I went 8 months with only two or three little stretch marks and then BAM! Woke up like this 💁🏼. I remember crying thinking "I'll never be able to wear a bikini!" or "will my husband even find me attractive anymore?". Silly thoughts looking back now. I remember the night I woke up and hadn't felt my baby move; I was in a panic. I woke my husband up crying thinking something horrible had happened. We rushed to the ER and horrible thoughts flooded my mind. I didn't care if my whole body was covered in stretch marks if it meant my baby was okay. I didn't care if this heartburn lasts forever just please let my baby be okay. There were so many miserable times during my pregnancy that didn't even matter at that point. All I cared about was if my baby was okay. The second I heard her little heart beat on the monitor a wave of relief, joy, and pure bliss overwhelmed me. In that moment I remembered that my body is creating life. My body is stretching to accommodate my precious baby and that was okay. So today as I look down and see those beautiful stretch marks I'm reminded that It doesn't matter. She is okay and she is healthy because of those marks. She is alive because my body grew to give her life. I love these marks.
I Remember Being Fat-Shamed Before I Even Knew What Fat-Shaming Was
One of my least favourite childhood memories can be traced back to a cramped, curtained high-street fitting room with mirrors on all sides. I can’t