The Post Baby Bod

A few weeks ago, I got a message from a sweet classmate who I hadn’t talked to for awhile. We had a brief exchange, in which I learned that she’d just been blessed with another addition to her family. But then she wrote something that caught me totally off guard: 

“You look fabulous!” she said, “and it amazes me that you’ve had three kids! I’ve been meaning to ask you, what is the best way to get your pre-baby body back? Does it take awhile for the pooch to go back down to normal? You should totally write a post about post-pregnancy body tips!”

It made me so sad.

Sad because I was talking to one of the sweetest, most beautiful women I’ve ever met, inside and out. 

Sad because her baby was only three weeks old and she already felt the immense pressure to look like she hadn't had a baby, instead of being able to celebrate the incredible miracle of what she and her body had just accomplished. A miracle that so many women out there are desperate to experience, but can't.

Sad because although she thought I looked "fabulous," I’m the furthest from healthy I’ve ever been right now. How I look is not a result of anything I’ve deliberately done, healthy or otherwise. The shell of a body that she sees and thinks she wants is actually my body’s failure to thrive, as I continue to fight against a condition that plagues me with digestive problems and hormone imbalances and pain and stress that I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy.


None of it is her fault; it's simply a reflection of the culture we live in. Those who know nothing of my internal health look at my skin and bones and see “healthy,” because as a society we're completely myopic in assuming that minuscule means health. Our perception has been completely warped over the past few decades; we’ve fallen so far off the track of what “looks healthy” that we no longer know which way is up.

We believe that skinny is fabulous, regardless of the true picture of internal health or the often-damaging means required to achieve that skinny. We see celebrities emerging with perfectly unhealthy post-baby bods after months in hiding with dieting and tummy tucks and hips bound back to the width of a ten-year-old girl, and that post-baby bod gets slapped on the cover of a magazine and we celebrate it. (Or if it’s not perfect the headlines criticize it). Never mind that behind that “perfect” body, her mental health is likely plummeting and directly impacting her baby’s health. Never mind that her body could be providing some of the most incredible naturally occurring nutrition in the world for her baby if there weren’t so much pressure to show up two months post-partum in a slinky ballgown or bikini. No, we don’t care about that part—we just want to buy the magazine and find out how she got her flat abs back.

We are so good at ignoring the total concept of health in lieu of image, aren't we? We systematically disregard equally important health markers, like the mental and emotional and spiritual puzzle pieces which impact us just as much as physical health. We walk around with the chip of assumption on our shoulder (myself included), not knowing that the beautiful mom over there in the perfect outfit is battling depression, not realizing that the sculpted husband next to her is emotionally controlling, not guessing in a million years that the tall, fit-looking woman in the grocery store has a life-long eating disorder, not having the wherewithal to understand that the slightly stout but average-framed person walking their dog down the sidewalk (who we just judged in our head) is actually the most physically, emotionally, and spiritually healthy person we’ve seen all day.

No, instead we've got it so backwards that mental health is still the last stone unturned and people in perfect physical condition become convinced that they need to drop just five pounds or shrink just one size.

We live in a society where after the miracle of childbirth--after nine months of complete transformation and the accomplishment of something purely Herculean--a woman who's just given birth somehow believes something is wrong when it takes more than three weeks for her body to carefully and deliberately return to the state of not carrying a child within...even as it naturally continues to transform and take on the incredible job of carrying and sustaining and nourishing that same baby on the outside.

It's gotten to the point where we see it and don't even realize what's happening. The dominant tone in our mommy culture is continually centered around appearance:

“I wish I looked that good six months after!”

“Shut up, you did not just have a baby.”

“Just got my new belly wrap kit in the mail! Gonna get my body back!” 

“Buh-bye baby thighs! #100squats”

“Just spent 10 hours on the treadmill!!! #babywearing #fitmom”

Okay so I made up the last one. But seriously, how much more psycho can we get?

