I accept the physical transformation that lies ahead of me after giving birth, but unfortunately, our society does not. And that's really quite sad. The following is a true story. A brief encounter with a total stranger that affected me so deeply.
One week after baby #2 was born, I was feeling pretty good. I was adjusting to the recovery after my c-section and I was itching to get out of the house. One week doesn't seem like enough time to recover from a c-section, right? Well, it's not! But for the last 3 months or so of my pregnancy, I had been off my feet, unable to do a lot of the mundane physical activities we all take for granted (you know, like picking up the remote you just dropped on the floor). A quick trip to the grocery store was exciting to me. So I packed up the little sweet pea in her carseat (even though I wasn't supposed to lift anything heavier than her) and off we went.
I only needed 3 things. Easy peasy. Well, not so much... The walk from my car to the store front was slow and painful, and gathering my 3 items, which of course had to be located in all opposite corners of the store, took way longer than expected! Luckily I had the stroller to brace myself against!
I finally grabbed the last item and was heading for the check out when a sweet looking old man approached me and peered into the stroller. I forgot all about my pain and was excited to show off my beautiful baby. But as I waited for his compliment, things got awkward... He didn't say anything for a solid 30 seconds! Instead, he looked down at the baby, then up at me, and back down to the baby. I smiled, waiting for him to say something like "oh she looks just like mama!" But no. He didn't say that. Instead he continued to say nothing as I noticed his eyes weren't gazing at my face, but down toward my stomach!
When he finally spoke, he said "How old is the baby?"
"1 week," I replied.
I kid you not, he did a quadruple take from the baby to my belly and started to open his mouth again.
"Is she borrowed or is it your baby?" He responded.
What the fuck kind of question is that?!
With a fake smile, I mustered all the politeness I possibly could and said "No, she's mine."
The man genuinely looked confused as he guestured to my stomach and started "and you're...?"
'Go ahead and say it, old man. I dare you!' I thought in my head as both anger and shame started to build simultaneously up inside me. But before he could finish his stupid sentence I interrupted him and said quite frankly "I had her one week ago." and pushed the stroller away from him down the aisle before I had a chance to punch him in the face (clean up on aisle 2!). I made my way to the check out, and into my car as fast as I could where I cried the whole ride home.
The man must have been about 80 years old, but seriously? How would that even make sense for me to have a baby and one week later be pregnant enough to be showing that much? I know I shouldn't have been bothered by that one stupid old man, but I was! I was angry at his rudeness and ashamed of my body. My post partom belly wasn't even a thought in my head until that moment. I was aware that I walked out of the hospital still looking like I was 7 or 8 months pregnant, but I was more concerned about my surgical recovery and taking care of my 2 girls. I knew my body was going to be something I would have to work really hard at later on, but LATER ON! It's only been one freaking week!
Leave it to our society to expect a new mom to spring right back into shape as soon as she steps out of the hospital. We can't all be Kate Middleton for God's sake!
I am very much looking forward to working out again and getting my body at least close to what it was before, but for now I'm enjoying every snuggle with my girls while I'm home with them on maternity leave. The treadmill will still be in the basement waiting for me when I'm ready. Until then, this will be my mantra:
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