Whose Body is That?

This morning I was laying on my side on the bed with Mira. She has started this non-crawl crawl where she will rotate herself all the way around while on her belly so she can see what mischief she can get into in 360 degrees around her. So there I am, checking Facebook like the awesome morning person I am, when I feel a jab to my stomach. I look down and Mira has started attacking my gut. She seems to be enjoying the fact that she can grab the skin there and pull on it and is giggling to herself while trying to pull it to her mouth.

This is one of many situations I could never have gotten into pre-baby, because when I gave birth I was gifted this new and improved mommy body. It has extra tummy skin for grabbing and stretch marks to help Mira learn how to count...to 100....it is larger so you can't lose me in a crowd and its achy so I remember to take life slowly. My new bladder is so excited about peeing that it can hardly wait for me to sprint to the bathroom and just goes completely crazy if I sneeze or jump up and down. Don't even get me started on my breasts, I don't know who these puppies belong to, but they are definitely not what I'm used to. This is my new me, and some days it isn't an easy pill to swallow.

I actually really enjoyed pregnancy. 

 

It was suddenly completely socially acceptable to be a round whale and no one could make fun of me for having  kankles (I have included a picture of my kankles to the right. It is small so it doesn't scare small children that might walk by while you are reading this). I spent 39.5 glorious weeks being totally ok with my slowly expanding waistline and knowing that every pound I put on was keeping that baby cushioned and safe.
After Mira was born, I lost 25 lbs in like a week. I was certain it was because I was breastfeeding (never mind the 15+ lbs of baby and amniotic fluid) and that the rest of the 43 lbs I gained during the pregnancy were just going to fall right off over the next few months. Unfortunately I was wrong, and I slowly started to realize that my 20lb friend wasn't planning on
going anywhere anytime soon.

So what do you do when your body is not your own and yet, really it is? There is a grieving process. It took me a while to accept that my c-section scar was a very permenant part of me and that my feet would forever be a half size larger than they used to be. But then there is an acceptance process. I'm not saying that I am chill with my current poundage, but we are working on that (lots of baby wearing squats and a lot less chocolate cupcakes). What I'm talking about is when you look in the mirror and instead of seeing scars, stretch marks, and wider hips, you see your baby in your arms and somehow it makes it all ok. I still have moments, and I probably always will, but I think it's ok to mourn the loss of our previous selves as we continue our journey to full acceptance.

So stretch marks, though you make me embarrassed when my shirt rides up in public, thank you for being there so my skin didn't explode while I was growing my tiny human. Breasts, you worked hard friends, you deserve some time to relax (just don't hit the waistline, that's too relaxed). And hips, though your wider girth makes my old pants cry, you are pretty useful for holding Mira on when I am carrying things. Hello new me, let's be friends.