in better condition that many other girls. I had a beautiful navel piercing that I absolutely loved. My legs weren’t half-bad. I used to be a dancer before I got more into drugs and all the strengthening ballet, jazz, tap, etc. gave me was something I took for granite. I stood at 5’ 2 ½” and weighed 110 pounds at the most. I had 2 tattoos; a playboy on my butt cheek and three iris flowers on my ribs. The iris tattoo was a cover up because I had gotten an unprofessional tattoo that I regretted for an ex-girlfriend. My skin had many flaws, though. I used to cut myself because of unmanaged anxiety, which left me with terrible scars all over my right arm, stomach, and thighs. When I was a cutter, I had to hide my body because I felt like it was nobody’s business and I was embarrassed. Eventually, though, I stopped caring. Some people would stare and those who weren’t familiar with cutters would ask what happened to me. I’d always tell them the truth; that I used to have some problems. I was no longer ashamed of those imperfections, although sometimes I’d imagine how much more wonderful my body would be if only I hadn’t destroyed it. They don’t bother me anymore, but I love when I can tell they’ve faded more and more over the years.

The Pregnancy:

I had a completely uncomplicated pregnancy, except for the fact that I had anemia, but I suffered from that before my pregnancy as well. I gained around 37 pounds. I rubbed cocoa butter all over my body at least 3 times a day every day for the entire duration of my pregnancy. I was extremely worried about stretch marks. By the end, I noticed one, maybe two stretch marks and I was so happy. I constantly checked and was fine with having just one or two.

The Birth:

The birth was uncomplicated, although at one point the doctors thought I needed a C-section because I wasn’t progressing as fast as they’d like and they thought my baby’s head may be too large to fit through. I had a vaginal birth with an epidural at age 17 after 23 long hours in labor. I was very afraid of tearing or needing an episiotomy, but neither happened. Holding my daughter was the most amazing moment of my life. My boyfriend and I cried tears of joy at this wonderful little blessing we brought into the world.

My New Life:

I had already stopped doing drugs by the time I’d found out I was pregnant, but it changed my whole perspective. Why would I even consider getting high if it could harm my baby? Well, I wouldn’t and didn’t. I went from being a don’t-give-a-shit, teenage, druggie, lesbian to an expecting mother with a guy by her side. Literally, my whole life was turned upside down. A baby was the very last thing I was expecting. Suddenly all of my goals changed. My whole outlook on life changed. Just everything changed. I have my own little family now, and even though things aren’t perfect, my boyfriend and daughter are both amazing. I am a mother now. It is my new identity. No longer am I a butch or a party girl, but a mom.

My Daughter:

I had a gorgeous 7 lb 8 oz, baby girl named Daisy the day after my due date. She is the love of my life. I never realized how much I could love someone. She is more important to me than anything in this world and I wouldn’t change a single thing about her. Throughout my entire pregnancy I worried that something would be wrong with her because of all the drugs my boyfriend and I did before (and possibly right after) I became pregnant, but she is completely healthy and I am so dumbfounded by how amazing she is. I’m so proud of all the things she can do and is continuing to learn to do. Having a child is by far the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I know she’s here for a reason. I was heading down the wrong path and she has put me on the right track and added so much more joy to my life than I could have ever imagined.

My New Woman’s Body:

Before I was just a girl, but now my body has endured the true pains of womanhood and I feel like a woman now. After I gave birth the weight melted off. By the time I was 3-4 weeks postpartum I weighed in at 115 lbs, which I am still at and can’t seem to lose those 5 more pounds. I was glad I had lost almost all my pregnancy weight in just a couple weeks and so ecstatic that I hardly got stretch marks throughout my entire pregnancy, but no one told me that you can also get stretch marks from losing a lot of weight quickly. I soon noticed lots of little stretch marks all over my stomach and butt/hips. I am crier and I cried about it for a good while. I used more cocoa butter and bio oil, but neither showed noticeable improvement. I am now using Mederma Stretch Mark Therapy; in hopes that it will help them fade (I’ll let you know how it works). Since I’ve already dealt with scars for years, I know that it takes time for things like that to fade and that there isn’t just a magic cream that will make them disappear. My woman’s body has less muscle all over and a lot more chub in the midsection. My once sexy navel piercing is now droopy and old-looking. My thighs and calves have cellulite and no longer have the dancer-look they once did. And my breasts; oh, how I miss those perky, teenager breasts. My breasts now aren’t as perky or symmetrical. They are smaller than they were in middle school. I loved wearing low-cut shirts back in pre-pregnancy years, but now I feel so flat-chested it’s as if they don’t even exist.

