Wow. I have them on my butt? Sigh. Could it be worse, my boobs are deflated and I have stretch marks there, TOO? This was what ran through my head six months after my daughter was born. It wasn’t until then I had lost enough of my post-baby weight to notice. Thighs, butt, stomach, breasts. I had stretch marks everywhere and they were not forgiving. I weighed 112 pounds prior to my pregnancy and had gained a whopping 80 pounds by the end of my pregnancy. All the growing and expanding had resulted in my tummy looking like Freddy Krueger had gotten to me. My stomach had previously been toned, flat … maybe even sexy. Now I had loose skin and cellulite. I had back fat on top of my shoulder blades (I didn’t even know this was possible). My nipples didn’t look like they did before pregnancy (and nursing), and I swear I couldn’t recognize my vagina for a while. No one tells you any of this. Not even my closest girlfriends with kids told me this during my pregnancy. I like to think they didn’t want to scare me, but it would have been nice to expect … or maybe they didn’t want me to think they were disgusting.
My daughter will be five next month. I’ve come to realize that the stretch marks I still have now are like battle wounds. My breasts that are prone to gravitational pull will be even more prone to falling as the years go on, so I should enjoy them while they still bounce. Feeling my stomach skin toss up and down in the air as if trying to fully disconnect from my body is now a part of my daily run. Having phantom pains in my grundell during my period (from the stitches) is a part of the monthly ritual.
I swear though, that little face and giggle of hers … I can’t wait to do it again.
Who needs the thrill of a sky dive when you’ve had a blood transfusion post delivery?