I Hated My Postpartum Body

I Hated My Postpartum Body

Authored by Sara Skiles

I didn't know how good I had it before the babies came. 6'2” and 140 pounds, enough thick curly hair for five people, creamy unblemished skin.

Ever seen that funny meme on Facebook? “I wish I weighed what I did back when I thought I was fat!” I felt that all the way to my bones.

Pregnancy was tough. The process of pregnancy and childbirth triggered an autoimmune condition in my previously super-healthy body, and I was ravaged by anxiety and depression. In the last months of pregnancy I outgrew size after size, and had to order bras and underwear online because they didn't sell any big enough in the stores. I watched as my pale skin stretched and tore, deep purple slashes appearing on my stomach, hips and thighs. I finally hit 240 pounds, joints and muscles in agony, before giving birth.

With my baby in my arms instead of my belly, I thought my body looked like a lump of bread dough. I thought “at least when I was pregnant, I had a reason for being big.” As someone used to turning heads, my confidence and self esteem really took a beating.

It's not politically correct these days to hate your body, especially your postpartum body. We're told to love ourselves, that we're tigers who earned our stripes, and that we should be grateful to have been able to give birth to a baby. (I mean, we are. Why wouldn't we be?)

Change is hard. I think there can be a real grieving process involved when we lose the person we used to be and become someone else. Our pre-mom selves and our mom selves are totally different – we've just undergone one of the biggest, most significant transformations a human being can go through. It changes us in many ways. We can mourn one part of it while simultaneously looking to the future with hope and gratitude.

I've lost 50 pounds, and no amount of “clean eating” or exercising will make that number go any lower. (Thanks, thyroid!) I finally had to box up my favorite dresses, and buy new ones. I deserve to have some outfits that I feel beautiful in.

I'm used to who I am now, and she has grown stronger and wiser in so many ways that I actually kinda like her...a lot. Some days, my husband comes up behind me when I'm standing in front of the mirror. He can't look away and I think “oh yeah, I'm sexier than ever.”

I've learned too much, seen too much, and done too much to go back to who I used to be. Even if I had twice as much hair back then.