Body image seems to be no stranger to most women. My struggle with it could be about 4 other blog posts aside from this one. However, I just wanted to document one moment. One that was very eye opening for me and very touching. Something I want to remember when I am down on myself again, as I know it will happen.
Having children takes a tole on you body. Before children, I knew exactly what I needed to eat and exactly how to work out to be where I needed to be. (though even then I thought, if I could just get rid of this pouch....)
Now I feel like I am trapped in something that is completely new to me. Something that does not respond to my usual regime. Something that struggles with weird injurys due to moving hips. Something that is saggy in the middle no matter what I do and we won't even get into what breastfeeding does....not to mention what I have to eat to keep up my milk supply. I thought I would have it figured out by baby #2 but, someone forgot to tell me that your body will be completely different after each baby. NOTHING is the same.
I try not to let this discourage me. But it is difficult. As someone who has always struggled with feeling pretty, these road blocks can get to me. Saturday night was one of those nights. I found myself looking at pictures of when Cory and I were engaged and newly married. I looked at those pictures and how thin and pretty I looked. Wondering if I could ever feel confident in my own body again.
Then came sunday. It was Mother's day. I had not had much sleep (1 hour anyone?), and I was trying to get ready for church and the all too familiar scenario played out. I had nothing to wear. Anything that happened to actually fit my body(my chubby and flabby and unflattering body) at the time wouldn't work because, not only do I have to dress this strange body of mine, I also have to be able to plop down and breastfeed my baby as well. Dresses...don't work, skirts with a cute top tucked in...tried it and its a major pain, and button down shirts work in theory but in reality they pull and pop in all the wrong places, everything else did not fit over my stomach. Nothing. Its supposed to be a day where I feel bright eyed and well rested and can go to church in cute clothes and be honored. And I felt the exact opposite. (despite my dear husbands efforts and he really was doing his best.)
So I trudged off to church feeling frumpy and ready for the day to be over.
Church its self was good. As much as I could pay attention in my grumpy and tired state. But it was what happened after that mattered.
After church I picked Jocelyn up from class and she excitedly held up a mother's day project she had made and yelled "Happy Mother's Day Mom!" I think that was the beginning of my change of heart. It was so cute.
As we walked home, Jocelyn talked to me about many things. It was a good walk. (she also told me her project was actually hers but I could pretend it was mine if I want.)During that walk, I marveled that she was my daughter. My 3 year old with so much to say. I was her mother. And Calli's who, bless her sleepless soul, was so cute as well.
By the time we got home I had decided that, even thought I felt ugly and fat and was everything I don't want to see in a picture, I wanted a picture of me and the girls. Because I will never get this day back. So I asked Cory to take some pictures.
It was not until the girls were sleeping that night that I got to look at the pictures. (and it was not easy to get them to sleep either.) And that is when it hit me. These were not fancy pictures with a fancy camera. No fancy editing. Just Cory snapping away as I attempted to get the girls to both look.
But as I looked at these pictures, of me with my two beautiful girls whom I love and they love me, I felt like the mother I was looking at was beautiful. I actually felt beautiful. I felt like I was looking at the someone who looked just as good as the person I was looking at in pictures on Saturday night. But she was different, because she was a mom. The tired eyes did not show, the soft middle was hidden, double chin...not there, but something else was there. I am not sure what, but it is there.
Motherhood has taken a toll on my body and mind, especially my body. It is hard, and will continue to be hard. But I am glad I have that picture. A picture I can look at and say, I feel beautiful. A picture that gives me a little glimpse of my mom, who radiates that beauty more than I could ever hope to. And maybe someday, I will truly feel that way even without looking at that picture.
