| Belly Confessions |
There is this absolutely amazing site called The Shape of a Mother, which chronicles women of every shape and size and their struggles/acceptance of their changed shape after bearing children.
I read this site captivated by the different struggles woman have with their changed shape but often find myself rather angry with those who bitch and moan about their lumps and bumps when they actually have their baby to hold and love. What I wouldn’t give for a huge pile of stretch marks to be holding Ava right now.
It’s really got me thinking about my own journey of bodily change. As much as finding it petty and irrelevant that anyone would complain about their body when their child was actually born healthy into this world bothers me, I do realize that I’m also a total hypocrite. I’m vain too, and I’m struggling with the same body issues. I guess deep down vanity isn’t an easy obstacle to overcome.
Most days I’m seething mad that my body went through everything it did only to be left childless in the end. My shape has never been the same. I’m thicker everywhere and much of my old wardrobe has been collecting dust waiting for my original waist and 34 inch hips to make a miraculous comeback. The worst of it is the gnarly c-section scar that will forever be a reminder of the emergency surgery I underwent. The last thing I remember before being cut open is being held down on the operating table by three people while I screamed through a contraction pleading for them to save my baby before the knock out gas was placed on my face. I wish I could see the gentle grace of Ava in my scar, but all I see is fear and pain.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. The grief of losing Ava is bearable. I can accept it. The trauma of that day still brings me to my knees and I can’t seem to move past it.
Sometimes it’s hard to remember that babies are actually conceived and born into this world with a fighting chance. I’m trying to focus on the positives of pregnancy, and not dwell on what I can’t change. In keeping with the theme of positivity, I might have a new body after carrying a child for nine months, but I’m one lucky bitch when it comes to pregnancy – at least when it comes to symptoms of the physical nature.
With my first pregnancy:
I didn’t get constipated and my ass was spared the grief of hemorrhoids.
I have no stretch marks, and never ended up with that freaky streaky linea nigra down my belly.
My gams, although subjected to normal swelling, survived pregnancy with naught a hint of varicose veins or an evil web of spider veins
To this day I don’t think I even know what heartburn would feel like, and certainly was spared the horrors of indigestion.
I had no weird cravings, (unless Rice Krispie squares and dill pickle Crispi Mini’s (not together) are weird.
I had no slimly oozy trail of discharge and no vaginal infections. In fact, I couldn’t even tell you what a yeast infection feels like because the gods above baking those vagina loaves have spared me from ever knowing that monstrosity.
My mammary glands did not subject my nipples to leaky yellow colostrum dribbles and my back aches were, in hindsight, mild.
I didn’t get carpel tunnel or the “mask of pregnancy” and I gained a perfect 27 lbs, which even though was plenty for me, was on the low side of the 25 – 35 recommended pounds considering my starting weight.
In all seriousness, the worst I had was acne, fat ankles, sleepiness and tender gums interspersed with bouts of oafish clumsiness and popcorn-head forgetfulness. My hair became lustrously thick and gorgeous, I barely had to shave my legs (!?!), and I only had two hormonal meltdowns which was probably due to the fact that my days were 11 or 12 hours long with my commute, and I still managed to do all the chores and work out every freaking day!
Oh, and I only one headache that made me want to dismantle and rip my head off for relief.
I suppose once I hit the seven month mark the remainder of my pregnancy was switched to high risk/high concern, but as far as physical symptoms, I was spared the worst and blessed with a rather lucky pregnancy. Particularly since the entire mass of baby weight and then some came off afterwards. This was a saving grace because when it comes to the shape of a mother, it’s really hard to look at my war wounds and new body only to have no baby to make it all feel worthwhile.
So now that I’ve come forward with my pregnancy confessional, anyone who has journeyed through pregnanthood now has my permission to hate me from the bottom of my hooves to the top of my pitchfork.
I’ve probably jinxed myself into looking like a blown out tuba by the time this baby is ready to be delivered, but so far the cottage cheese situation (not happening) on my ass looks promising. Labels: Pregnancy, Thinking Out Loud |
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I was already not thin when I got pregnant, so I had no issues whatsoever with my body.
I was lucky enough to have never vomited or any of the other symptoms you mentioned, either.
I was high risk though, so I guess it made up for the lack of all that.
Would have rather had some pregnancy mask than worrying.
Hmmmm, I want to be insanely jealous of you, really I do. However, given the circumstances, I suppose I am lucky. Perhaps you have given me the insight to overlook the awful things pregnancy has done to me and look at what I got from it. I might, might, even refrain from rubbing it in the faces of my kids one day that they did that to me...but I doubt it. Let's just hope that this time, not only do you get a stretch mark or two...but also a beautiful baby to match!
Well I think you are entitled to feel however you want. Given your circumstances I can see how you can not get past the trauma of the day Ava was born and passed away!
Karla I am so excited for you and cant wait to see this beautiful healthy baby at the end of this journey!
You will probably have the same kind of pregnancy (minus the high risk part) this time around, too. I am pregnant with number 6 right now, and have had bascially the same kinds of pregnancy each time. If you didn't get heartburn, you were eating right to start with. None of that other stuff *has* to come with pregnancy.
When you have it easy, you do run the risk of being called a breeder, or someone who was made for childbirth. Something tells me you're in a position to appreciate that, though.
Even with permission I can't hate you! You've earned your hot body with your careful eating habits and running. You rock!
Have you ever read Jenny McCarthy's books?? I think you would enjoy her writing style. Belly Laughs, Baby Laughs and Life Laughs. Check them out!!
I look at it this way...
My whole purpose in life just may be to make other people feel better about themselves. And, I am GOOD at it!!!
It's a dirty job, but somebody has to do it.
After I lost my first baby (second trimester), I sometimes had a difficult time dealing with emotions of how the next baby would not be here if the first baby hadn't died.
I have never reconciled that.
Wouldn't trade my son in for anything, but I DO still have those feelings, 26 years later.
My body wasn't all that was changed.
My emotions still emote strange and sundry feelings.
They never really leave us, those offspring who go on before us. They have their ways of reminding us that no matter what, they were here and they were real.
I find that strangely comforting.
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Gina : August 04, 2006 
