This is going to be one of those blog posts I write with no idea of whether I'm going to post it or not, because it's a bit of a touchy subject for me and I'm not a hundred percent sure that I'm comfortable writing about it for myself, let alone posting it on an open forum, but if you never try you never know. God, I hate quoting Coldplay!!
At the moment I am VERY pregnant and there are times where I genuinely appreciate that through no fault or intention of myself and my partner, all of the mirrors in the house are high up, face level sort of mirrors, and so I have spent the last few weeks we have lived in the new house not having to look in a full length mirror at all. There are times when I think I should more often, or have taken more pictures showing the bump's growth, but processing the size and shape of my body has been something I have struggled with in this pregnancy, though not as much as I ever thought I might have.
Over the past decade, well, just a bit more than a decade, my size has crept up from starting uni around a size 6 to 8, to pre-pregnancy being a size 14 to 16. I realise that that is a natural thing with "getting older", a bit of COVID thrown in for good measure because I was not as active during that, and a myriad of things in between which have contributed, including my love of sweets. Mostly, I haven't minded too much, other than carting around clothes that I still love and occasionally try and convince myself I will one day get back into (I won't) and I can't bare to part with. Thankfully before the house move, partly due to the realities of moving two houses into one, and being pregnant and Vinted being relatively easy to use, I started getting rid of a bit of the clothing clutter in my life, sending some things to the charity shop and selling others, but generally trying to come to a more ordered and sensible wardrobe. It's still a process and likely will be another significant process when I see what fits my no longer pregnant body, but that's another matter.
I had to think about what size clothing I wear this morning (the morning of when I'm writing this as opposed to the morning of when I'm posting it) and the question popped into my head, likely because I saw myself in a full length mirror whilst I was at the hospital for a growth scan and as it's been a few weeks it was a bit of a confronting moment, do you love your body? Particularly, do you love your body right now?
(Before anyone panics, because I was 'overweight' in terms of BMI at the beginning of the pregnancy, I'm having growth scans as a precaution, not because of anything nefarious or concerning. The midwife who booked them described it as 'ladies who have a bit of extra padding like us', I loved her, they can't get an accurate measurement from measuring your belly, so growth scans are done to make sure that baby is gaining weight like they should, and to some extent, not getting too big!)
So, do I love my body right now? Yes, absolutely, but also no, not really. Were I this size and shape at any other time in my life than growing a baby, well, firstly I would be quite concerned, because it's a strange shape for me, but also I don't think I would be particularly comfortable with it; I'm not particularly comfortable now as it happens!! My muscles ache, I waddle when I try to walk and the bottom of my belly hurts, which I think is partly because little man has "dropped" and I'm "carrying low" whatever that means... (Don't worry, I know what it means, I just don't particularly engage with the language.) The strange this is that I'm pretty much exactly the same weight as I was before I was pregnant, despite the fact I'm toting around an extra organ (placenta), amniotic fluid, extra blood, an increased in size uterus, bigger breasts and a whole baby who is not small!! I've mentioned before that parts of this pregnancy have been difficult, and a lot of it has been to do with nausea and vomiting, which has effectively meant that even though I was told not to and I tried not to, I've lost weight by being pregnant. Thankfully, the consultants keep assuring me that it's not a problem and the baby is still healthy and happy. Even though I know that to be true, I still struggle with the size that my body is, partly because of the aches, partly because of the things I can't do being this size and partly because every time I try to get into the spare room in the house and I have to think about how to get my bump past the boxes to get in there and do some sorting. I feel significantly larger than I actually am and that's something I really struggle with.
But, and when I forget this my partner does a beautiful job of reminding me, this is temporary, whilst I'm growing our family. This is temporary, because my body is currently putting together and keeping safe our son. All the stretch marks and flattening of my belly button - no idea why this one freaks me out the way it does - are just evidence - along with the bump of course - that he's there and he's growing. Although it's frustrating that the maternity jeans I bought at the beginning of my pregnancy are supremely uncomfortable now - the way that the bump has dropped mean that they're too tight around the bottom of the bump which is already uncomfortable - and I've had to order a few pairs of leggings from Amazon just so I have something "decent" to wear, as opposed to the indent PJ shorts that were the only thing that fit me for a spell, I can't help but love the function of my body in the way that it's changing my life at the moment. I know there are other ways to build a family, but even when it hurts because the way he's stretching makes me feel like I'm going to pop, or him kicking my ribs makes me lose my breath from shock rather than awe, this little person is going to be a part of me and a part of my partner and he's been there with me for months.
I asked someone to get a photo of myself and my partner at the Women's World Cup Final, because I want to be able to tell the little guy that he was there when we won. He had the worst seat in the house because he couldn't see anything, but he was there, and when I was screaming for Ellie Kildunne he was kicking like crazy. (I really do hope he liked rugby.) He was with us when we went to see Bruce Springsteen, but from all of the estimates I don't think he could hear then, but he could when we went to see Imagine Dragons and when we went to see The Summer Set. He and I missed Feeder, because I couldn't stand up for long enough and there were no accessibility tickets available, but there is so much that he has been there through, he just didn't know it yet, and that's because he's in there, and that makes me love this body and this journey, because even though I know we'll spend the rest of his life getting to know him and getting to love him, it does feel like we do that already.
It's hard, in a way, because part of my self image, even when I was getting bigger, was still that idea of younger me when I was a skinny teenager, before my hips filled out and before I had particularly had noticeable breasts, so it can feel alarming and confronting, but in a world where a lot of people and a lot of businesses are accused of being fat phobic I should point out that being small wasn't easy and it was something I was bullied for, and it was something that people often felt the need to comment on in really unhelpful ways, and it caused a large amount of physical effects that impacted my health as well.
I know this is a common area of struggle for people in pregnancy and postpartum, and given that your belly button can be distorted, your stretch marks are unlikely to go anywhere really, your belly can be pudgier or saggy, your boobs are affected even if you don't breastfeed, and if you do breastfeed then your body reacts differently to that in order to have fat stores for your milk. It's not an easy transition to go through at all, and there are times when it feels awful, and there are times when it feels joyous and there are times when it doesn't feel particularly positive or negative.
So do I love my body? Yes. And a bit no.
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