Kendra Wilkinson recently caused quite a stir when she posted a picture to the internet of her baby bearing belly covered in stretch marks and wrinkled skin, with the caption “look what my babies did, they made me happy”
I never thought I could relate to a former playmate, millionaire, tv series mom of two… but in the moment I totally got it.
Right around middle school I began to really struggle with anorexia. I have always been fairly petite so I was about 14 before I hit the triple digits on the scale. And also about 14 when I began fighting like crazy to make it go away. I am 5’3” and my weight NATURALLY fluctuates between 110-114 lbs. However I would spend all of my energy avoiding food, I varied between extreme workout regimens, and hardly allowing myself any food during the day, the occasional burger in front of friends was met with several days of nothing but a bowl of oatmeal or a few crackers to curb the pain. I stayed around 105 and I WAS NEVER happy. I would look in the mirror and truly believe I was fat if my stomach was anything other than perfectly flat. I remember praising myself when I could feel how easily the seat belt fit over my lap, hardly using any tension.
I outgrew my anorexic habits after high school but the desire for the “perfect” body always remained. I would still go weeks wearing sweatshirts or not leaving my house if I felt bloated and while I ate much healthier I was never truly happy with my body.
January of 2013 I was in the best shape of my life. I had just gotten off deployment and anyone who had ever deployed knows the only thing there is to do is workout, so that is what I did. There was no physical challenge I couldn't conquer and I while I still chose baggy clothes, I was proud of my physical accomplishments. Then I got pregnant.
I remember feeling so stressed that my body was going to change and there was NOTHING I could do to stop it. (please don't get me wrong I loveeeeedddd my baby) But the idea of not being allowed to diet, knowing for a fact I was going to lose my abs, and I could very possibly never fit in those skinny jeans again terrified me. Like truly kept me up at night.
The months past and my belly grew and something amazing happened, Instead of feeling horrible that my skinny jeans were replaced with my husband's largest string tie sweats (because elastic was uncomfortable) I was grateful that my baby was happy and healthy and growing. And after he was born and the stretch marks were left behind, I would look at them and see where he kept his elbow as I grew him, or where my second baby kept her feet.
The time that I spent pregnant changed the way I view my body all together. I am no longer obsessed with being skinny, and I do not think its cute if the seat belt has no tension. I am aware that my body will never be what it was, because it made two beautiful little babies who are happy and healthy. I still try to stay physically fit but it no longer has to do with how my butt looks in my jeans, instead it is driven by the desire to maintain the energy needed to chase my giggling babies as they run free in the sand.
Maybe in time my stretch marks will fade, but a piece of me hopes they never do. Those lines are a sign of life. The bit of extra skin is a cradle that held my babies when my arms couldn't. It is proof that they are mine, a reminder of a time I will never have back.
While everyone wants to put their best face forward, mine is no longer measured by how my body looks in a bikini, but by how happy my children are as I climb into the pool to splash with them. There are no more days of hiding out because I am bloated, no more dieting because I ate a burger last week. I am just me, a woman, a wife and a mom. My body will never be perfect because I do not live in a computer, I am me, and my body shows signs of the beautiful life I get to live.
“Look what my babies did, They made me happy”
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