I grew up in the dance studio. From age three, I was in a black leotard and pink tights, learning about movement and my body. As a young person, I thrived on the art of dance: specifically tap, jazz and ballet. I loved learning combinations and routines, practicing to perfect my technique and nothing breathed life into me like performing on stage. Music and dance became my life passion and the dance studio was one place where I felt most myself and most at home. It still is.
As it goes with most young girls, I naturally became very aware of “body image” in my middle school and tween years. Some days, being in a dance studio wearing spandex in front of head-to-toe mirrors amplified every imperfection I could find with my young eyes. For the most part, I suppressed my own self criticism and focused on my lessons. But, as I entered my teen years and more curves began to form, I became more and more self-aware and self-critical of how my body was developing. It was a mental struggle that I battled from time to time but eventually started to overcome in college when I gradually grew more comfortable in my own skin.
Six years later, I married my college sweetheart, we moved to Tennessee, and at age 28, we were pregnant with our first child. I remember being especially anxious about how my body would morph and change over the pregnancy. How much weight would I gain, how would my 5’2” frame carry a pregnancy gracefully? How would my short torso form a massive baby bump and would I be able to bounce back after delivery? I remember the tears of overwhelm I shed when I hit the 12 week mark and all of my jeans were becoming too tight around my waist. Of course, I expected my body to change over the course of the pregnancy, but my history of body image anxieties often accompanied the gradual changes I felt and saw in the mirror.
Fast forward two years later – my husband and I found ourselves in the thick of a battle with secondary infertility. As I sat in that pain, suddenly it seemed like a mental switch flipped and my perspective holding every anxious thought to do with body image and pregnancy washed away. I became the girl you’d see aimlessly walking through the maternity section, brushing my hand over clothes that I begged to wear. What mountain I would’ve climbed to have a baby bump again, to savor the magic of a baby forming inside of me, and to feel those baby kicks from the miracle growing and developing each day. Pregnancy felt like a golden ticket that I couldn’t reach. I worked as hard as I could to make it happen, this time, never once thinking about the inconveniences it might afford my body. A girl who once struggled with body image became a girl who would’ve done anything to gain the weight, swell up with fluid, and ultimately carry another baby. Because, goodness knows, it would have been a privilege to do it all again. Although I would never wish an infertility experience on anyone, I am thankful for this one of many lessons that it taught me: that my body and every woman’s body is an amazing creation that’s capable of incredible things. Pregnant or not, our bodies are temples not to be criticized….but to be respected and celebrated!
As I’m entering my last 3 months of my last pregnancy, bittersweet emotions flood my mind as I’m trying to soak up and savor these fleeting days – 84 to be exact. At the moment, sleeping is uncomfortable, but when I wake up, I get to lie still for a few minutes and feel her baby kicks. Heartburn is not the best feeling, but when it comes, I love placing my hand on my belly and getting to dream of who she is and who she will be. Twenty pounds gained, sixty pounds gained, debilitating nausea or aches and pains galore…..this time, I wouldn’t cry a single tear over the way this baby is shaping me. This is most likely my last time growing and nourishing and dreaming about a newborn baby. The pages in my book are turning, and they are turning fast. I consider myself immensely blessed for the opportunity to be present and consciously grateful for this tremendous load I carry each day. And, though my body may not be the maternity-model worthy, MY body is carrying OUR baby and THAT I LOVE.
Love this!!
Thank you, Laura!