MOM BOD Pt. 2>
I’ve had this photo sitting in my Instagram drafts for three months. It’s been something of a conundrum for me, since it makes me feel proud and embarrassed all at the same time. The reality is that it doesn’t look much different to this day, over five months postpartum. The stretch marks are definitely less intense, but the wrinkly skin is still there, and my belly button is, well, we won’t talk about my belly button—you already know it’s a sore subject for me. I see photos of moms two or three months postpartum with totally normal tummies that, even if not totally flat, are at least taught and toned. You’d never know they’d just been stretched to kingdom come. Apparently my genetics aren’t coded that way. After my bout with stomach flu last week, I got down to a few pounds below what I was before I got pregnant with Perry, and my arms and legs are finally starting to tone. But my tummy, I fear, will never be the same. And I’m struggling with that. I was afraid to post this because it felt almost like admitting failure. It makes sense a few months out. But at some point, it must mean you’re not trying, right? Or that something is “wrong” with your body? And then on the flip side, I felt like a failure for not owning what motherhood has done to my body so far. I’m trying not to be embarrassed at the pool or wonder what the other girls think when they see my stomach. I try to tell myself they’re not feeling sorry for me or sending up subconscious thanks that their stomachs are flat and toned. I try to be realistic, too, because number two is not far behind and I know I can’t worry about what my body looks like when my baby making days aren’t even over. I don’t have any ground breaking statement to make or lesson to share since I’m still deep in the trenches with this one. My original caption simply said, “We did it all for the glory of love.” Maybe I should have just left it at that.