The Conclusion:

Now, I could complain about my new body all day, but I simply don’t want to. It’s a complete waste of energy. My body is wonderful. I am so proud of my body for creating, carrying, and giving birth to my beautiful daughter. I know that many mothers have it way worse than I do and I should be grateful that my “mom” body isn’t so bad. I’m worried about summer coming up and having to wear a bathing suit. I think I still have the nerve to show off my body, but it definitely makes me uneasy. I have doubts about myself and I am very self-conscious after giving birth, but I should stop waiting for my old body to come back because I know that body is long gone. And you know what? I’m okay with that. I love my body for what it did and what it does every day, not how it looks. What’s so great, though, is that I can love how it looks, too. I also know that you will see improvement in your body, but only if you work at it and take care of it.

I just want to say to all the mothers out there that I never knew how under appreciated we are until I became one. Mothers are amazing people and I honestly don’t think the world would work without us.

And to all other teenage mothers- I know it sucks to see that none of your friends have mother’s bodies and their bodies seem so perfect and not ruined, but you have something that they don’t even know they’re missing: the joy of being a mother. They can’t even begin to understand how much love you have in your life, at least I didn’t before I became a mother. Those bangin’ little teenage bodies shrivel in comparison to the complete happiness my daughter gives me every single day.

Pictures:
1. 4 months pregnant; prom night
2. 6 1/2 months pregnant on vacation for my 17th birthday
3. 39 weeks pregnant
4. Pushing at the hospital
5. My baby, Daisy, at the hospital
6. Me and my little girl
8-10. Almost 6 months postpartum
11. My little Daisy at 5 1/2 months

Updated here.

Underneath it All (Heidi)

Bonnie (SOAM) Before Pregnancy, Belly, First Pregnancy, Postpartum, Pregnant, Submissions, Teen Mom, Update 9 Comments

19 years old
1 pregnancy, 1 birth
3 1/2 months PP

In March of 2010, I met the man who would give me our beautiful son. I was the epitome of the typical (stereotyped) 18 year old, I stopped going to school to party all night and sleep all day. All I cared for was getting high, getting drunk, getting s*x. School wasn’t important, they told me I wasn’t going to graduate with my class (of ’10), so I gave up on going.

I got kicked out of my house a couple weeks after my 18th birthday (Feb. 26th), and spent a couple weeks bouncing from house to house until I met my fiancé. I moved in with him permanently, with a very strong intention to start a relationship.

Within about three weeks of us living together and being together, he asked if we could try to have a baby. I agreed wholeheartedly. I’m still not sure why, it just seemed like a good idea. Well, I was pregnant the next month. I had figured out my approximate window of time where I was ovulating, and two weeks later I missed my period (I was always regular). I took a pregnancy test and I was pregnant! We were so excited, but we were the only ones. Everyone likes to form their own opinions: “too young”, “too soon into the relationship”, etc. I didn’t care, I was extremely happy.

I was 134lbs before pregnancy. within the first four months, I had dropped to 114lbs because I suffered from hyperemesis gavidarum. I was not hospitalized for it. I was only able to drink Pepsi (I don’t know why), and I could barely keep any food down. I was vomiting maybe seven times a day at the most, mainly when I got up the courage to try to eat something. I was always tired, but I pushed myself to go to “work” (I babysat three children next door from around 5-6pm until 2-3am) because it was the only income we had at the time. Eventually, I got so weak that I just could not bear the thought of babysitting, and I called off working for her one day (She didn’t even have work, she just wanted to go tan at the beach), and she fired me.
I was exhausted, but I was so happy to be 114lbs. I’d always struggled with my weight and body image. Even at 125lbs, I thought I was fat. I got stretch marks when I was only 13 (I hit puberty at 11) and my chest size when from a B to a D in one summer. I was around 127lbs, and I was horrified. I’m only 5’2″, and I felt terribly chunky. I knew I was predispositioned to be curvy, but I was a stick before, so I honestly had no idea what “curvy” meant.

114lbs was the thinnest I’d been since I was around 12. I didn’t “hate” that I’d only achieved the weight b/c I was pregnant, but you can bet I wished I could be that weight afterwards!

I didn’t start showing until about the end of my 5th month, but I was still happy with my weight, my shape (I was all belly at the time), everything.

