This post originally appeared as a Guest Blog Post on Motion Melissa .
Major, unplanned abdominal surgery was not how I envisioned meeting my daughter.
I did expect that my body would look and feel different after growing, nourishing and caring for a new life. I expected my clothes would fit differently, and that there would be no “bouncing back” because my body would be fundamentally and irrevocably altered from the process of becoming a mother. But I wrongly assumed that after 12 weeks, maybe even after just six, I would be ready to resume teaching group fitness full time, and that I would feel like my strong and capable self.
My Unplanned C-Section meant severe damage to my Transverse Abdominals and the nerve endings that give feeling and function to that region of my abdomen, and blooming scar tissue inhibited mobility. I was numb and lifeless - there was no way I was doing a plank, let alone leading classes. Instead of celebrating my “Mom Bod” for all that it could do and all that it was, I found myself grieving the person I had once been, and fixating on feelings of inadequacy.
But there are tools we can draw upon to cultivate some peace with our bodies:
Tune out the noise: ever notice when the media you consume activates your inner critic? Have those friends in your circle who seem to bring out the worst, most jealous and insecure parts of yourself? Notice when you get stuck in a cycle of comparison. Mute, unfollow, and if need be, block. Don’t give your attention, time, or hard-earned dollars to those selling you the message that something is wrong with you.
Instead, curate your community of support: follow and connect with those who make you feel good exactly as you are. Find like-minded Mom Squads (like Motion Mamas!) that foster support and empowerment through connection, not competition.
Tune in to your own, most essential self-keeping needs: as new moms we can easily get wrapped up in tracking our baby’s feedings, diaper output, and bathtime, but forego our own most basic needs. Check in. Have you eaten recently? Do you need to use the bathroom? When was the last time you washed your hair? Bottle washing can wait, so can that load of laundry; your self-care can’t.
Really get to understand and celebrate the magnitude of what your body has done: did you know we have three layers of muscle that comprises our pelvic floor, and that no matter your birth, they stretch and grow in amazing ways to accommodate your growing baby?! See a Pelvic Floor Physical Therapist, no matter how your baby is born. At the guidance of my Physical Therapist, I used scar tissue massage and gentle, functional movement to restore feeling, mobility, and strength to my damaged abdomen. Get to know your body all over again, with curiosity and grace. You’ll learn so much about your body, and likely be in awe of just how amazing you are.
Take it slow: give yourself permission to ease back into your regular routine, instead of beating yourself up for not performing at your pre-pregnancy level. Find workouts that give you a sense of spaciousness.
And celebrate all that your Mom Bod does with ease and love: while a workout may no longer entail box jumps and sandbag circuits, I lift all 20 pounds of my baby over and over and over again in the course of our day, to her glee and delight - so much more rewarding than a dumbbell, huh?
Bask in the beauty of your baby: look at their perfect round belly, their beefy forearms, and impossibly rolly thighs. Observe the tender adoration you feel for them - notice the lack of shame, revulsion, and judgment, notice how abhorrent it would be to project that body shame onto your child, yet observe how you cast it on yourself so easily.
Remember that peace is a process, and a practice, not a fixed destination.
In pregnancy I came to love my ever-expanding belly, because I loved the baby growing safe and sound inside. And eight months after my daughter’s birth my belly is big and soft and doesn’t at all fit the mold of what a woman’s shape “should be” to be considered beautiful or perceived as strong. All of this reconciliation of my expectations with my lived reality, and confronting and unpacking the narratives we face about what and how we “should” be as new moms, is enough to rob anyone of their peace. But as I gaze at my own daughter in awe and wonder, I’m rediscovering a new and whole kind of peace - the impossible perfection of my love for her - enough to accept and embrace any imperfection.
