We have all said it, we are all guilty of the same thing, we have all given our bodies a evil disapproving glance, we have grabbed the flesh that’s stretched to accommodate our growing baby, we have sobbed and wished our bodies back, we have all worked out in our heads from top too toe what we could alter, to what we feel is to ‘better ourselves’. 

Believe me, I’m currently carrying my third child. And I realised today how selfish and unkind I am to myself. I have pretty much been pregnant continuously since 2014! And I found myself looking in the mirror in complete disgust. 

I am coated in stretch marks from boob to calves. Like a natural stripe swimsuit. Just one that isn’t considered ‘sexy, flattering or fashionable’, boob one size bigger than the other again coated in stripes. My stomach is the size of a whale to the point I’m being asked daily am I really going to last another 5 weeks? Or ‘Jesus, you are huge’. Why do people think this is a compliment to a pregnant woman? 

We feel huge, so the constant reminder from a cashier at the shops or a stranger in the que isn’t needed. 

My thighs resemble the worst road in Britain with the most pot holes you could imagine. And don’t get me started on what use to be my pride and joy, a plump pert bottom! Which is now more like a disappointing squashed, flat doughnut at the back of the packet. My hair is greasy 24/7 even straight after a wash. And my skin is dryer than a desert. 

But who on earth am I to be so negative about myself, We never hear ourselves check off the positives that our bodies have done, we never cherish or celebrate that our body has safely and successfully gave life to our children. 

Our boobs maybe one size bigger than the other, or sit a little different than before but we fed our babies, gave them all the nourishment they needed to survive. 

Our skin is coated in stretch marks which we never had before, and always dreaded getting. But our body grew in sync with our babies, allowing them space to develop, our bodies catered their growing needs. And every kick we felt, May that be a reminder of how strong our babies are from the power of our body providing that. 

Our organs are squished, our muscles are separated and we have our own special individual pattern on our body. We gave life, we provide food and comfort to the tiny humans we produced. 

Try and fall in love with your body again, it isn’t the body we are use to. But it’s the new you, who’s pieces have been put back together perfect but differently. We are now proud owners of a body who produced and successfully gave life. 

Try and beat that! 


Published by Mothering Silence

A late twenty-something mother of two boys and a profoundly deaf diva of almighty sass. In between splitting spontaneous sibling wars, curiatimg pillow forts and channeling inner superheroes. Mothering Silence documents a brutally honest truth of the trials and tribulations of motherhood. (The toughest hood.) Here you'll find the weekly ramblings of the rollercoaster life of my journey in motherhood. *Please note my style of writing is tongue in cheek.

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