Previous post here.
Thank u all for your beautiful words of support been working my huge ass off and lost sum weight but the more i lose the small my boobs get and im concerned that with 3 kids coming out of me my vagina doesnt look as it should i cant help but think about it in the bedroom :( let me know what u think love u all
A more intimate picture can be found here.
I am 28 and cant lose the baby fat and i am very self conscious about my body could use sum support thank u all
Updated here.
Hello everyone,
I want to firstly mention that this blog does so much good for mothers and I am proud to finally add my submission. I had my first child at 17. I had no idea what I was in store for emotionally or physically at the time. It always really bugged me that none of my female family members took the time to prepare me for what would happen to my body after having a child, but honestly… none of my female family members bodies turned out anywhere near as bad as mine. My mother had me at 17 and I was her only child, she never even had a single stretch mark. I went from being 16 and JUST FINALLY getting boobs and becoming a women to having my body completely changed. A lot of the reason my body suffered as much as it did is the fact that I am extremely petite, I am only five feet tall and have almost no torso.
My first child did most of the damage but with each child (three total) following it got worse and worse. I gained and lost weight after and in between each pregnancy as most people do and of course breastfed my children which made my breasts sag and stretch just as much as my tummy. I spent 7 years yo-yoing, trying to get rid of the weight which I thought would get rid of the skin, I wore hard, tight compression garments daily just to be able to wear normal clothing without my tummy showing through my clothing. I always wanted a tummy tuck to fix my tummy because I knew my tummy was an extreme case that could only be fixed surgically. My husband and I had our third and final child 02/14/2011 and we decided to have my tubes tied not only because we were done having children, but because we knew that at some point in the future that I would finally have a tummy tuck and would not want to risk an accidental pregnancy after.
In August of 2012 I decided I couldn’t live with my body anymore and for the first time in my life I was seriously overweight. My heaviest weight was 185lbs and I decided it was time for a consultation with a plastic surgeon. I went in and had a consult and we put our down payment on the surgery scheduled over three months down the line so we had time to save for the surgery and for me to kick butt and shed as much weight as I could before the surgery. By the time my surgery arrived on 12/13/12 I had lost 35lbs and was at my goal weight for the operation. I had my tummy tuck and now I have my body back. I feel so blessed to have a beautiful family, loving spouse and my self confidence back. It was hard work to lose the weight and save the money for the surgery but it completely changed my life.
The point of my submission is that the joy that comes with parenting doesn’t have to come at a cost. You can say I have my cake (my kids) and I am eating it too.
I included a collage of pictures before my surgery and some photos from after. The before pictures are after I lost 35lbs right before the surgery. The difference between the before and after photos is only 5lbs! All 5 of those lbs were skin. I also want to mention that with my tummy tuck I had a Mons Pubis excision. As many of you know, after having children (especially if you have lots of excess skin) your vajay-jay can sag and become puffy, the Mons Pubis surgery corrects it.
I wish you all the best on your journey of finding, accepting and loving yourself no matter WHAT works for you.
Age: 25
Three pregnancies, three births, children’s ages (8,6,2)
My last post.
Age: 26
Number of pregnancies: 2 carried to term, 1 miscarriage at 7 weeks
PP: 6 years, 3.5 years, miscarriage yesterday at 7 weeks
Image: about 5 weeks pregnant with 3rd baby that I just lost
I have posted here many times before. This was my third pregnancy, and I was so very excited. I found out when I was only 4 weeks along! Although my other 2 pregnancies were very welcome, this one was hoped for. With my first son I was only 19, not married, and terrified to tell my parents (it did not take long to get happy though!). My first son was born with a very rare syndrome and he passed away when he was only 19 months old. It was/is the most difficult thing I have ever experienced. I think of him and miss him every single day (it has been 4.5 years since he passed). I got pregnant with my second son only 3 months after Connor had passed away, so it was very difficult (again, it did not take long to get happy, and I knew it was what Connor wanted for his Father and I). This pregnancy, my third, was planned. I was so excited when I found out (I even jumped up and down). I am married, I did not JUST lose my son (not that I don’t miss him…just that it isn’t as fresh as it was when I got pregnant with my second), and this was planned. I will be graduating in the beginning of May from nursing school, and my due date was supposed to be June 6th, so the timing was perfect. I had planned it all out…I would get quite a few months home with the baby while applying for nursing jobs…it was perfect timing. Yesterday I went to the bathroom and saw some blood clots. I told my husband we had to go to the hospital. We brought Liam (our second child) to the sitter, and off we went. They did blood work and an ultrasound which basically confirmed that I was in fact pregnant, but no longer am. I was crushed, crying uncontrollably. When we got home from the hospital I was in extreme pain, felt like actual contractions. This morning I woke up, went to the bathroom, and passed my placenta. This is just horrible. I already loved that baby. I know it is different than losing my Connor, but to me, I just lost another baby. Although was only 7 weeks pregnant, it was my baby and I loved him/her.
