Let’s be real, the pressure to “bounce back” after having a baby is REAL.
To lose the “baby weight”, to “exercise” to “eat right” or “diet”. I mean, celebrities bounce back to their pre-baby bodies, so why can’t I?
The number of these posts I see on social media is astounding- and honestly heartbreaking. Look at this article about how “incredible” these celeb “transformations” were. Or the article explaining how to get your body back.
Let’s get real for a minute.
I know we all want to look and feel out best, but we grew an entire human AND an extra organ! And if you’re in the US like I am, you employer likely only allows you 6-8 weeks of maternity leave to “heal” your body. Never mind bonding with your child or get used to life as a new family.
I’m sure the majority of us don’t have a Nanny, or a Cook, or a Maid (and if you do, more power to ya – I’m jealous!). We don’t have a personal trainer or a plastic surgeon on call. We don’t have endless hours to spend at the gym, or the extra money to buy that trendy smoothie everyone is raving about.
From childhood, we’re immersed in images of the “perfect body”.
(Granted, things have come a long way since the early 2000’s when I was a kid.) It’s nice to see models out there with stretch marks, soft bellies, and even actual plus size representation. But still to this day, I don’t really see anyone who has my body shape. (Before and after giving birth). And honestly? That’s OKAY. It’s a bit frustrating, sure, but that doesn’t mean I have to look like those models to like how I look or to know I’ll look good in something I want to wear.
I used to be, 110 lbs in high school. Then my metabolism caught up with me. Right before my due date with my daughter, I hit 200 lbs. The midwives were great to measure in kilograms, but I know how to roughly estimate what that would be in lbs.
It was a scary number to me.
How could I have been so small, and now I’ve almost doubled that? I’m twice the amount of people I was. But I also remind myself, I graduated high school 15 years ago! (My reunion is coming up!) Of course my body isn’t going to be the same it was when I was 17. Just like my personality and my character and my soul, I’ve grown. I’ve changed. I’ve matured. And that’s not a bad thing!
I could spend all day stressing about what I’m going to wear, how I’m going to fit into the smaller sized jeans at the back of my closet, or count the calories I’ve eaten each day. (All things I’ve done in the past.) Or, I could realize that the size I am now (165lbs…ish? I don’t think we even own a scale) is an okay size to be.
Sure, I’d love to loose 10-15lbs. But it’s hardly even spring here in Maine. We’ve had a couple nice days, but it’s been raining just about every day here. It’s hard to drag a toddler out into the 55°F weather and expect her to enjoy her time outside.
Yeah, we could exercise inside. But I’d rather not have her using me as a jungle gym while I try to do yoga in the living room. (Having 2 dogs and 2 cats don’t help either.)
So instead, I’ll focus on what’s actually important.
Playing with my daughter.
Teaching her fun things.
Teaching her new words.
Letting her try new foods.
I’m really lucky that she wants to try everything we eat. She’s more of a savory kid then a sweet one. (Idk who she got that from, it wasn’t me or her father).
I also refuse to let her grow up mentally fighting with herself over her body. That battle is hard enough as it is with everything that’s thrown at us from outside sources.
Instead, I’ll teach her to enjoy all kinds of foods. To show her that it’s okay to have sweets, in moderation.
We’re going to have a garden this year and I want her to be involved, so she gets the satisfaction of growing her own food.
Instead of hating her body, I want her to love her body.
And for me to teach her to love her body, I am choosing to love mine.
To love the lumpy parts and the bumpy parts.
To love the stripes on my belly and the new shape of my breasts. (Breastfeeding really does a number on those puppies!).
I love my slightly crooked nose and that one eye that squints just a little more than the other. I love the way I laugh and the way I talk. I love that my body created another human! That it did the work it had to bring her into this world and in my arms.
Why should I speak so badly of the marvel I lived through?
(Even if I did loathe being pregnant, but that’s a story for another time.)
My body (for the most part) is healthy. It tells me when something is wrong or if I’m sick. It’s full of love and happiness and believes in the goodness in other people. My body is part of what makes me, me!
One of the biggest moments in my life that made me learn to love the body I have, is realizing that it’s the only one I get.
I had a friend who hated being in pictures because of how they looked. They hated their body, their smile, their laugh. One day, I saw a post on social media that said to Take the picture anyways, so future generations can remember you.
This still sticks with me.
Someday, we all leave this earth. Pictures are the only tangible proof that we were here.
If I were to be gone tomorrow, I wouldn’t want my biggest regret to be that my daughter wouldn’t remember my face.
My smile.
My crooked nose.
My slightly squinty eye.
I want her to be able to share photos someday with the people she loves. When I’m long gone from this earth and that’s all she has left. Photographs and memories. But if I waste my time, hating the body I’m in, I don’t get to be present with her. I’ll deny being in the pictures that could hold a strong moment of love. So I will choose to accept my body, as it was when I was younger, as it is today, and as it will change as I get older.
Dear Body,
Thank you for bringing me on this journey of life. For growing with me, both to adulthood and into motherhood.
Thank you for growing my child, my most precious treasure. For allowing me the privilege of bringing her into this world.
Thank you for adapting, for being ever changing. For allowing me to see, to think, to feel.
Even though our journey together hasn’t been the easiest, I thank you for toughing it out with me.
Thank you for weathering the hardest days, the heart break, and the breakdowns.
Thank you for holding me steady through growing, both physically and mentally.
Thank you for guiding me through this life, for fighting through health conditions and illness, in order for me to become who I am today, and for who I’ll be tomorrow.
I promise to honor you and appreciate you as we age. I will keep you healthy, (within my control) and do my best to take care of you through the rest of this life. I promise you accept you as you are now, and as we will be tomorrow. In time, I may want to change some things, but only to the betterment of both of us.
Love,
Casie
I hope that this speaks to you.
And that if you’re still struggling with your body, I hope you can take something from this and be a little kinder to yourself.
You deserve self love.
You deserve peace.
You deserve to be remembered in every way possible.
I promise you are worthy, no matter the season your body is in.
