I’ll Take Hormones For 500 Alex
I haven’t been stricken with the midnight cravings or the trouble sleeping that most women at this point in pregnancy complain of. I also haven’t had to deal with stretch marks or hormone imbalances… until yesterday.
A dark cloud fell over my well being yesterday. I woke up and was fine, it was hotter than hell but all in all I was ok for being 38w4d. I had the day off due to the Holiday, but Mr. M was working so I’d be flying solo. I called a few friends to chat, one was heading to the cabin, the other working – I really didn’t want to hang out anyway as I was feeling very ‘home body-ish’.
I’m watching the numerous birth TV shows I have on the DVR with my laptop googling pregnancy related things. I come across this website: http://www.theshapeofamother.com/ and started spanning through the various entries.
Now don’t get me wrong here – because I’m walking a fine line – I know it.
I think what they’re trying to do on that website is awesome. Exposing the truth of what happens to women’s bodies after birth/pregnancy is very important. As is embracing what we have and striving for it to be a mark of pride rather than shame. I’m all for this stuff – GO WOMEN RAH RAH! YAY!
As I’m paging through these images I’m thinking to myself that I am extremely lucky to have not encountered a single stretch mark in my journey through pregnancy. I’m also thinking that hey, not only is my stomach not wracked with streaky red lines but it’s also quite lovely. I should take a picture – yes, that is what I shall do!
So I trod up the stairs, lumbering with every painful step to take a shower. Because naturally, one would like to have a clean face and hair if preparing to take awe inspiring, mother earth pictures of her deliciously rotund belly.
I’m walking past our wall of closets to slather on some of my ‘stretch-mark lotion’ and I stop mid slather. I gaze into the mirrors on my closet doors reflecting a woman I don’t even recognize anymore. I get up closer and closer – until what do my eyes spy… a stretch mark. Light in color, for now, but definitely on its way into the classification of ‘angry and red’ any day now. By this time I’m nearly pressing my face into the mirror trying to get the right light angle and turning my belly the right way to see just how bad the damage is.
And this, my dear readers, is where you should learn from me. You should walk away, walk straight away from that mirror, write it off as a smear on the mirror, or bad lighting… WHATEVER.YOU.HAVE.TO.DO… just walk away. I pinched that skin together thinking, well if it’s really a stretch mark, I’ll need to see what it’ll look like when my belly goes back to ‘normal’.
I began sobbing immediately. Pinching and pushing my skin from side to side, adjusting the lighting, laying on my side, etc. It wasn’t until I started eyeing the camera I had brought up to take those “earth mother” shots as a possible clarification of just how bad it is that I finally stopped myself and walked downstairs melting into a heaping pile of sobbing pregnant woman.
I was inconsolable for the rest of the day. Let me be clear here, I mean… I really SOBBED for the.rest.of.the.day. Like from 12:00pm to 5:30, only to begin again after dinner from 9:00 until I fell asleep.
My body – she is destroyed. I will never be able to look or feel the same way ever again. I have always been someone of huge self esteem and never had much of a self image problem. When the other girls were bulimic and anorexic in high school and college – I shrugged my shoulders and though I’m hot and so are they, what is their problem?!?
So … could be hormones, could be reality, could be I’m ready to have this baby right fricken now. I’m continuing to grieve the loss of my youth and the loss of what I thought was a pretty decent twenty-seven year old body.