~Age: 24
~Number of pregnancies and births: 3 pregnancies 1 birth, 1 miscarriage, now pregnant.
~The age of your children, or how far postpartum you are: 24 months, and EDD 01/12/2013
Hi ladies! So it has been quite some time since I have posted. I remember first coming to this site nearly three years ago and being awe struck by the amount of honest, raw, emotion and pictures that I saw, and how they empowered me to accept my body, love my daughter, and work through fog of post pardom depression. With my first pregnancy I was in a terrible place in life, a bad relationship, financial debt, middle of finishing school, and extremely naive. (I was 22 when I fell pregnant). Luckily through the support of friends and family I pulled through it all, I ended up ending it with my daughters father when she was 3 months old and worked on gaining that acceptance of myself for who I was and what I had accomplished despite the physical appearance of my pregnancy ravaged body. (This is what I thought at the time). At about 10 months PP I met my current fiance, and he loved and accepted me and my daughter for who we were. I had a hard time believing this, considering he had known me in high school (I thought I was fat then too) at a awesome weight of 150- 155 and curvy as all get out. Here I was sitting at 210, flabby tummy with a crawling 10 month old who was going through teething hell.. How, I thought, could he honestly love us both? Well that got to changing. We moved in together, raised my beautiful daughter, who now has a Papa and a Daddy since I am happy to announce her father finally came around and has been an active part of her life since she was about 12 months old. We got pregnant the 1st time unexpectedly in December. We were overjoyed at the thought and told everyone quickly. Turns out it wasn’t meant to be and I got incredibly sick, ended up in the ER twice in one week and miscarried days before my 24 birthday. We were heartbroken. It took me a month or two of praying, meditating and evaluating my life to come to terms with what had happened. In the end I had found some peace, knowing that that baby was never meant to be born, just give me a wake up call to what really was important, and to fully pull me out of that depressive funk. Fast forward three months, I am a month from graduating with by Bachelors Degree, my daughters father was taking responsibility and growing up, my boyfriend had proposed and we were now engaged, and I had a gorgeous talking toddler. I took a test on a whim considering I had symptoms weeks prior. My fiance and I had discussed trying the following year, giving us time to move out, get stable jobs and settle in to the life we had created. Well turns out we were pregnant again! Found out May 4th, and we were super excited again. I had extremely mixed emotions. I really wanted a second baby, but considering the last one, I was nervous as all get out. Weeks crept by, and my belly got bigger, and the anticipation and nervousness grew. The day of my 12 week ultrasound I couldn’t sleep, eat, or really even function. I was paralyzed by fear. It wasn’t until we heard the heartbeat, and saw our little ones tiny frame wiggling around that we finally relaxed, and had realized we had indeed been blessed by keeping this little miracle.
Well update from that, I did graduate with my Bachelors Degree, and enrolled in a Masters program focusing in Early Childhood Education. My fiance found full time employment, then we moved out to our own place Mid July. I also started working full time just last month (same place as the fiance. lol), working at a call center so that I would be able to bring in income, still go to school, and not wreak havoc on my pregnant form with the ups and downs and lifting requirements from my previous job. (Daycare. hehe love em!) Things seriously could not be better. I love being pregnant this time around, and think it’s actually going by way to fast this time around. With my first daughter there was all this negativity, stress and worry it really took a toll. With this pregnancy I am embracing my pregnant form, love the kisses from my toddler to my belly, and love the moving and kicking that our second little girl is giving us. Granted it can be painful too, she likes to sit in my hip and put pressure on my back, but hey it’s totally worth it. I have a great doctor who is completely supportive of a VBAC as long as certain requirements are met, and is not forcing me into another repeat C if not absolutely necessary. I’ve gained about 8 lbs, and am loving it!