By the end of my pregnancy, I weighed around 157lbs. I started suffering from depression again (I was diagnosed with MDD-Major Depressive Disorder at age 14) when I hit 145lbs. After I gave birth, my weight only went down to 154lbs. My son was born a healthy 6 lbs, 13 oz, but I hadn’t even lost that much! I was so disappointed.

To top it off, I had a very hard birth. My epidural only worked partially (on my legs, they might as well have not been there for how much I could feel them), so I had horrible, painful back labor, my midwife would not let my fiancé or my Mum help me with holding my legs at my chest (I don’t know why). I got an episiotomy at the very end of my 18 hour labor (three hours pushing) and my beautiful baby boy was born three pushes later at 1:56pm on January 12th, 2011.

I decided to breastfeed early on, and I am proud to say I still am (despite a nasty case of mastitis 3wks PP). I went down to about 147lbs in two weeks, but I haven’t gone below 153lbs since the end of 1 month PP. I was told by many nurses and midwives that the baby weight just melts off when you breastfeed. This has not been true for me, but I’m not going to stop feeding my son breastmilk just because of the stubborn fat.
I absolutely hate to look in the mirror though. All I see is fat everywhere. My thighs touch almost down to my knees, my stomach is poochy, stretched marked and squishy. My boobs are alright, I’m used to them being huge and they didn’t really get many stretch marks, I already had some from puberty, but I’d never been terribly self-conscious of those.

I wear a size 15. I get upset a lot going clothes shopping (which I don’t really do) because most of the stores I like to shop at, I can’t find my size. I went to the mall with my fiancé for my 19th bday, and I cried because I could not find one pair of pants that fit. I couldn’t even find a bra, because at the time I had shot up to a DD. I still grab shirts that would fit my prepregnancy body when I’m shopping. Sometimes I laugh when I realize my mistake, and sometimes I get very sad. I have absolutely no will to exercise, it never helped me much before. I look back at the body I used to have and I wonder why I was so unhappy with it. I’d love to be a size 5 again. At one point, I fit into a 0, but that’s way too much to ask for lol.

My fiancé is very supportive. He thinks I look just fine. He supports me wanting to lose weight, but I get mad and accuse him of thinking I’m fat when he asks me if I want to exercise or if he suggests buying an array of chocolate bars is not a good idea (I’ve always been a chocoholic).

I don’t believe him when he says I look fine, I’m always putting myself down. Sometimes it gives me a spark of happiness when he says I look good. Because I want to believe that I do. I want to feel like I do. One of my younger sisters asked me how I’m going to fit in a wedding dress if I’m so fat. She also told me I still look pregnant.

I hope that sometime soon I feel good in clothes and out of them. My goal weight is 130lbs by my wedding date, November 12th of this year. I have to be careful about rapid weight loss while breastfeeding though. I hope I can do it.

1st picture: Me in May of ’09
2nd picture: 8 months pregnant
3rd picture: 3 1/2 mos PP
4th picture: 3 1/2 mos PP
5th picture: 3 1/2 mos PP
6th picture: 3 1/2 mos PP
7th picture: My son Ruskin Damian Dodge, 3 1/2mos
8th picture: My son again
9th picture: My beautiful family

Updated here.

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.

C(section) You in Heaven, My Dear (Krystal)

Bonnie (SOAM) Belly, Cesarean, Cesarean Scar and/or Incision, Child Loss, Postpartum, Pregnant, Submissions, Third Pregnancy 21 Comments

