I’m Medically Obese :: Learning to Love Your Mom-Bod

I recently went to the urgent care, and the doctor who evaluated me did an amazing job. I went for my terrible migraines!

When I looked at my discharge paperwork, it stated that I am an OBESE FEMALE.

This hit me. I’ve always been the smallest in the room. I was underweight when I graduated high school. I realize that I don’t have my pre-pregnancy body anymore, but I didn’t realize that my body had changed that much.

Since pregnancy, I have avoided looking at my stomach. I’ve also avoided taking care of myself as I take care of my two young kiddos.

So I guess I need to start loving my mom-bod. What is a mom-bod? And how do I learn how to love it?

I looked up what “mom-bod” means, and this is what the internet says: “A mom-bod is a slang term used to describe the body shape of many mothers who have gone through pregnancy, which typically includes extra weight around the waist and hips.” 

Yes. Yes. I agree with this definition. I have extra weight . . . everywhere! And I have some on my arms and thighs too. 

But how do we learn to love our mom-bods? Here are a few ways–that are not the typical ways–to love your mom bod.

Appreciate your stretch marks and scars. Tell yourself how beautiful they are until you believe it! 

My stretch marks are on my stomach, legs, sides . . . I need to let myself love them. They are each there for a reason. I have seen some people get their stretch marks tattooed to look like beautiful mermaid scales. These stretch marks mean that our bodies have grown. Grown for our babies, grown to take care of those babies, grown for breastfeeding, whatever the case might be. We grew and gained these beautiful badges of honor called stretch marks. These marks make us who we are as mothers. We should love them and wear them proudly. I grab my stomach and thigh stretch marks in front of my kiddos sometimes, and I tell them how I got them and how cool they are. Even though I don’t always believe it myself, I’m starting to. 

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Some of us also have scars. Scars from C-sections or vaginal tears. We also have scars from running after our toddler and trying to save their life before a car runs over them on the road and then we trip and fall and there were no cars on the road in the first place . . . Or when you trip over the swing, stuffed bear, and pack and play while holding your 6-month-old, trying not to break them and not caring if you break you. These are all scars to be proud of. Acknowledge your scars, know they are there, and love them. Each and every one of them. Just like a battle scar from war! We are strong!

Remember all of the tough times that make that body a mom-bod.

I remember back on times that made me a tough mom with a tough body. I had to run to the bathroom the first time I came home with my baby as a single mom. He was crying, and I fed him on the toilet. It seems so silly now, but it’s the first moment we had at home alone. My body was hurting and healing from a traumatic birth, and I could breastfeed and calm this beautiful baby boy. I will remember this moment forever. It was like peace in the middle of a huge storm. 

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While breastfeeding my second baby, I remember eating so many Oreo cookies. I was addicted. I loved those cookies and did not want to pump or breastfeed without 10 or more Oreo cookies! But I was struggling horribly with Postpartum Depression, and Oreos were my happy place. It was a perfect balance while I was struggling with being a mother of two. My mom-bod deserved those cookies!

Speaking of PPD, that is hard! I didn’t realize I had it until my daughter was almost a year old. I think it lasted longer than that. It was a tough road because I thought I had to be tough. I thought I had to be the best mom and that I was failing no matter what I did or didn’t do.

It’s hard to tell people when you are drowning–you don’t want anyone to look at you any differently.

I wouldn’t take a shower for weeks. I remember getting my hair cut by my sister-in-law. She told me that I needed to start brushing my hair again because I had a huge ball of knots on the back of my head from having my hair in a messy bun all the time. I remember this time to remember to take care of myself.

Give yourself time.

Give yourself time. Time to love yourself again. Time to heal. And time to take care of your children and be a mother. Give yourself time to be you. Time to get your life together. Time to do the laundry. Give yourself time to relax. Time to drink some water. Time to give yourself some credit.

I had to be okay with this. I used to be on time and early for every appointment or meeting that I had. Once I had kids, I had to learn to get more people ready and that it will take more time to get out of the door. I had to accept that I will usually be late now. Don’t get me wrong, there are good days when we are on time. But I’ve learned to let it go if I am running late.

I don’t speed through traffic anymore to get somewhere on time. I just accept my fate as a late mom. 

Also I had to learn how to let myself sleep. I needed to give myself that time to sleep. I was so anxious as a single mom that something would happen–I would be up all night with one eye open. Let yourself sleep. Give yourself that time. 

I had to learn how to give myself time to take care of myself. Because I spent every second of every day taking care of my children, I ended up neglecting myself. I didn’t eat properly or take showers. I would try to make every free moment a learning lesson with my kiddos. We made every single letter of the alphabet and taped it to the wall. We spent hours outside. I was doing so much to be a mom, but I was never Jade. Jade was slowly drowning on the inside while mom tried to do her best. So, take the time. It’s never worth it to lose yourself. I promise you that. 

Embrace and love your mom-bod. Know that your mom-bod was not easy to earn. It’s a badge of honor. Give yourself time to heal, grow, and love your mom-bad.

The opinions expressed in this post are those of the author. They do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of ABQ Mom, its executive team, other contributors to the site, its sponsors or partners, or any organizations the aforementioned might be affiliated with.