The most I can give is my story and advice. For someone who has been to both sides, experienced a miscarriage and loss, the joys of one pregnancy, and the woes of another, I can honestly say its all about perspective. LOVE THE BODY YOU’RE IN! I cannot stress that enough. I am by no means “fit” as I never quite lost the weight from my first pregnancy, but I figure there is plenty of time for that after my second princess it born, and if I don’t get down to that, oh well! Enjoy life, and enjoy your babies, they grow up way to fast. I know it sounds incredibly cliche, and I was one of those skeptics too, but now I am a believer. Thank you Bonnie, and all of you other brave women out there who expose your tummies, the troubles and the successes, it really helps people like me relate and get through and see their own silver lining.
1.The Rainbow baby Amaia. :) Or maybe Damian if they’re wrong. Don’t really care though. :)
2. Me at 26 weeks! (Far right)
3. This is my first miracle baby who came out of extreme circumstances. Love you Ms. Scarlett! And she’s almost 2!
My name is Jessica, I am 26 years old. These pics are of my 3rd pregnancy. My kids are 6, 3 en 0 years old now. All kids are born by a vaginal birth.
The postpartum pic were taken 2 months after my last pregnancy.
After my second pregnancy I was told to wait at least 5 years before I have another because while on the table in a emergency csection I had a partial uterine rupture. I ended up getting pregnant 3 years later. So you can imagine the fear when the ept said pregnant. We got in for a emergency ultrasound and our little butter bean seemed to be doing well!
I called the Ob who delivered my first two and was in exactly two weeks later. I was starting to get excited about the miracle we had on the way (I was told I would never have kids and this would be my 3rd!). My excitement was shot down fast when the Ob walked in introduced himself and immediately went into my risk with going through with the pregnancy. “after reviewing your history I’m letting you know right away you are high risk, you have a 20% chance of repeat uterine rupture and that will make you lose the baby. It could also possibly kill you. With that said you also need to understand as you get farther along your risk will increase. You should probably think about if you want to continue this pregnancy. You have 2 other children and a husband to think about.” He said. I was in tears. Why? Why me? Why can’t I have a normal pregnancy? I cried through the rest of the appointment.
Later on at home my husband and I looked up abortion places. The doctor was right I can’t keep going when my risk will only get worse. I can’t leave my other two precious babies without their mother. We Looked up info and discussed it for a couple of weeks. The tears I cried were endless. I wasn’t happy with what I was told. I can’t end my little baby’s life. She/he has a heart beat.
I called my parents to tell them my I made my mind up. after all they needed to know, i was going to need all the support I could get. They weren’t happy with what I had decided no one was. But I was and my husband was thats all that counts. Eventually every one else will come around and accept it. Even though they constantly tried to change my mind, I stood my ground.
At my next Ob appointment I told them what I had chosen and it was done. No one could change our mind.
MY BABY wasn’t going to be aborted. I couldn’t do it.
I ended up switching obs. But not after having two more ultrasounds. One was a emergency ultrasound to check on “baby butter bean” after having contractions at 16 weeks. While in the ultrasound we were told baby bean was a Girl! We were happy! Announced to our friends and family as soon as I was discharged from the hospital! Three weeks later we were told our little girl wasn’t a little girl but a very PROUD little boy! The first ultrasound was wrong! I guess better to know now then wait until he was born and have all the wrong color stuff!
My high risk Ob was wonderful! He has been in practice for longer then I have been alive and even as taught a few years of school. I had ultrasounds every week to show early signs of rupture. If my uterine scar started looking thin he was going to take me to the OR.
After 2 rounds of steroid injections and making it past 32 weeks we scheduled the csection. It was coming close. My doctor didn’t want me to carry last 37 weeks and I was put on meds to stop contractions for the rest of the pregnancy. We were almost there!
