Belly!

Ok, so at first the idea of a whole post about my belly was a little weird to me. Like I don't post a ton of facebook statuses about breastfeeding, or DB's poops, or what I did within the first 2 hours of waking. I just think there are some things that you, my readers, don't really need or want to know! I just keep thinking about my belly, and what I start to think about, I start to think of writing about. It dawned on me in my think think thinking that this isn't about my belly, its more about self-image. And THAT is something I can write on.

Before DB, I had a decent body. Other people seemed to think it was great! I didn't. I just didn't like how I looked, with the exception of a brief period (after a hard-fought weight loss) from around November 2009 onward. We got pregnant February of 2010. Prior to that, I fluctuated weight, and I wasn't ever really thrilled with my body, but I didn't really feel like I needed to hide out in swimsuit weather. I just donned my two-piece (and a biscuit??) and off I went. Even after I felt good about my shape that November, I still had nagging doubts and thoughts that just wouldn't go away. I just wasn't really "proud" of my body. I spent a large amount of time jealous of other women (or more often, teen girls) who had what I wanted: THAT body. This was all before baby.

Now my body's a wreck. A really hot mess. Sometimes my boobs are different sizes, by a lot. I resist the urge to squish my hand into my stomach like a memory foam mattress, though that's about what the consistency reminds me of, and the stretch marks running down my belly, around my killed dead belly button, and across my newly hugenized hips are proof enough that you can make indentions, and they stay a LOT longer than a hand print in memory foam. It's certainly nothing you'd say was ready for swimsuit or lingere modeling, but that's ok with me, because those aren't jobs I hold, I'm just a mommy. And now I LOVE my body.

Don't get me wrong, I still want to lose some more of the baby weight, and I'd love to be a little more toned. Its really been a strange journey from there to here. I hear some women say they want their pre-baby body back. I can relate, kinda. But one thing's for sure, I don't want my pre-baby body image back. Weird or not, I feel like my body accomplished something, and this, plus that precious, puking, giggling, chunk of cuteness sleeping over there is the result.

Some of this may be because The Hero and I walked a long path of infertility together on our way to here. I really thought, somewhat naively, I suppose, that you pulled the goalie and BAM, you're so knocked up! That's what you learn in health class, right? And there's all those people with "oops" babies, too. Well, I guess it does work that way for some, for some it takes a little longer, and for some, well, it takes a lot longer and a little help. The testing began! The Hero is cleared as having fantastic swimmers, the problems are with me! Oh great, not only to I have like a whole 5 extra pounds of insecurity around my middle, now my body is failing me from the inside too. That's how I felt, like I was being failed. Not only that, I felt like I was failing The Hero, and even, at some of the darker points, my parents, who would be fantastic grandparents if only I weren't failing so epically.

I know that's not quite fair, nor is it the bigger picture, but we're not discussing how things are, we're discussing how things are in my head. If you're like me, or if you're human, you know that things in your head don't always reflect clearly things in reality. I felt like my body was a massive failure. Then the day we were waiting and hoping for finally came. I peed on the magical sticks that had driven me into the arms of chocolate and wine on many previous occasions, and lo and behold, a magical second line. B. F. P. (Big Fat Postitive, Big F****** Positive, you get the gist) I was immediately on the quest for a bigger belly. Bugging The Hero constantly to feel my tummy, did anything feel different? Hours of inspection in front of the mirror, suck it in, let it out, repeat. Finally, it happened, I was noticeably a different shape! Hooray! Then I was a much larger shape. Then I was shapes I didn't think could happen. Then I was shapes covered in a pattern of lines. There were tears. Tears over the shapes, tears over the marks, tears over the sheer uncomfortable puffiness of the whole thing. The Hero was supportive, or terrified by the hormonal whale on the couch and mimicked support to avoid being screamed at and then eaten. Either way, it was nice, but I felt sore, huge, and hideous.I felt like I'd be that way forever.

Well, like all things (good or otherwise) it came to an end, or a beginning, depending on your perspective. DB was here, and I still looked pregnant (WHAT?? yes, you'll still look pregnant, but only for a little while), more tears. Then I deflated and looked even worse than when I still looked pregnant. Grass was not greener. Proceed with the wallowing in self-pity. Lightbulb! My body had accomplished something! Something epic, monumental, awesome! This didn't hit me after labor, or at the end of a long pregnancy, it was weeks later, but it hit me. My body was no longer a failure, and this was indelible proof. DB will grow up, I won't always get to wake up right next to him, but I will always wake up in this skin, and now I have his little signature there, a reminder of accomplishment and love.

Fortunately The Hero doesn't mind the changes, he's even admired the stretch marks as looking "cool" and "like a phoenix and flames" (that does sound pretty cool, I have to admit), but now I'm accepting them too. I can honestly say that while I still have insecurities sometimes, I feel better about my body than I have in years. I can't wait for swimsuit weather, but not to show off my body, just because the sunshine will feel so good, and I can't wait to show DB the beach. I'll be there, but I won't be focusing on other people's bodies. I'll be focusing on my life, and how it's changed me, and I'm loving it.