Dear Uninvited Abdominal Flap,
I must express my deep frustration with your existence. I find myself unsure of how to label you—“flap,” “shelf,” or perhaps some technical term I’m unaware of. Regardless, my feelings toward you are abundantly clear: I harbor a great disdain.
Our first encounter occurred shortly after my cesarean section, as I cautiously explored the unfamiliar landscape of my lower abdomen. Initially, I thought the swelling would subside as I healed. How naïve I was! Months have passed since my baby transitioned from infant to toddler, yet you persist, an unwelcome reminder of the changes my body has endured.
Despite attempts to embrace my new reality, I am constantly reminded of your presence. Each time I adjust you or tuck you into my underwear, I’m hit with a wave of resentment. Uplifting articles on body positivity can only do so much; what I truly seek is a more permanent solution to this unsightly reminder of motherhood.
While I never resembled a swimsuit model pre-baby, your contribution hasn’t improved my midsection’s appearance. At least stretch marks can be concealed beneath clothing, but not you—oh no, you seem to thrive on visibility. When I wear my favorite yoga pants, it feels as though I’m sporting a neon sign directing attention to your conspicuous presence. The anxiety of ensuring you’re covered is ever-present, as I worry about the unflattering comparisons that might arise.
To add insult to injury, your positioning makes it impossible to simply suck you in. I’ve spent considerably on shapewear, yet even when you’re momentarily hidden, I feel your weight, lurking beneath layers, waiting to spill over.
Grooming has become an awkward affair, as lifting you is a necessity, making the process tedious and disheartening. The numbness you exhibit only adds to the oddity; at least I can take solace in the fact that I’m less likely to feel pain when I inadvertently trap you in my jeans.
In summary, I am thoroughly exhausted by your presence. No one prepared me for your arrival, and you certainly weren’t invited to stay. Despite my efforts to exercise and cope, I find myself continually searching for longer shirts to cover you. But rest assured, if fortune smiles upon me, I will seek your eviction through surgical means.
So, consider this a warning—I may very well be buying a lottery ticket soon.
Sincerely,
Jordan
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In conclusion, acknowledging the complexities of post-pregnancy bodies is crucial, and it’s essential to find support through shared experiences and professional advice.