On a Thursday morning we arrived at the hospital. This was it! I made it all the way soon my little boy will be in my arms and I can stop the worry!
I was prepped for my csection and off to the or we went! My blood pressure was a little elevated but other then that everything was great! We were there. The day that almost never happened! Then I got into the or….
We went through the normal stuff and then came time for the spinal. They had me straddle the table one leg on each side with a pillow to my stomach. “this isn’t how I did it with my other two I need a nurse in front of me and both my legs need to be on one side of the table” I said. The assured me it was fine. They are trained in this do they should know. The first injection went in perfect very little pain. Then came the second. That one hurt! I jerked a little but then they laid me down and finished getting ready. My Ob walked in and asked “how are you doing?” “I’m fine” I responded. He then went to his spot talked to his nurses and then started getting his things ready. He asked if I felt him touching my legs which I didn’t. Then a huge amount of pain overwhelmed me. I looked at the nurse next to me and said “as he started?” after looking over the drape she replies “yes” I looked to my side my husband wasn’t there. “where is my husband!? I can feel this where is my husband! He needs to be in here NOW! I can feel the doctor cutting me”. The nurse yells out “where is the dad?” a nurse runs out and get him. While she was gone I kept telling the one had my head I could feel the pain. She said I felt pressure I couldn’t feel pain. I’ve had 2 csections before this isn’t normal I thought. About that time my husband came in. He asked how I was doing and I told him I could feel it and started telling him what side I felt the doctor on. About that time I looked at my husband and said “something isn’t right”. He told the nurse I could feel it to do something but she blew him off also.
A few seconds later I look at my husband and say “here he comes” I felt my son slid out of my stomach. Immediately he started crying. Instantly I was relieved. He is fine. I told my husband to go don’t worry about me and he went to take pictures. I knew complaining anymore of the pain wouldn’t help. I focused in my little mans cry and dealt with the pain. Then I saw him. Love at first sight all over again. After about 3 minutes they took him to the nursery and my husband went to.
My focus was gone. The pain still there. I again told the nurse I could feel it and started calling sides to her. She still didn’t believe me. I gave up I fond a new focal point. The monitor, I watched as my blood pressure stayed above what it was when I went in. The anthesia makes blood pressure lower, it also will rise when your in pain. And the blood pressure was up it hadn’t gone down. Why didn’t they believe me? Your supposed To trust them.
I felt everything. I knew hen he was finishing, I felt every staple go into my skin. I was sent to recovery where I was welcomed by another nurse, my husband, son and mom. I took my son and just held into him. This day may not have been possible. What if I needed the pregnancy the look on that amazing face was worth every ounce of worry. Every tear was all worth it in the end.
Doing recovery I was asked how I felt. I had awful pain on my right side. Never have I experienced pain like that after a csection. I told the nurse about the pain and her response was “you just had a csection your going to hurt”. I looked her dead in the eyes “I know I will feel some pain. I’m not stupid I’ve done this 2 times before. But this pain isn’t normal SOMETHING IS WRONG”. But again I was blown off. Okay fine maybe I was over reacting. Every pregnancy is different so every recovery is different right?
I was sent to my room for the next few days a hour later. We spent time with family enjoying our new miracle. Our blessing. He was perfect. When my older two came to see him they were ecstatic! Everyone was over the moon! I DID IT! I beat the risk I made it through he was fine. My children still had their mother and my husband still had his wife.
On the third day which was discharge day my husband started getting things ready. We were getting to bring our son home.
The nursery was ready to discharge. Just waiting on final word from my Ob. When he arrived I told him how excited I was to get home. He checked me then gave me that look I only saw one time before from him. I knew something was wrong. Last time he gave me that look was when at first it looked like he would be delivering at 33 weeks until he rechecked my scar tissue measurements. My hopes were dashed. He said I wouldn’t be going home today.
My stomach was swollen, red and tender to the touch on the same side I had complained about and been blown off. I was told not to breast feed for 24 hrs given a pump to dump all milk for the next 24 hrs.
