I love you.
I hate you.
You failed me.
Dear my body,
You have done wondrous things, things I never imagined possible, you traveled Europe, you carried two babies, you survived college. You are amazing. I am thankful for this body, but I am also not. I had different plans for my children’s births and you failed me. I got so sick in Europe that I almost had to come home. You did survive me through college, so I will give you that one.
I have always had very poor body imagine, ever since I could remember. I got teased that my boobs jiggled when I walked in junior high. Was called fat by boys and “friends” in high school. All these hurtles made me believe it, my body is disgusting. In high school I was around 5 foot and weighing less then 100 pounds with a binge and purge eating disorder I hid from the world but my family knew all to well.
When I went to college things were better, those teasing demons went away, but my confidence was hindered. I studied abroad my last semester of college in London where I definitely put my body to the test at all the uni parties. One day after coming home from Paris, I fell really ill. I went to the hospital twice and was out of commission for about a month. It was scary. My tonsils were so swollen they touched in the back of my throat. I obviously recovered just fine, but what the heck body, a wasted month on the experience of a lifetime. When I rekindled with my now husband, I had just come back London with some extra pounds and feeling really chunky. But he found me irresistible and could probably say the same today!
A few years later I got pregnant, I thought, no way, I was told having kids was slim to none. I was in love with this body for once. I got bigger each month, and measured good each appointment. Went into an induction labor because I was over 40 weeks. I labored without an epidural for 12 hours and with one for another 8. But my body failed me. I only dilated to 6cm, 7cm stretched. I had some swelling that they thought was my babies head and had to do a emergency c-section. I wanted a natural birth, I wanted my water to break naturally, labor without meds, even thought a water birth was for me, but no, my body had other plans.
Postpartum body was hard. I was mushy for awhile, but the weight dropped off. Didn’t go to my pre baby weight, but was confident enough to feel okay, this is me I had a baby and I still fit into everything pre baby. Then I got pregnant again, another miracle! My body gained weight again, but in different places. Had another c-section, planned but also not really wanted but I am all for safety first.
Recovered from another c-section and now carried an emotional scar for the rest of my life. My body is still dropping those extra pounds. My boobs are saggy empty milk bags. My body is different. I should be able to accept that. I need to accept that. Society is constantly screaming at you otherwise. Skinny flat tummy or your worthless.
I’m writing this for you mamas, the ones who feel alone in this body journey, the ones who are on the same journey! I am here, I see you, we all have our battles and having body dysmorphia is hard. But the more we make noise, the more people listen that it is perfectly okay to not have that washboard tummy, to have a mom bod. The mom bod is and should always be the best bod. Check out my girl over at Koffee Kids and Kusswords Blog she is a huge advocate for finding comfort in your own skin.
Don’t be ashamed, reclaim!