I was scrolling the 'gram this morning when a post caught me in my tracks.
Ok, who am I kidding, I was sprawled out on my bed stalling from having to get up and clean my house.
It was a post from a husband, talking about his wife's body after delivering their 3 healthy, beautiful kids (his three best friends he calls them).
For the millions of reasons it can be hard sometimes to be a woman, insecurity of our body postpartum is a big one.
Birthing a child changes everything about a person and we assume that different means worse.
I remember when I was pregnant with my first, I wondered about this all the time.
Will he love me as much when I look different?
Was I naive to think that? I don't think so.
I think many of us share the same thoughts trying to navigate that zone of unknowing.
I was full term with our first child and we arrived at the hospital to deliver.
The nurses were checking me in and walked me up to the scale. My husband, naturally standing alongside me didn't get my glare to stand back.I didn't want him to know that I weighed more than him... despite the fact that I was carrying a full-term baby.
What was I thinking?
I felt great, we had a healthy child, everything seemed to be in place.
But I still couldn't help feeling like I would be loved less.
But what I don't know at the time is the magic that comes along with a changing body.
After having 5 kids, I know it's worth the trade-off.
Sometimes, I still look down and think gosh I need to work on that.
Or my kids will poke my loose stomach laughing asking if I'm having another baby.
But my husband, he's delighted.
He rubs my body with the biggest (sometimes creepy) smile.
Of course, he must notice it's different.
But life as a whole is better than it ever was when that ole stomach was flat.
Hayley asked me to write something about her postpartum body.
I figured it’d be easy but then I started thinking—what is there to even write about?
Sure, things look and feel slightly different--but in the grand scheme of things, nothing changed.
The reasons I fell in love with her had nothing to do with any of the body parts affected by her postpartum.
She still has the same beautiful smile, determined mind, banging body, and strong work ethic as the girl I fell in love with over 15 years ago.
She still has the same sense of humor.
She still smells great and tastes great too.
Her postpartum body does look and feel slightly different, but why should that be a factor in my life at all?
The soft pillowy skin around her belly button held my three best friends for 18 months.
The marks show the strength it took to carry the weight of two beautiful girls that will be raised by this badass mom.
Nothing has changed or altered my love for my wife.
I’m literally doing the bare minimum by loving my wife for who she is, “imperfections” and all.
Imperfections make the world fun.
If everything was Barbie doll perfect, wouldn’t we all get bored?
How else would we show what life has put us through?
So whether it’s regrettable tattoos, scars, surgeries, dumb facial hair, or a postpartum tummy, honestly...who gives a shit?
Be good to each other. Learn from mistakes-yours and others. Help those in need and let’s stop dwelling on who looks like what.
My wife isn’t perfect and that’s what makes me love her.
That’s why you are all reading this.
If she was perfect, not one of you would be able to relate to her.
And to the husbands out there that don’t do their fair share of diaper duty, cooking, cleaning, and telling your wife how beautiful she is—step up your game bro.
So yeah, I was supposed to write about a belly.... but honestly, it affects me so little I rambled about everything else.