As mothers we often judge ourselves harshly. There is barely a moment to hug and kiss your child, in between PB&J sandwiches, food wars and laundry. I am not entirely sure where in all of his I am supposed to fit in a gym session.
So sitting at a birthday party, feeling sorry for my size 40 ass (12 in US size!), I scoff down all the delicious cakes and brownies on offer. I even throw in a strawberry for good healthy measure. I am thoroughly enjoying myself when it begins…..
“Ah, I really think I should join the gym”
“Have you heard about that new fitness program on offer?”
“Yes I am TOTALLY keen to join” she says, subtly dropping the brownie on to the floor for the dog to eat up.
“I am so unhappy with my weight…”
“I feel so fat…”
“Did you see so and so lost so much weight, bitch!”
And so the conversations go on for the contingent of the birthday party.
I now feel bad for scoffing down all the wonders on my plate and possibly need a crash course on how to stop blushing.
As if I had never seen sugar before and also wish I had taken up the offer to visit Essex Body Care – surely I would be feeling far more relaxed now! And the worst of it is, these are mostly the size 36 mothers right down to the 32’s. I mean really, as if a mother in a size 32 needs to go to gym!
My son recently had a swimming event which the school called a water safety day. It required the mothers to jump in the pool with their 4 year olds, and teach them how to get back to the wall should they fall in. The thinnest of mothers were in swimming items like wetsuits and t-shirts in the pool – in Summer! And they were equally embarrassed about their size as any of the other mothers were.
So much so, that I did not even get into the pool and in fact went as a spectator.
But who is this supreme court waiting for all mothers to show their stuff, so that they can pass judgement? it is us, fellow mothers that are unhappy with what being pregnant and breastfeeding has done to us.
Yes before I fell pregnant I was a size 36, and I didn’t weigh all that much. Two kids later I tipped the scales at 102 kgs and a size 44 waistline. And the saddest part of all, is that my family suffered. Suffered because I lacked confidence, felt insecure and thought any woman thinner than me had to be a total bitch – come on ladies you know we judge this way!
But who was watching? Which mother has time to judge another mother’s size, when they are running around kids, a household and a job. Perhaps the little twenty-somethings that have never had kids?
I am a twenty something, in fact I am 28 with saggy tits, stretch marks and one hell of a belly apron. And I feel old and fat next to any girl my age with perky breasts and a flat belly – but she hasn’t had kids, and soon enough she will feel just like we all do. Judged, and unattractive.
But ladies, we need to pull ourselves towards ourselves – these stretch marks, saggy boobs and apron stomachs are the result of a war that we fought so tremendously.
Those black rings under your eyes are a trophy, because you were able to not only make a baby, but carry it to full term. I have had a miscarriage, and you feel like you are to blame,
A dear friend of mine is 27 and cannot have children, has had one failed IVF and has not a cent more to try again. Another sweet friend is 28 and has gone against all her beliefs and is now seeing a homeopath in sheer desperation to fall pregnant. And if we had to say to them that all it would take to fall pregnant and carry a healthy baby to term would be a flabby belly, saggy boobs and stretch marks – what do you think they’ll say?
So come on moms, it really is time we appreciate our war wounds and scars and cherish the miracles that we have been able to have. I may be big, uncomfortable in my size and insecure – but I have 2 healthy children, a husband and a job. Who honestly gives a damn about the size of my pants other than me? Its not like it was a question on my job application!