Parenting
Updated: Feb. 3, 2016
Originally Published: Oct. 12, 2015
What did I say to my wife about the transformations her body underwent after giving birth? Honestly, nothing at all.
First off, my wife’s postpartum figure is not really my place to comment on. Sure, I’m her partner, but in the grand scheme of opinions, a husband’s perspective on his wife’s postpartum body falls somewhere between a teenager critiquing modern art and my toddler’s insistence on another bedtime cuddle.
Let’s also acknowledge that pregnancy doesn’t happen in isolation; I played a direct role in the changes that took place. Essentially, when we decided to start a family, I was not just saying, “Let’s have a baby!” but also, “Hey, love, I’d like you to carry our child for almost a year. If all goes well, we’ll bring a new life into this world, but this journey will also bring about significant alterations to your hormones, your mind, your personality, and yes, your body. You’ll become a human dairy farm, and there’s a good chance you’ll gain enough weight to move up several weight classes in boxing.” And that’s not even considering the physical symptoms of pregnancy, which might sound like the chilling conclusion to a new medication commercial: Pregnadon’t.
The reality becomes even more profound with subsequent pregnancies. My wife and I are parents to two amazing kids, but she endured four pregnancies in total (our success rate wasn’t stellar). That amounts to an exhausting 26 months filled with discomfort, cravings (pineapple and curly fries became a staple during the last pregnancy), and the aftermath of breastfeeding along with the scars from C-sections.
Let’s be clear: My wife’s body has changed as a result of pregnancy, but who cares? Changes or not, she remains the fiery redhead I fell in love with. And I’ve changed too. When I said “I do” at 27, I was active, lifting weights and running. Now, my physical activities consist of flying my infant daughter around the living room and chasing my 3-year-old while pretending to be a character from Frozen. The only real struggle I face these days is deciding between three or six slices of pizza on delivery night.
The idea of critiquing my wife’s postpartum body is not only inappropriate but downright selfish. I have no expertise in areas like episiotomies, stretch marks, or workplace biases that new mothers often confront.
Consider this: if one of your buddies from the local softball league was sidelined for months, gained weight, and then had to undergo major surgery, you wouldn’t be pondering his abs or scars. Instead, you’d be celebrating his survival with high-fives, saying, “Dude, you made it!” The only difference with pregnancy is that, assuming everything goes well, your partner doesn’t just survive; she brings a new human into the world.
And not just any human—this child is your own. I cherish my wife’s postpartum body because it symbolizes our family, and my family is what makes every day worthwhile. Not to mention, after all we’ve been through, she still chooses to share a bed with me.
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Summary:
This article reflects on the author’s perspective regarding his wife’s postpartum body, emphasizing that physical changes from pregnancy are natural and should be embraced. The author shares personal anecdotes and highlights the importance of appreciating the journey of parenthood and the family created through it.