Having a postpartum body is weird, even 8 months later. And it’s even harder to explain. Towards the end of pregnancy, when my belly was huge, and my breasts were engorged, and I had crazy pressure on my hips, I started to feel like my body wasn’t even mine anymore. I had all these aches and pains, but they weren’t my aches – there was some foreign stressor causing my bones to spread apart, stretching ligaments 3 million miles away from their typical points of attachment, making me uncomfortable as I tried to sit upright, or lay on my back, or stand for longer than 2 minutes. That stressor of course being pregnancy, I knew at least that the end of weird body stuff was near. I knew the baby would come out and everything would go back to normal. Holy hell was I wrong.
(Am I alone here, or does motherhood seem to dole out repeat lesson after lesson stating that every prior concept of normal no longer exists? It’s like every time I hit on a “routine” and make plans around it, everything changes again. I think God wants me to stop being so controlling, but dammit I need some order around here. I digress.)
I’m 8 months postpartum, and I still have weird pregnancy-level body stuff happening. The most distressing is that I’m not skinny. What the hell?? The baby is out of my bod, but my gut still looks baby bump-esque. I’m doing the breastfeeding thing (though it’s not baby-to-boob, it’s pump phalange-to-boob – but the juices are flowing!), isn’t that some magical weight loss cure?? I am not losing weight breastfeeding. If anything, I’m more blob-like because I am constantly sitting to squeeze nourishment from my nipples. I want to smack the pretty, happy, skinny mommies on Pinterest who tote the beauty of breastfeeding and swear by it’s powerful calorie-burning abilities. STFU, you who have lost all of your baby weight. It’s not because you’re an amazing breastfeeder, it’s your genetics. Yay you. (I mean it, yay you. Just having a pity party with my fupa.)
Not only am I not skinny, but I STILL feel like my body is not my own. I still feel that weird foreign stressor making everything from balance to blackheads more difficult. And I feel like a crazy person because I know there isn’t anything foreign currently in my bod!! Am I even in my body? I don’t know! I’m in a body that I don’t recognize that sometimes feels to me like someone else’s. I might be certifiably crazy, but on occasion, I get the sneaking suspicion that I’m borrowing someone else’s body. I told you this was hard to describe.
Excuse me breasts, the nipples are supposed to point up (or at least both in the same direction). Excuse me bladder, you’re supposed to give me some warning signs before you start leaking hot urine all stingingly down my legs into a sad little puddle on my bath mat, giving me one more thing to do today. Excuse me under eyes, you can go ahead and release that fluid you accumulated in pregnancy ANY TIME NOW. I’ll wait. Excuse me feet, you wear an 8 not a 9.5 – please go back to normal so I don’t have to buy an entirely new wardrobe of shoes. Excuse me stretch mark-lined, flappy-skinned tummy, I love you for growing my boy, but omg please shrink and taut-ify ASAP. Excuse me brain, please stop being so apathetic about my appearance!
WHAT IS HAPPENING?? I was supposed to pop the kid out and then everything was supposed to go back to normal. I can’t even take a selfie without some not-me body part acting out of turn.
Look at that adorable mom and baby – wait, what’s that blobby thing at the bottom of the picture? Oh that’s her postpartum baby belly, complete with stretchmarks. It somehow escaped from its t-shirt to grin for the camera. Awesome.
I am not skinny, and I have no motivation guys. Suggestions welcome.