My third, and what I was hoping to be my final, pregnancy was beautiful in every way. I was always an active Preggo momma and continued this through my third pregnancy with walking, riding bikes and yoga. My first 2 pregnancies were also active and easy, leaving my body in pretty good shape and with healthy natural births. With just a few stretch marks here and there to complement the easy loving children who came with them. I was heading into my 38th week of pregnancy and preparing for a homebirth with a midwife who seemed to be just wonderful and perfect to accompany us. Again my body was holding up so well and I was always happy that each of my children left me with just a few battle scars. Oct. 27th I had a MW appointment and was gaining steadily, baby was ready for arrival and I was happy to only have acquired another 3 or 4 stretch marks with the 45 lb. gain on my 5’2” frame. Little did I know the next day would leave me with one of the hardest scars to accept. I awoke at 5 am, on Oct. 28th, and was instantly worried because my little bean wasn’t waking me up like she usually did at 3 am doing jumping jacks. I waited it out till about 7 am and was only getting small shifts. I called my MW and received no answer so I called the OBGYN I was also working with through my pregnancy. The nurse called me back about 930 am and told me to head on up to the hospital. My MW was still no where to be found as she is even to this day. I went in and at about 1030 am I was called back to have a NST. The sweet sound of my little beans Heartbeat was beautiful and a normal 141. My husband showed up about 10 minutes later and we sat and listened to the sweet thumping sounds coming from the little machine next to me. Suddenly, as if the world stopped, her heartbeat did too going from 141, to 80 , 40, 80……gone. That little machine then turned into the worst little machine I had ever seen when it started alarming to warn us that my baby was in distress. The Dr. took me to L&D where I was stripped, gassed and cut open. The very last thing I remember was my baby moving one last time in me to say goodbye before she headed on up into the Lords arms. I awoke 4 hours later to the most excruciating pain and life shattering news that I was cut open, robbed of my soul and left scarred and empty armed. I have a scar now stretching 8 inches across my abdomen reminding me on a daily basis that I have an angel in heaven, just waiting for me to join her some day, thanks to the grace of the good Lord. I try daily to accept this scar as a reminder of Gods grace and promise that some day I will see my little angel Stella again.

~Age: 28
~Number of pregnancies and births: 3 pregnancies, 2 live births
~The age of your children, or how far postpartum you are: 12, 4, 6 months post partum from my angel baby’s birth

My Belly Has Stripes Like a Zebra’s (Stephanie)

Bonnie (SOAM) Belly, First Pregnancy, Postpartum, Submissions 2 Comments

Every day I see in the magazines, and on TV all of these women/mothers that are perfect 6 weeks after having a baby (if not sooner) and after reading this site, and everyone’s stories it made me realize, we are taught to think so badly of our stretch marks and our pooches because we don’t see them in the magazines and on TV every day. We see perfection. Well in my eyes, my zebra striped pouch came from something and someone special. I am a single mom, and I DO worry about whether or not the next man I am with will accept me stripes and all. But then I think to myself, if he loves me and wants to be with me, he will accept what I did with my body and what it went through to give my child life. I will never regret that I didn’t drop the weight right away, or that I have stretch marks in some of the most random places. I am happy, and my son is happy, and to me that is all that matters to me.

Two Blessings, My Sister and My Problem (Anonymous)

Bonnie (SOAM) Belly, Cesarean, Four or More Pregnancies, Plus-Sized Mom, Postpartum, Submissions 4 Comments

I am 37 and have had 6 pregnancies and 2 live births. My first born is 3 year and 3 months and my second is 13 months old. I became a plus size after my first pregnancy and I still am. I don’t like my body and from time to time I wish I could come off my skin. I had a new year resolution to loose the weight and exercise. I felt unattractive and have been having problems with my husband for that, I don’t want to be intimate with him because I feel so ugly and that the belly and extra fat gets in the way. He tells me he loves me just as I am… so it is me the problem, I cannot look at my self in the mirror and think how bad I look…

I had both babies by c-section. With the first one I had postpartum depression, I cried for everything and anything and to make everything worse I was afraid of my baby. With the second one I had no time to think of depression. My oldest expected me to be there and so did the new born, I have no family or friends to help, so I pulled my act together just for them. I have nursed both of them and with my last I still am, baby is not showing interest on getting of the breast milk, refuses water, juice, milk.

14 days into the new year my sister tells me that she is going to have a tummy tuck and a liposuction done… I felt scared for hear and tried to talk to her out of it but no such luck on January 18th I called to talk to her and come to find out that she was in the OR having the procedure done, I had so many things going through my head… now I will be the ugly one of the bunch, I am going to be the fat and deformed one, to a point I felt envy, one because she was able to pay for a procedure like that and two because she was escaping the gang of us chubby ones. That same day I tried talking with her on the phone but she was not up to it, so I waited for the next day and that night I kept thinking those same thoughts of envy and self pity. The next day I woke up and went to the chiropractor like I always do on Wednesdays and felt the need to talk to my sister. At noon I received the most horrible news of all my sister, the better part of me had died of a pulmonary embolism.

Now 3 months latter I am still 185 pounds on a 5’2” tall body and feeling guilty for the thoughts of envy, for my lack of commitment to my new year resolutions, without my best friend and confident and with a husband that does not understand why I cannot love my body and my self.