Curvy. Tall. Voluptuous. Amazon-like. Not exactly petite. Baby hippo. In the eleven months since my little one arrived, these are just some of the colorful ways I’ve described my body. While I may be statuesque, I’ll readily confess that my midsection—complete with glorious stretch marks—sometimes feels on the verge of attempting the Truffle Shuffle. With the way it resembles a droopy backside, I’ve affectionately dubbed it the “front butt” or “Frutt.” I’ve also noticed a few extra chins. My breasts are large but uneven—thanks to my baby favoring one side during nursing. And let’s not forget how my pants seem perpetually at risk of slipping down due to my Frutt pushing them lower.
And you know what? I’m completely fine with it.
What I struggle to comprehend is why others seem to have an issue with my body. From the moment my baby bump started showing at just three months—yes, THREE months—I’ve been bombarded with unsolicited comments about my weight.
- “Wow, you’re really growing!”
- “Oh, are you expecting twins?”
- “Good luck getting rid of that baby weight…”
- “That baby is going to be enormous!”
(Okay, I admit the last one turned out to be true; my son weighed in at a whopping 10 pounds, 8 ounces. But come on, they didn’t know that when they made their comments, so maybe they could keep it to themselves.)
I often found myself on the verge of a hormone-induced meltdown in medical settings, especially when a particularly petite nurse would glance between me and the scale and dryly suggest, “Do you want to take off your boots?”
No, I don’t want to remove my damn boots.
As the postpartum weight stubbornly stuck around—despite losing the pounds I gained during pregnancy—I realized that the weight I had accumulated after quitting smoking two years prior had settled into a new form I hadn’t anticipated.
For the most part, I’m okay with this new reality. I gave birth to a big, healthy baby, and while I’d like to feel a bit more confident in my skin, it’s not my primary concern right now.
During a recent checkup, a doctor asked me if I was aware I was overweight. Really? I had no clue! After all, I never look in mirrors and certainly don’t buy new clothes! Thanks for the enlightening news, doc!
Perhaps my perspective isn’t the conventional one, and I don’t claim to be overflowing with confidence. I still find myself rummaging through my closet, searching for outfits that will conceal my Frutt at least once a week. Occasionally, I still squeeze into my maternity jeans and, if I’m honest, I often delete photos from my husband’s phone that showcase my multiple chins.
Some women are fortunate enough for the weight to vanish shortly after giving birth. I am not one of them. Regardless of the healthy meals I prepare to nourish my son, the extra weight remains. I applaud those women who work tirelessly to reclaim their figures; I genuinely admire their dedication. As for me, a day filled with work, playtime, and household chores often leaves me crashing on the couch, makeup still intact.
What I do have is a loving husband who embraces me—flaws and all—and a beautiful son who fills my heart with joy. Someday, I may shed the chins and the Frutt, and I’ll probably retire those maternity jeans. But for now, you’ll find me cherishing every moment with my family.
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In summary, while I’m not in a rush to lose the baby weight, I’m embracing my journey of motherhood with love and acceptance.