And now it’s time to really come clean: what made me saddest about the message from my friend is that I’ve done more than my fair share to perpetuate the crazy. Even as my clothes get bigger and begin to hang off of me, I’ve been selfish and prideful enough to hold up the lie that image matters. I hide the pictures from the past in which I’ve been truly healthy (but thought I looked “porky”), and strategically crop or post only the “good” ones I approve of. I know this is the most slender (read: scrawny and sickly) I’ve ever been in over 15 years, but I secretly allow myself to consume the lie and occasionally even feel flattered when people tell me I look “great.”

Thankfully, my friend’s message reminded me of the lies we fight every day, and I think it’s time I do my little part to try and reverse the trend.

So here I am writing the post that my sweet friend requested. Not necessarily in the way she wanted, but in the way I think it needs to be answered.

And as I write this, I’m not just writing it to you—I’m writing it to me, too. Because I need just as big a dose of my own medicine as every other mom out there being fed poisonous lies about “healthy.” 

We don't need to reclaim our bodies. We need to reclaim our commitment to healthy self-care. We need to change the expectation of what a real post-partum body looks like--just like the Duchess of Cambridge (what a shame that she didn't start a trend for the rest of the suffering mom celebrities). But ultimately we need to start with ourselves. We need to begin by re-calibrating our personal definition and practical application of what healthy means...and in doing so we just might sway the tide a little in the right direction.

So, what is really healthy?

• Healthy is self-confidence in being the unique person we were made to be.

• Healthy is choosing to treat our bodies well because they’re meant to be the vehicle through which we impact the world, not the focus of what we are in the world.

• Healthy is acknowledging that we are each on this earth for a very special, unique purpose that only we can fulfill—and if we don’t care for our bodies in a way that allows us to achieve that purpose, we are doing the world a disservice. 

• Healthy is equal parts body, mind, AND soul—understanding that mental and spiritual health must essentially be put in higher priority than physical health if we ever wish to evolve in our current off-balance society.

• Healthy is understanding that unchecked mental and emotional health issues directly impact how our bodies function and how we treat them. 

• Healthy is understanding that any extreme can be bad when it comes to how we treat our body: starving it or overeating, overworking it or not exercising at all, abuse through self-harm or substances, criticizing our appearance or adorning our bodies as veritable idols. The key is finding the balance in between so that none of these downfalls distracts us from our God-given mission here on Earth.

• Healthy is encouraging each other in the right direction and supporting each other in our {healthy} goals and pursuits for fitness and self-care, instead of viewing it as a contest or using cutting remarks like “must be nice!” or “show-off!” to demoralize each other, as my dear sister-friend Sara experienced recently. We as a community of women have a responsibility to build each other up, especially when the rest of the world works so hard to tear us down.

• And--as I've already alluded to--when it comes to that post-baby bod, healthy is validating the amazing feat that our body has accomplished. It's treating our body with respect, and being both gentle and patient with it as we push through wonky hormones and sleep deprivation to care for our families. It's reminding ourselves that our bodies are still changing and will continue to change for a good long time, and we need to let them do their job. It's allowing ourselves to embrace our body—however it appears—as a gift that enables and enhances our eternally important role as mom to our little miracles, not a shameful punishment that weighs us down. The post-baby mental state needs to be one in which we are focused on our emotional and mental health more than physical gripes, so that in caring for ourselves we can give the best version of ourselves to our children. And we need to remember--both for ourselves and the women we know--that post-partum depression and anxiety are more common than we realize, but they're also treatable conditions that need to be addressed, not hidden from each other.

As for my personal truth:

• Healthy was when I weighed at least 15 pounds more in college, but was the most physically healthy I’ve ever been in my adult life—both eating well and exercising on a regular basis.

At our school's Christmas
dinner with my future husband

• Healthy was when I let go of my concern about gaining more than the ‘recommended’ amount of weight during my third full-term pregnancy, (even though the doctors were not at all concerned), and I allowed myself to eat when I was hungry, which was all.the.time. It made sense when my doctor told me after routine glucose testing that my body “processes sugar exceptionally quickly,” and I needed to eat high-protein snacks or meals at least six times a day. Had I continued to obsess over my weight and limit my food intake, I could have seriously compromised my health and that of my unborn son by not taking in the amount of calories I needed to nourish him.

