My body, then and now
It’s been hard but it’s getting better. Looking at and living in my body everyday was hard. My body, that I've always loved, was a constant reminder that I was no longer pregnant. A reminder that our girls were and are not here. It was this awful and annoying piece that I couldn’t get away from. For the first six weeks I was recovering from my c-section but I wasn’t distracted by feeding or caring for my babies. I was mourning them.
When you have a c-section you aren’t supposed to lift anything heavier than your baby. You’re not supposed to move much and shouldn’t use any of whatever’s left of your stomach muscles. Thankfully, I had a revolving door of family and friends to distract me from the absence of Montana and Parker. Every time I tried to do something, I was yelled at and told to rest. They did allow me to go to the bathroom, at least. Looking back at this now, I actually think I should have pushed back slightly and stayed a bit more mobile as I think my lack of movement ultimately slowed down my healing process.
The last two weeks before I was cleared to do things, every time I would get up, I felt more sore than if I was walking around doing things. I think my body was healing with me laying down vs. moving like you would after having a c-section and taking care of your newborn(s).
As of today, I am working on my body in physical therapy and doing daily massage work on my scar. The massage work helps to break up the scar tissue and bring back my fascia elasticity. Before I was able to work on my body and without the distraction of caring for my babies, I just stared at my stomach and was in tune with every step of the recovery process. I loved being pregnant. Even after having Via I was fine with my body in its healing process because I had this perfect little human to take care of. I cared less about my weight as I knew it was all part of the magic I just created.
This time, I didn’t have my perfect angels with me. In fact they were never going to be with me again. So it was devastating and even embarrassing at times to be in public and try to put on clothes. I felt so not myself. Everyone kept saying, “but you do have a reason for your body to look and feel like it does,” but my reasons weren’t here and this body was a constant reminder of that. This was an emotional struggle for me especially those first six weeks before I was cleared to workout. I just felt helpless, fat, and like my body wasn’t mine. These were new feelings for me. I am a confident person and have always been, even when my body type has fluctuated.
Once I was able to start exercising, I was still feeling frustrated with my body and it’s lack of strength vs. what I was used to be pre baby. I knew this was silly as I could rationally understand what my body just went through, I just didn’t want to accept it. Accepting it meant that I was accepting the new reality we were living in where I wasn’t pregnant (I should have still been pregnant at least until April) and I didn’t have my baby girls.
I also didn’t remember ever being so focused or concerned with my body after having Via as I was obsessed with her and being a first time mom. I think that’s normal, that you aren’t supposed to be thinking about yourself when you have a brand new baby, but this time I was the opposite and fully consumed with myself and how I looked/felt.
Now, seven months later I am finally feeling better about my post baby body. It’s still not 100% but I am able to wear the majority of my clothes and feel comfortable in my skin. We live in a society where instant gratification is the norm and when it doesn’t happen we get mad or frustrated. I know that bodily changes have never been instant but through this traumatic event, I needed my body back. I fought hard for it and I’m proud to say I completed the Murph workout during Memorial Day and I’m using my body and love of teaching as a Pure Barre fitness instructor again.
Getting my body back allowed me to feel good again. It’s not that I wanted to forget my girls and move on, but I needed something for me. I wanted to grieve and feel the feelings on my terms rather than being forced into it.
If you know someone who is going through this or something similar and they happen to comment on their own body, just hug them and say, “You look great.” We may not believe you but don’t feel like you have to find the “right” thing to say. It doesn’t exist.
