Not long ago, I found myself throwing an all-too-familiar pity party after an exasperating experience while shopping for a swimsuit. Before I became a mom, I could slip into any size without a second thought. Those carefree days are long gone. Now, I find myself outside the dressing room, clutching an array of sizes, devoid of confidence and sweating profusely as if I’m attempting to smuggle contraband across the border.
This transformation of my body didn’t happen overnight; it took nine months to create a little human. So why did I expect my body to bounce back immediately after giving birth? I suspect those glossy magazines showcasing fit celebrity moms might have set unrealistic expectations. The reality is that reclaiming a healthy body takes time and effort. Thankfully, there are moments when I don’t actively despise my stomach—small victories, right?
As an American, I often look for someone to blame for my frustrations. Society is an easy target. Isn’t it strange that women are only encouraged to embrace their curves during pregnancy? Once I emerged from the “it’s a human baby, not a food baby” phase, I reveled in wearing fitted clothes without constantly adjusting. Now, the only time I wear something snug is on laundry day, forced into it by necessity. I’ve even found myself hiding from the delivery guy when I’m decked out in my comfiest sweatpants.
With summer fast approaching and the desire to avoid social exile, I had to channel the strength of my ancestors for round two of swimsuit shopping. While I haven’t settled on the classic black one-piece, I certainly don’t fit into the demographic for Target’s neon, tribal-print bikinis either. Instead, I wandered through the aisles, searching for that elusive balance between practical and stylish. After selecting a few choices, I headed to the fitting room, only to be confronted by what might as well have been a funhouse mirror. Did I really have cellulite there?
Just when I thought I’d faced the most humiliating moment of my life—remember that time I “snarted” (sneezing + farting) in front of my doctor?—the universe had other plans. I struggled to pull the swimsuit bottoms past my thighs, battling for circulation. My pride, however, was unmoved by such trivial matters, and I shimmied and jumped until they were finally on. I kid you not, the fabric dug in like twine on a holiday roast. This moment definitely called for a pint of Haagen Dazs. At least.
In the end, I chose a swimsuit that resembled the equivalent of a beige loafer with Dr. Scholl’s inserts—it served its purpose but lacked any real cuteness. Opting for a two-piece made me feel like a daring feminist, so not all was lost. I managed to avoid the dreaded muu muu at any poolside gatherings, and honestly, that was a win in my book. Maybe next year I’ll find the courage to not crop myself out of family beach photos.
Who knows?
If you’re in the same boat, check out our other blog post about embracing your body during swimsuit season here. And for those considering home insemination, this kit is a reliable option as you take this journey. For more information on the success rates of IUI, WebMD has some excellent resources.
In summary, swimsuit season brings out a mix of emotions for many of us, particularly for those navigating body changes after motherhood. Embracing our bodies, regardless of the shape they’re in, is a journey worth taking—one small step at a time.
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