The pain was bad but I had given up on complaining. Maybe now they will listen? I was sent for a CAT scan which showed I had a bowel obstruction. I had to get a n-g tube and lots of other interventions to “unstop” me. I couldn’t hold my baby. The pain was enough to make the strongest person break down.
After 3 days they said I was better and sent me home. I was extremely happy. My family was going to be together again! We got home and settled. I was still weak walking up the porch steps made me out of breathe. I felt like I couldn’t move. But I had to keep going. I’m getting better.
After I few days my condition had not improved. It had worsened. I didn’t do anything. I could barley breathe without hurting. My husband had to do it all. I only did night feedings. It was so painful breastfeeding wasn’t possible.
Then it started, I was extremely hot but freezing. Okay great just the after baby sickness. It was about time my son was 2 weeks old. I took my temp and was shocked when it said 104.6 I don’t think I ever had a temp that high! I took some tylenol and my husband made me take a cold bath. To me it felt like I was jumping in water that was frozen! The next day my temp was still high nothing was bringing it down and my pain was so bad I was taking the pain pills to sleep. I called my Ob and was seen as soon as I got there.
He checked me “Ob side” I looked to be healing great from birth! I had lost a lot of weight but some people lose it fast. But I wasn’t eating. In fact I had a little bit of broth every day cause I had to get something. By a little bit I mean 2-8 spoons of it.
My Ob was concerned because of the barley eating and drinking, also the red swollen spot that had developed over my belly button. It was tender to the touch. He sent me to the general surgeon that saw me after I had the baby. He. Checked me out and said I had cellulites (skin infection) put me in antibiotics and secheuled and appt with the gastrointestinal doctor that saw me in the hospital. The appointment wasn’t until Monday of the next week. It was only Tuesday. So we went home and started treating my skin infection.
My husband seemed to be getting frustrated because I wasn’t eating or drinking like I should I only wanted to lay on the couch. I didn’t want to hold my baby. I didn’t want my other two to bother me. I honestly wanted to die. I was giving up my fight I’m not strong. I can’t do this anymore.
The time came for my appointment with the gi doctor. I still had high fevers even though I was taken my antibiotics as I was told. He took one look at my spot and said it wasn’t cellulites. I needed a ct to make sure it wasn’t a hernia but he knew it wasn’t cellulites.
The earliest I could get a ct appointment was a Wednseday. So we went home and waited. I was getting worse. To make matters worse the pain meds I was using just to be able to lay down and sleep at night were stolen! My husbands aunt took over 20 pills right out from under me! While I was laying on the couch telling her how bad my pain was. She did that while my husband was gone getting my other two from school.
The day of my ct we dropped the kids off with my grandmother and told them we would be back in a couple of hours. Gave kisses and hugs. My grandfather looked at me with Hirt in his eyes. I could tell he knew how much pain I was in. No matter how hard I tried to hide it. He kissed me on my head and said he would see me in a little bit.
When my husband and I arrived they made me drink more barium. That stuff is awful! I was actually thirsty for real drink after it. For the first time in days I wanted a juice! They gave me a blanket because I was freezing and had me wait cause they needed to call the doctor and have him look at it. They wouldn’t give me a juice though. I was highly upset about that.
After about 30 minutes they called is to a corner of the waiting room that no one was in and said I had to get to the hosptial. No going home and getting things get there ASAP! No answers as to way.
We got to the hosptial and I was admitted. Still no answers. I watched my nurse pour a huge cup of water down the drain because the doctor said I couldn’t eat or drink. I may be having laproscopic surgery but they are seeing if they could do it then. But why? We didn’t know. It wasn’t until 930 at night FIVE hours after we were admitted I was told over the phone I would be having surgery in the morning I had a little bit of infection in my pelvic area.
We didn’t know what to think still. We had no answers and I still had nothing to eat or drink! I wanted to go home and come back in the morning but they wouldn’t let me. I wanted my babies.
The next day at 200pm I was taken to pre-op gave hugs and kisses to my mom and husband and I love yous were exchanged. After that I was out like a light. I don’t remember much. My next memory was waking up and seeing my husband, my step daughter, my husbands exwife and her husband in front of my bed talking. I looked down to see I had the dreaded N-g tube again. Great! And passed back out.
