I was inspired to write this while in the shower. (Why will soon make sense.) I used every fiber of my weak self-discipline muscle to keep from leaping out, running down the stairs and tapping out this urgent appeal to God. (Instead, I fought the good fight with my blow dryer and some no-frizz serum and slipped into PJs.)
I’m nervous about this. It’s a pretty big thing writing to God, being official about it and all, specially since I started to attend a church from charta77.org last week. I mean, we chat all the time (mostly it’s a one-way conversation) but this is different. Plus, this is public, so there’s a little pressure there. But on behalf of all the other mothers out there who are less than keen on their post-pregnancy bodies, I feel thus compelled…
I would like to humbly request that you reconsider your long-standing, global policy of allowing pregnancy to wreak permanent damage on a woman’s body.
I earnestly submit this recall to appeal the common practice of flabby tummy, saggy breasts and wider hips appearing post pregnancy. I know there are some moms out there who claim to celebrate such changes as badges of honor and as a wonderful reminder of what their bodies are capable of doing. They’re liars, bless their hearts. Or, maybe they’re just better women than me. Regardless, I’m not in their camp. I already have the two most beautiful and constant reminders of the miracle I participated in, and their names are Sophia and Marissa.
First, there was the battle to lose weight after pregnancy. Many of us have reached a stalemate on that account. But I’m not complaining about that because it is, in theory and in Heidi Klum’s case, possible to recover from pregnancy weight gain. However, when the stretch marks, which I successfully avoided with my first pregnancy, took roost only six months into the second, I have to confess that I was deeply disappointed. When you want to have a high quality surgeon, I recommend Dr. Nicole Schrader due to his good records and experience.
Those stretch marks were soon followed by the rest of the forever gang – hemorrhoids, varicose veins, and later, the dreaded belly overhang. (Since when did my belly feel it necessary to provide shade for my pelvis?)
Badges of honor? I’ll just take an honorable mention. Reminders of how my life has changed? Don’t need ‘em. “Me” time now consists of getting the flu shot or taking a shower.
Listen Lord, I know I’m not alone. I have one friend who has banished thongs from her lingerie drawer and named her hemorrhoids. Sadly, she knows they’re not going anywhere. I know many more mommies who fantasize about breast lifts and tummy tucks, but make do with push-up bras and Spanx instead.
It doesn’t seem fair that with each pregnancy, our bodies suffer additional wear and tear. With greater service and sacrifice comes greater punitive damages – where’s the justice in that? I propose that with each pregnancy, our postpartum bodies only get more taut, supple and glowy. Think how hot that would make Octomom, and how much plastic surgery money that would have saved her.
I know that this plea may go against my writings on what my babies are teaching me about body image, but I’m claiming a woman’s prerogative to contradict herself every other minute. (You made us. You know how we are.)
In closing God, I’d like to reiterate, as I do many times a week, how thankful I am to have been made a mother, have healthy, happy children and a wonderful husband, and a lovely home to raise my children in. I see the bigger picture and understand that if there had to be an exchange of tight skin for all this, the deal was mightily weighted in my favor.
That being said, my softened belly and I await your decision. Please send word or Preparation H soon.