If there’s one thing I’ve learned about being a mom, it means having to expose myself. A lot.
During labor. During delivery. After delivery. In the hospital. At home.
I’ll be honest — none of it is attractive. Not in the least.
I expected to be exposed. Especially since I knew I wanted to watch myself push [sidenote: I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned that part of labor?? Hmm.. may have to revisit…].
And the only word I have for postpartum is… BOOBS. Boobs, boobs, boobs. [thanks, google & other search engines — now you’ll find my blog via “Boobs”! Ha!]
Being topless for most of your days just after having a baby is hard, y’all. Almost as hard as labor [how quickly I’ve forgotten, huh!?]. But I really had no choice but to be seen that way. I was so busy trying to provide food to keep my baby alive that I didn’t even think about the fact that my husband and family members were watching my, very fragile, postpartum body, nearly in the nude.
And even 9-months later, it completely devastates me.
My insecurities, though mostly superficial, are real —
I fear my husband will never look at me the same way; that I’ll always be a mom and “milk machine.”
I fear that my stretch marks, regardless of their story or the meaning that they hold, will never fade from memory or sight.
I fear that I won’t ever regain the part of myself that was able to successfully multitask; that this constant state of ‘baby brain’ will continue indefinitely.
And most of all, I fear that I’ll forget who I was [and who I still hope I am] before I became Mommy.
Don’t get me wrong. I love being a mom. But it’s not all that I am.
And I recognize that my insecurities are mine and mine alone. No one else is responsible for my feelings. Just me.
And it’s totally completely up to me to get over them. I know I will. I just need to give it more time.