My next memory was sometime the next day. I woke up to extreme pain. My nurse came in to change my dressings. I got enough strength to look. “what happened? Why am I like this” I was cut from under my breast all the way to where they did the csection. I was in tears. MY BODY WAS RUINED!
My surgeon came in a few minutes later and asked how I was feeling. “jerk how do you think I feel!” was what went through my head. I replied “I was fine till I saw what you did to me!” he then offered to do plastic surgery for me later on I’m the future. Yeah he just confirmed he is a jerk. I had cuts, bandages, staples and tubes all over my stomach. But why?! What is going on.
He later explained that the spot on my stomach was actually my colon. It had died and my body was trying to reject it. I was leaking infection into my pelvic area which my body was trying to protect myself against by forming a barrier around it the size of a softball. My stomach was full of infection and I had mrsa.
Wait mrsa? I didn’t have that 3 weeks ago going into the csection. I was healthy! How did this happen?
Turns out the bowel obstruction never really healed. I have my theroy of how the mrsa happened. Remember the nurse left to get my husband. She left the or to get him. When she came back she went back to her spot next to the Ob. She wasnt gone long enough to scrub back in and she touched the door. She never changed her surgical gear. I’m pretty sure that caused me to get it.
I spent 2 weeks in the hosptial recovering. I was told another 24 hrs I would of been dead. What saved me was my age and the fact that they took the my son before he was ready. My body fought like lt was still pregnant.
We celebrated Easter and my daughters birthday in my hosptial room. Not the best but I wasn’t dead so that counts.
I was on antiotics the whole stay. I ha to have 48 hours of Iv nutrients before I was allowed to eat real food since I hadn’t eaten in awhile. I was also given 2 bags of blood.
Now its been a little over a year. I’m still here. I’m not as healthy as I used to be but my kids have me. I fight self esteem issues sometimes but it’s gotten better. I will wear a two piece to the beach, pool, or lake. The stares don’t bother me as much anymore.
My scar is proof I am strong. My stretch marks are proof of love/life/hope/ and miracles. I am a fighter. Even when I wanted to give up I kept going. No matter what was thrown at me. But it goes to show How quickly things can change
4 pregnancies 1 miscarriage and 3 births.
Ages of children: 4 years, 15 months, 2 weeks old.
Having posted on here about 4 years ago after the birth of my daughter (Michaela Marks) I thought I’d revisit the site to hopefully encourage others.
I now have 3 children in total (see above), and, at the age of 37, I AM DONE!! Lol.
Like many of you, I struggled from my teen years to love my body. I did the whole thing: Anorexia, self loathing, social paranoia, trying to cover up stretch marks with clothes, makeup or self tanning cream. Tried loads of “stretchmark remedies” none of which ever worked: the only thing they work to do is give you a great way to waste your money while providing false hope – not a great investment I’ve decided. Lol. ;p
I was never “overweight” – maybe 10 or 15 lbs ever at the most – but I had stretchmarks from a very early age – purely caused by growth spurts going through puberty. Some on the back of my legs, hips, my whole backside is covered in the rascally little things. Then, when I got pregnant, my once beautiful, spotless, toned tummy got a bunch of stretchmarks too. What are you going to do though eh? Like I said … I’ve never been overweight – even through my pregnancies, so really … there was nothing I could have done to prevent any of it. (If you want to see pics, visit my link above).
I rubbed all the useless creams on: Bio-Oil, Palmers Cocoa Cream, some other stuff I can’t remember the name of – at $100 a bottle, it would be nice to remember the name: Denevoux or something like that – all products were a waste of time.
Now, here I stand, 2 weeks after the birth of my third child and I’m about 5’8 and 15 lbs away from my pre-pregnancy weight of 133. I’ll get back there – I’m not worried about it. I would post new pictures of what I look like now, but I’m too lazy to get the camera and upload them. Sufficed to say, that my tummy is a little more devastated then it was after the first baby … but at least I still have a stomach! It helps when I want to consume mass quantities of See’s Chocolate Bordeauxs. Lol. Mmmmm. Slurp!
