I had skated by with nary a stretch mark with my first baby. So, I was shocked when six months into my second “tour of duty” stretch marks took roost on the sides of my belly. To my utter horror, those stretch marks were soon followed by the rest of the “forever gang” – hemorrhoids, varicose veins, and later, the dreaded belly overhang. Postpartum, my half-confident body image sagged even more when I couldn’t make a Heidi Klum-type comeback.
Even in my fittest years, my belly had never been taut. Still, I longed for that underappreciated abdomen in a way I would have never imagined before. I regularly fantasized about breast lifts and tummy tucks. My best friend commiserated, swearing by Spanx, and my husband tried to convince me that I was sexy.
One night, after giving my girls a bath, they scampered into the bedroom towel-dried and frisky. My preschooler made a mad dash for a dresser drawer, and before I could protest, whipped on sparkly flip-flops and a headband. Thus accessorized, she strutted around the room, bare naked, staring at her sparkly sandals. She kicked her flashy feet up in the air and stuck out her Buddha belly as far as it would go. The baby noticed her sister’s fun and started toddling after her, clothed only in a diaper and knee socks, pudgy thighs rubbing together, and waving a “Thomas the Train” toothbrush in the air. I couldn’t help but delight in the unorthodox parade.
The sweetness of their innocence filled my heart and I was envious of their ability to enjoy themselves without shame, unaware of anything other than their own happiness. They reveled in their bodies’ ability to dance, run, kick and grab. I felt a rush of desire to peel off my own clothes and celebrate with them as if I’d finally been released from the bonds of cotton.
Later, lying in bed next to my gently snoring husband, I replayed the earlier scene. I thought about how my girls just appreciated what they had, not comparing, not wishing for anything else. I opened my eyes and stared up at the ceiling. The ceiling of a beautiful home I shared with a wonderful husband. A home in which we were raising happy, healthy children. If there had to be an exchange of tight skin for all this, I realized that the deal was mightily weighted in my favor. I rolled over and snuggled into my husband, spooning him and running a hand along his side. I giggled inside like a college co-ed knowing that had he been awake, I would have happily displayed my newfound gratitude.
Love love LOVE this!! I am constantly finding myself in moments like these with my boys. Where their innocence and confidence blows me away. Nino said to me the other day, “I'm a really good person.” Just out of the blue. I absolutely melted inside. I wish we could all have that great of a sense of pride in who we are.
I know Coolwhip Mom, don't you wish you could make that kind of confidence and innocence last forever for your kids? Or, at least through high school?
What a wonderful post! I loved the last bit. So often we waste a lot of energy comparing our bodies to those of others and forget what amazing bodies we have. The very fact that we gave birth, actually grew another human within us, is worth celebrating every line, mark and jiggly bit.
This post is so full of truth!! I love all of it.
Ahh, thanks Heather! Mandy, I agree that creating and carrying little human beings in itself is a reason to celebrate our bodies. (But somehow, I think God messed up a little. Shouldn't our bodies get hotter and hotter the more kids we have as a payback for the sacrifice of pregnancy and labor? Only makes sense to me.)
Kristi – I hadn't THOUGHT of that! You're totally right.
This post is terrific. Just totally, completely, terrific.
You are right, stretch marks is a small price to pay for the wonderful gift we’ve been given. Thanks for sharing!
Love how you describe the kids’ little parade. How sweet and funny! They really can teach us something, can’t they? Happy SITS day!
I am super in love with this post! Children definitely have so much to teach us!!
Beautifully said!
Someone once told me that stretch marks were like the stripes on a military uniform to determine your rank. Be proud of those, because they let you know that you have achieved a rank that some never see. With seven kids, I myself am a four star general.
This is such a sweet story; thanks for sharing and have a wonderful SITS Day and a great time sharing more stories!!!
I’ve always liked what Wayne Dyer said about babies and trying to be more like them. they’re chubby, flatulent, poop their pants and they drool – but they’re happy and in the moment. Love your staying in a place of gratitude and aware of what little ones teach us.
And, everybody loves them and thinks they are adorable despite the tooting, poopy diapers and drool.
Your words hit home for me and in the most radiant way possible. Oh to have that child innocence again, the place of total enjoyment with no thought of embarrassment. Thank you for sharing this ~ what a delight you are!
I am so in this place RIGHT now. I’ve lost the weight but the stretch marks are insane. Such a great outlook! I’m saving this post for a rainy day when I’m feeling blah about the way I look.
Isn’t it fantastic how kids will sometimes teach us lessons just by being kids? Oh to be a kid again…
It’s amazing how accepting kids are. Even though mine will point out a mole on my neck or a blemish on my nose they’re doing it out of curiosity not because they think it’s ugly. Sad to think how much that is going to change over the years.
Happy sits day!
I couldn’t agree more about not trading my life in for the most kick ass body! I may not be as thin as I once was, but I am happier than ever!
Oh my. What a discovery huh? I had this epiphany recently. Just had another birthday and longing for the glory days before the brood. But then I saw a movie, with a middle aged woman with beautiful, voluptuous mommy curves and full breasts and… omg! She was the object of fantasy. I resolved to hell with wanting pre-pubescent attributes. I AM A WOMAN. Women are sexy and bold and beautiful. Men love Women. Your man loves his woman.
little stick-figure girls are for little stick-figure boys.
Well said from a non stick figured woman!
Love this. I think about that a lot with my little girl. She is so happy and carefree right now. I dread the day when she starts to worry about what others think of her, and I pray that I don’t add to that with my own preoccupations about my own body image.
I love this! i love my older girls have not cared about how they look or act. i love that they tell me that I am beautiful and not fat (I just had a baby 4 mos ago). i love that my husband does the same. I pray everyday that I do not turn my girls into me. I still aks my husband “do I look fat” BC what girls doesn’t want to hear they look pretty? i am coming into my own and pulling myself away from all these feelings. i feel great inside and out.
Kelly, you sound like you are on the right path. Just because you worry about not making your girls self-conscious (more than they will naturally become) means that you won’t. You’re aware and you want something different for your kids. That’s awesome!