Having kids changes you in many ways. One of the most obvious ways is your appearance. MOST of us morph into what I like to call the “Mom Bod.” It’s not always pleasant and I’ve come to realize that it’s OK to not be in love with it.
I’ve struggled with body image my whole life. Well, technically from when I can remember. My mom swears I was “on the right track” until I spent a month with my Czechoslovakian grandma, who fed me every second she could when I was in fourth grade. God, I miss that woman… ANYWHO… I’ve struggled. While I have struggled, so has my mother, which, and absolutely to no fault of her, I think is much of the reason I pay so much attention to my body image and weight. My mom made sure to feed us as much healthy food as she could. When I was in grade school, my favorite food was tofu. I mean, she did a good job of sheltering us. What she also taught me, unknowingly I’m sure, was that weight was important. I watched that woman (and still do) weigh herself every morning and every night. Getting completely naked beforehand; even making sure to pee first. So, naturally, I grew up with all of those things on my mind.
Fast forward to my first pregnancy. The being pregnant part was easy. I knew there wasn’t much I could do to keep myself from gaining and looking pregnant, so I wasn’t concerned about that. However, AFTER he was born was another story. Realizing I had morphed and was now the proud owner of a new mom bod….? Pure torture for me. I hated myself. I hated the way I looked. How I felt in clothes, how my body made these rolls and sags. It was rough. There was a lot of self-ridicule and desperate attempts to “get skinny.”
Fast forward to our second pregnancy.
I was HUGE:
See? And it was all baby. He was 9 lbs. 5 oz. of pure dead weight. And he breastfed like a mad man. He ate so much that I looked emaciated after about 9 months. It was like magic! I didn’t have to do anything but let him eat. He ate and I lost weight. Buuuuut then I weaned him and, well, I’m sure you can guess what happened…
Fast forward one more time to our third pregnancy. Keeping in mind that I’m almost 30 and he’s my third baby. I ate a little more than I should have. I was a lot less active. So here I am, post-labor, thinking all I’ve got to do is breastfeed this little guy and the weight will come right off because that’s what happened with my second baby, right?
Boy, was I WRONG! You should have seen me. Each month would creep up and I would either be the same weight or teetering on gaining. It was bad. And defeating. Finally, I weaned my little suckler at 14 months. And wouldn’t you know it; I was still “fat.” In fact, I was still wearing my maternity shorts! I was back to feeling defeated.
This was a turning point for me I think. I was going down the wrong path and I knew it. Not only was I still doing nothing to change things but I was doing things that I didn’t normally do.
I think I was doing them because I was depressed. I was back to hating myself and almost everything about me. Still in maternity clothes when my youngest was 14 months old?! Nope. I had to do something.
In November of this past year I made myself a promise to change. Not only for myself but for my kids and my husband.
So. I changed. I googled, I Pinterested, I looked up recipes, I saved inspirational quotes, I got apps and a fitness watch. I did everything I could to get motivated to not despise my mom bod and myself anymore.
And do you know what I learned? I learned that it’s OK to not love your mom bod. It doesn’t make you any less of a mother or woman to not love the skin you’re in.
In fact, I’m almost thankful I wasn’t in love with myself, because it was my frustration that gave me the driving force to change. I know I’m not perfect and am still very far from being where I want to be, but just the fact that I took those steps to change is empowering. I remind myself of that every day. If I can show my kids that all you have to do is make the decision to do something and that that’s the first step, then I’ve reached my goal.