The reason I write now though is because, in my ripe old age of 37 (lol), something occurs to me: What my body looks like really doesn’t matter.
I mean, really – who cares?
Who cares besides me?
And why do I want to waste my time self obessessing when I can use my energies and point them outwards onto other people like my children, my husband, my extended family, my friends, others who may be in need and can use my help?
With all the suffering, pain and hardships in the world – do I really want to spend even one minute of my time sweating what I look like physically? Especially when I am healthy and able bodied, and have been blessed with wonderful kids, family and friends? How self defeating and what a waste of time that would be – what a waste of time it IS for so many of us women who live in the Western world and allow ourselves to be distracted, on a daily basis, by things that ultimately really don’t matter in the grand scheme of things.
For example, thinking about it, the most beautiful, life filled, giving, caring person I know is an Aunt of mine whose body also happens to suffer the ravages of child birth. But when I think about her, I don’t think about her body – I think about how her existence is such a positive influence on those around her. How, to many people, she is the most amazing person they know – just due to her giving heart and her willingness to offer love and help to all around her. She is other people centered – not self centered.
This is what I want to be like too.
I am not perfect. Even if I were “perfect” I wouldn’t be perfect – not in this world. Salvador Dali said: “Have no fear of perfection, you’ll never reach it”.
We just all need to stop self obssessing and get on with life. Just get on with it. Instead of spending time in front of the mirror lamenting what “once was” – we should spend that time working for charity, or taking our children to the park, or teaching our daughters how to make a difference in the world through their loving actions towards others and not because of what they may, or may not, look like physically.
We all have fantastic potential and influence as mothers. Frankly, for me, if someone doesn’t like my stretchmarks, or belly button (which now looks more like the mouth of a wide mouthed bass than a belly button lol), those people can go “Pound Sand”. Seriously … I don’t have time for nonsense like that. I’ve got children to raise, I’ve got people to love on, I’ve got work to do, I don’t have time to worry about nonsense.
What are we going to be remembered for anyways? When it’s all said and done? We’re going to be remembered for how we affected people; we are going to be remembered for the type of people that we are/were. I’ve never seen a eulogy which stated things like: “And after having 3 kids … she had a PERFECT body”. Nope … that doesn’t happen (because having a perfect body is something that just really doesn’t matter) …
Love yourselves and your children – don’t sweat the small stuff. Get to work! :) Peace and love to you all.
26
Number of pregnancies and births: 3.
I just had my third baby on April 2, 2012. My oldest son is 6, my daughter is 14 months, and my youngest son us 6 Weeks. I have always been a bigger girl. Im 5′ 7 and around 190. I think having my last two only 12 1/2 months apart has really taken a toll on my body. Im weighing in right at 200 now. So ivl have lost 29 lbs so far. I just feel like my stomach is stretched out. I love my kids and know it was all worth it though. Just takes somes getting used to I guess. I just really need some words of encouragement I guess.
First pic I was 39 Weeks preggo
Second pic 5 Weeks PP
third pic another 5 Weeks PP
I got pregnant young; I guess not as young as some mothers I know, but 18 is still a child in my mind. I was ready though. I had been forced to grow up quickly because of home-life circumstances. When I got pregnant I was a nice 120 pounds. I had a nice taught and tanned body. My breasts were perfect perky size C orbs. I am only 5’3″, so I am by no means a big girl. I have never thought of myself as petite, but I have been told by many people that I am. So there you go.
