Mommy Monday: Struggling With Body Image

There's been a lot of "fluffy" posts on An Uncomplicated Life Blog recently. I like lighthearted stuff too, but I don't want this to become just another fluffy, tip-providing lifestyle blog. Thus, I figured it was time to shake things up and have a serious conversation about an obnoxious, tricky subject: body image.

Last week, I shared this pic on Insta, comparing my pre-pregnancy self with my super-pregs self and my current self.

I was flattered by how many positive and encouraging comments I got from it! Seriously, thank you all. I'm also sure there were plenty of eye rolls and smirks, too. I still want to thank those folks, because you didn't publicly post any of your negativity. Thanks for keeping that tucked inside your dark self!

I'm always honest on this here blog of mine, so why stop with body image and baby weight loss, right? There are many challenges that come with motherhood. Body image has been the biggest personal hurdle for me. Well, that and lack of sleep... But that post would start and end with "Oh my gosh I am so unbelievably, uncontrollably, undeniably tired. The end."

I digress.

As you can see from the pre-pregnancy pic, I'm a fitness and nutrition nut. I enjoy working out five to six days a week. I enjoy eating veggies. Because all of that effort enabled me to be strong and athletic.

I worked out five days a week throughout my pregnancy. Even in the exhausting and pukey first trimester and even in the massive, back-breaking third trimester. I developed a pretty big sweet tooth. While I gave in occasionally, I mostly stuck with my veggie-based organic diet. All that discipline resulted in me gaining 25 pounds, the low end of what's recommended during pregnancy.

After Henry was born, I just started dropping weight. I lost 20 pounds in the first three weeks! Every day I woke up to a smaller waist! I thought returning to my pre-baby body was going to be so easy! I mean, I had done everything right before and during the pregnancy, so that was a given, right? Yeah. No. I thought wrong.

I started seriously getting back into my workouts and eating insanely healthy. Everyday. And still, the results were (and still very much are) S-L-O-W.

I mean, what the heck?! Why wasn't this happening for me at the rate I wanted it to? I have two distinct body image memories from this early time after Henry was born. First, someone said that my priority should be on my baby and not my body. I nearly punched this person in the face! Feel free to dictate your own priorities, but please leave mine alone. After you have a baby, EVERYTHING becomes about the baby. I mean, I didn't go to the bathroom so he could eat when he wanted! Getting my figure back and working out to feel good again was one piece of me that I wanted for me. For my sanity, not my vanity. (Ooooook, maybe a little vanity too. Whatevs, I'm human.) I also wanted to punch all the new mom's who said they "weren't even thinking about the baby weight right now" as they slipped back into their pre-pregnancy jeans. REALLY? You didn't think about it at all, huh? Well good for fickin' you.

The other memory is tougher to share. I debated not going there, but hell, I'm already this deep into it, so why not? I was getting out of the shower (yay, a shower!) when I made the mistake of looking in the mirror that was {not}strategically placed to spotlight your shower exit. I think it was six or eight weeks after I had had Henry. In place of my former yogi-six pack, I saw a bloated, excess-skin covered tummy and a bright red c-section scar. In all honesty, I simply looked fat. I was a 29 year old newlywed and I looked like heck. So I sat on the bathroom floor and sobbed. And sobbed. And contemplated smashing that stupid mirror.

Then I smacked myself in the face and got over my pity party. I no longer sob when I get out of the shower. But there is still a long, disappointed sigh.

One of my close friends told me she really couldn't tell the difference between the first and the third photo. But I can. And at the end of the day, I don't care what others think of me, I care what I think of me.

Because body image isn't about pitting yourself against someone else. There's no comparison. Its about how YOU feel about YOU, and how you see yourself.

I have come a long ways, and am feeling good about my progress. There's still skin hanging around my midsection that I have great disdain for. But I'm also getting my strength back, and I feel great about that. I thought the battle would be losing the baby weight and once that happened, magic! All would be well again. But that's not it at all. The battle is coming to terms with yourself, with what your body just accomplished, with the permanent changes and scars you gathered along the way, and loving yourself anyway.

My hyper-Type A personality isn't there yet. Like I said, I have work to do. And it isn't all physical.