This is the last picture I have with my two oldest before
their little brother joined them the next day, which makes
it pretty meaningful. But I remember not wanting to share
it because I didn't like how I looked.

• Healthy was when I went out on a date with my husband for our anniversary just a few days after our son was born, and I knew when my husband told me I looked beautiful that he meant it. (Unhealthy was the amount of time I spent agonizing over what to wear and wishing I had better spanx to go underneath). Healthy is embracing that body of mine as perfectly normal. Healthy is sharing that picture now.

Headed out on our anniversary date
five days after the above picture was
taken.

• Healthy was when I didn’t cave to the pressure of the Army’s height and weight standards following the births of my children, and gave my body permission to slowly reach its new normal instead of pushing myself with dieting or excessive exercise before my shifting muscles and joints and ligaments were ready. Healthy was still making time for myself to do exercises that were helpful to my body at the time.

• Healthy is eating mainly healthy foods but not forcing myself to make excuses for, “work off,” or “deserve” the occasional sweet treat. I personally don’t believe in fad diets or cutting out foods for looks; I believe the best kind of diet is the one that you can eat every day for the rest of your life to sustain your body long-term. So I fully advocate eating all kinds of good, healthy, enjoyable food, especially since our bodies need it to function! I personally eat some sort of chocolate pretty much every day. When I had to stop eating dairy, I searched high and low for a kind of chocolate that still tasted good enough to satisfy my craving! When I went through my gluten-free phase, it was not because it sounded cool, it was because my doctor told me to. And as soon as it became apparent after a consult with my GI that cutting out gluten wasn’t making a difference in my health, I went back to eating it.

• Healthy is taking good care of myself while deliberately choosing not to criticize my body. Not around my friends, my family, or my children. But most importantly, not in my own internal dialogue.

• Healthy is making sure that my children know how beautiful and useful and important my body is to my mission on earth, and how important it is to take care of it the right way, so they can develop good, healthy perceptions of their own bodies. Especially my daughter. I already see the some of the girls in her kindergarten class preoccupied with image—it’s so sad.

• Healthy is this month of self-care that I am focusing on with two of my dear sister-friends. After two long years as an at-home mom, I’m prioritizing exercise so that I can strengthen my body for my vocation as a mom; a mom who can give horsey rides, keep up with my kids in their activities, and ensure that I am in the best health possible to sustain new life in the future if God wishes to bless us again. I’m also trying to build up good strength techniques for my job as a gymnastics coach so I don’t keep breaking my back!

• Healthy is continuing to pursue testing and answers and treatments for my medical issues even when I want to give up, so I can be physically available to my kids’ needs day in and day out.

• Healthy is acknowledging that I also have a problem with anxiety and I need to do something about it…and listening to those who love and know me best when they say that it’s okay to get help.

These are just a start—I know that embracing a fully healthy mindset will take time and practice. But thankfully, that’s why we have each other. Hopefully sharing my truth can allow you to acknowledge and accept and celebrate and share yours, and you can encourage me in mine, too.

When asked 'what do you want to be when
you grow up?' I never answered 'a set of
flat abs.' The desire to be a mother was
always there, and these lines and scars are
part of the roadmap that got me to the me
I had always hoped to be...not something
I should ever feel pressured to erase
out of misplaced shame.

So in closing, the short answer to my friend’s question is yes: it might take awhile for the “pooch” to go away…or it may never disappear completely. That’s okay. Be not ashamed. It’s a part of your body that has done something fantastic. So remember that your body is beautiful, incredible, and deserves lots of patience and acceptance and unconditional love as you adjust to the new you—just like that beautiful baby it amazingly bore for you.



What real, healthy achievements can you celebrate today?