I gave birth to my son in October of 2004. I was then 19 years old. Who knew I would grow such a large child! My son stretched me beyond capacity. I applied vitamin E directly. It was sticky oil I applied all over my body three times per day. Palmer’s pregnancy butter was a favorite as well. I thought I was doing it right. I knew I would be one of those women that bounce back; you know with no signs of a child on my body. I knew I would breastfeed. There was no other option; that is what your breasts are for. When I was about six months pregnant, I couldn’t see my feet, or the underside of my belly obviously, and my aunt burst my bubble by notifying me I had several large red stretch marks creeping and crawling up my protruding belly. I was devastated. I put on even more products daily to help to avoid them becoming any worse. No use. My son was very large. I was not able to birth him because he was stuck in my pelvis. I am small, he is large; go figure. I had to undergo a cesarean birth after eleven hours of labor. I was so upset. The recovery process alone was almost enough to make me want to avoid another pregnancy, EVER. He was born at 9 pounds 4 ounces and was 22 inches. My breasts grew from the small C to a DD almost larger. I produced more milk than my son even needed. I then wore not a size five jeans but a size ten. That was a little disheartening. My belly was nothing but a stretched out balloon of hanging skin. I finally began referring to it as the road map of California; I mean with all the stretch marks crossing and meandering in and out with each other all over my abdomen, it resembled the complex road systems of a large state like California. My husband at the time still found me attractive and beautiful, but I did not. When my son weaned at ten months I gained even more weight because I continued to eat as though I was breastfeeding. I finally peaked at a size 14 and knew, for my own peace of mind, I needed to lose some weight. God bless South Beach!
My marriage failed. When my son was two I found myself a single mother. I met my second husband when my son was three. He loved my body. I thought he was crazy. I had completely saggy and deflated breasts. While I was back to a size 5, my belly never saw the light of day again. It was an embarrassing representation of what my son had done to my body. I had also discovered I had stretch marks in my vaginal area and on my pubis. How nice and attractive. Even though my body was a beaten and battered leftover of my teenage self, my husband praised it telling me I was a woman. I started to feel comfortable in my own skin.
I became pregnant when I was 24 with my second child; a girl this time. I was so happy. Even though I had thought I would never go through that process of pregnancy again, my husband had made me feel confident and comfortable with the idea. My doctor assured me the baby would be large again. I dreaded the C-section. My husband was actually upset because of the scheduled C-section. He has previous children, and none of them were born this way. He couldn’t understand. Needless to say, I felt less than adequate because of this. In any case, regardless, I was pregnant and would deliver with or without a scar. My doctor encouraged and even recommended a VBAC. So, of course my husband was excited. I was too, because I wanted the chance to birth a child naturally. Because this baby was a girl she was not as big; but still large anyhow. I gave birth to her vaginally in September of 2010. The circumstances surrounding her birth were very trying and miserable. I found out my husband was having an affair the day before I delivered. To make it even worse, the woman, he was in love with, was pregnant by about 15 weeks. It was extremely emotionally draining. Even though the situation was terrible, I welcomed my daughter at 8 pounds 15 ounces and 21 1/2 inches. She was beautiful. No extra stretch marks; my son had paved the way. She tore me though and so my vagina had to be “reconstructed for cosmetic purposes, mostly.” Because of the stress of my marriage, and breastfeeding to boot, I was down to my pre-pregnancy weight in a matter of about 10 days. My breasts were not as large; only a D cup from the C; I produced just enough milk.
My husband and I attempted to reconcile on more than one occasion. From the time of my daughter’s birth until now, we have tried at least six times. We even discussed and attempted to get pregnant a couple of times with no success. I always felt it was probably for the best. However, during a weak moment while visiting him, I became pregnant for the third time.
Currently, I am 29 weeks with another daughter by my husband. This will make my two girls only 20 months apart. I was roughly a size 5/6 and at 130 pounds when this pregnancy surprised me. My breasts are again filling with milk and only one cup size bigger. I will welcome her in July of this year.
I have learned to love my body through the processes of pregnancy and postpartum. I am a woman. Regardless the number of women I know who have had multiple pregnancies and have no stretch marks, I do, and I cannot change it. My road map adds character. I can look at my leather-like belly and smile knowing I produced three beautiful children. Now that I am again a single mother with my third miracle on the way, I can appreciate the fact that I was able to grow and protect such a perfect being inside my body; my breasts, those deflated leftovers of a time passed, nourished them and gave them the gifts God intended. While I will ensure I am back at a healthy weight after the birth of this daughter, I will not kill myself attempting to look modelesque. I am perfect in my own skin. I am a woman and I am a mother. There is nothing better than knowing I am able to work my body the way God intended. Here is to the woman; the vessel of one of life’s most amazing blessings and miracles. Embrace your body and love yourself. If you cannot, who can?
