But did it ever occur to anyone that maybe moms don’t need reminding that their postpartum bodies are totally normal? That it’s not an act of bravery to go out in public after having a child?
I remember seeing all those headlines about Kate Middleton and all I could think was that she was probably completely bewildered by the commentary around her body. I imagine she didn’t pick out that dress thinking, “Hmm, how can I make a bold statement about the reality of postpartum bodies?” She more likely thought, “Hmm, well this one looks comfy and roomy and maybe those polka dots will hide a milk stain.”
I had four back-to-back pregnancies and I didn’t know that much about nutrition and fitness like I do now. I had some complications with my last one and I gained a little more weight than I would have liked, but honestly, is that the end of the world? That I produced four healthy kids and like a large majority of moms, put on some pudge in the process? And don’t even get me started on the stretch marks. I couldn’t care less about my stretch marks. I know very few mothers in real life who don’t have them and we certainly don’t go around complimenting each other on our “bravery” for their existence.
I remember seeing my own mom get ready as a child and being fascinated by her stomach, the way it curved almost like a smile, the skin so much more tender and white than the rest of her. I thought she was beautiful. I never looked at her and thought, “Wow, she is so brave.”
I just thought that was the way she looked.
Image source: Chaunie Brusie
Which is exactly how simple it needs to be when it comes to postpartum bodies. We don’t need to laud mothers for showing their stomachs after having babies because by doing so, we imply that there’s something abnormal about how those stomachs look after having babies. If we constantly applaud women for “bravely” showing their stretch marks and flabby skin and still-lingering pooches, what we are really doing isreinforcing the message that stomachs should be immediately flawless and if they are not, then they should be hidden away in the darkest recesses of our stretchiest sweatpants.
So can we stop the madness already?
Consider this: what if a mom wanted to post a picture of herself with her brand-new baby and not have people scrutinize her stomach and fawn over her for showing what a “real” mom looks like? What if it didn’t even cross her mind that anyone would even notice her stomach because SHE JUST GAVE FREAKING BIRTH.
What if we stopped pouncing on any bulge, wrinkle, stretch mark, C-section scar, skin flap, or fat roll on moms like a pack of greedy postpartum police? What if her body wasn’t sending a message to other moms or declaring its own bravery or doing anything other than existing as it should be and serving a very physical function of growing, shaping, changing, and healing through the process of housing human beings?
Because no matter how we package it, applauding moms who display less-than-picture-perfect bodies after giving birth, is yet another way of judging women by their appearance. We are reinforcing the message that there is one ideal body shape for women. That our largest value lies in our physical appearance and that the majority of us are just quivering in fear in the darkness, afraid that the world will never accept the grotesque monsters we have become.
I’m not saying that it’s not a worthwhile endeavor to see more images of how different our bodies can look like after birth in the public eye. It’s definitely a movement I support because the more diverse pictures we see, the more we realize that there is a very wide range of ways that pregnancy and birth affects us as women.
Image source: Chaunie Brusie
But let’s also be honest: the majority of us already know what a “real” postpartum body looks like because we know plenty of real postpartum women. They’re our mothers, sisters, daughters, aunts, and friends. We don’t need a picture from a stranger to tell us what they should look like.
Because we already know the truth:
That there is no bravery needed to be beautiful as a mother.
