Recently, while running errands, I unexpectedly bumped into a friend, Sarah, whom I hadn’t seen in ages. It was refreshing to engage in adult conversation, even if just for a moment. As we caught up, I turned to pick up something my child had dropped, and when I turned back, I noticed it happening.
The Stomach Stare
Having had six children, I’ve become quite accustomed to this phenomenon. My body has undergone significant changes, not to mention that my metabolism seems to have taken a vacation. I’m aware of how I look, and I can’t deny that my appearance invites scrutiny. I don’t hold it against anyone; after all, with a large family and a toddler in tow, people are naturally curious. They’re likely trying to determine whether my belly is simply the result of motherhood or if there’s another little one on the way.
This particular friend, Sarah, is genuinely kind and observant. She hadn’t seen me in a while and was likely trying to assess my situation without directly asking, which I completely understand. I’ve conducted my share of Sneaky Stomach Stares too.
But still, when I catch the gaze, it hits home. It’s a reminder that, in this moment, I may resemble a pregnant woman. My instinct is to suck in my stomach—though honestly, it doesn’t go in much at all. My abs have long surrendered, waving the white flag. There’s a familiar twinge of embarrassment, a sense of apologizing to my body for the confusion it causes. I realize it’s likely that I’ll always have friends glancing at my stomach, questioning if I’m still in the baby-making phase.
I have a complicated relationship with my stomach. On one hand, it’s large, jiggly, and often a challenge to fit into clothes. I feel the weight of those Stomach Stares not just from friends but also from strangers, especially at places like church or restaurants where my family draws attention. People often count my children, then their eyes land on my belly, assessing whether our family is complete or if we’re still planning for more.
On the flip side, my stomach is truly remarkable. It has been through so much, including a surgical procedure while I was awake, during which two little humans were brought into the world. This fact continues to amaze me. This belly has nurtured and supported six incredible lives. It deserves recognition—medals, accolades, and perhaps even a plaque on the wall. My round, jiggly stomach is a badge of honor, reminding me daily of the six beautiful individuals I have brought into existence, who are growing into thoughtful, compassionate humans. It has done a tremendous job, and it deserves my gratitude.
So, I allow my belly to relax a bit, take a deep breath, and thank it for being the first home for my babies, the place where they felt warmth and love. I forgive it for spilling over my jeans, for making shoe-tying a bit tricky, and for confusing those who may wonder.
And I promise it yoga pants, always and forever.
For more insights into home insemination, check out this resource on artificial insemination kits. Additionally, if you’re seeking authoritative information on the birthing team, take a look at this site. For an excellent resource on pregnancy and home insemination, I recommend this podcast.
In summary, my relationship with my stomach is a blend of pride and acceptance, as it symbolizes the extraordinary journey of motherhood and the beautiful lives I have nurtured.