Why Your Mom-Bod Is Freaking Awesome


I stood in front of my mirror and began the routine I had perfected over 26 years. I tugged at my frizzy, wild hair, pinched at extra rolls, sighed at the glimmering stretch marks, and tried in vain to perk up those slowly descending breasts. From the first hormonal surges of puberty that caused bumps and curves to sprout, I had trained myself to inventory my body in two columns: Too much and not enough. Too many curls, too little chest, too much weight from the back, too little from the front. Carrying and birthing a tiny human had expanded my list exponentially.

mom with baby words

As I grimaced, I noticed movement next to me. My daughter, barely over a year, looked up at me, eyes pure and round, drinking me in. I took in her tiny perfection and prayed for her to walk more confidently than I ever did. In that moment, my worldview changed.

I realized that my own insecurities, my list of too much/not enough was going to be her training manual. Wouldn’t she look at herself and see me? She has my hair, the curve of my face, that same crooked smile and large teeth. She may want children of her own in the future and inspect the way my body carried that change, and the way my heart responded.

I realized my body could either radiate shame or proof of a life well-lived. So I stopped. I stopped compiling my list. I stopped grimacing and adjusting. I didn’t “let myself go,” I simply stopped degrading the self I had been given. I vowed to stop hating, and start celebrating my body: “fake it ‘til you make it” style. I can’t say it happened overnight, but five years and two more babies later I am quicker to brush off those negative thoughts. There is confidence and joy to be found in forming a habit of loving your motherhood body.

You can’t hate the way you look while telling the child who looks like you that he or she is beautiful.

So, I’m compiling a new list — and so should you, because whether you realize it or not, your baby is watching. Someday they’ll look in the mirror and see those same thick ankles or wild curls, so teach them how awesome they are now.

Why Your Mom-Bod Is Freaking Awesome:

It grew, released, and fed a tiny human . . . in the most implausible ways possible. The timing needed for conception is absolutely ludicrous. Then that baby — that YOU made — makes its way through an intricate, yet laughable opening. The average size of a newborn’s head is 14 inches, while a vaginal delivery requires only a dilation to 10 cm. Math can’t explain it, so it must be magic! Now, let’s talk about those feedings. Breastfeeding, bottle-feeding, pumping, paying for formula . . . the fact that you kept that little bugger alive while living on a prayer and a cup of coffee is worthy of high praise.

Those stretch marks are your very own Purple Heart. They may be literally purple! Sure, some of those stretched areas are from sleeves of Oreos, but most of them are simply a sweet reminder of your child’s existence (for when they go off to college and stop calling you). Seriously though, you have walked hard roads to bear children, and war stories are only good if you have sparkling scars to prove them.

The lower your bust, the easier your job gets. By child number three, breastfeeding takes on a whole new angle. Just cozy up on the couch and lay that baby in your lap. Voila! Hands-free feedings! Now use those freed hands to Google some of the crazy things breastfeeding accomplishes . . . you’ll never view your low-hanging fruit the same again!

You have superpowers! Ok, sure, you grew hair on your back and salivated excessively for nine months. But you can also smell the cheeseburger being consumed in the SUV two lanes over. A distant baby cries and you can tell by the pitch and tempo exactly what it needs. You regularly forget your name, but your kisses heal wounds, your hugs erase nightmares, and your need to pee has the power to stir up every urgent need in man, child, or dog within a 1,700 square-foot radius.

Curves for the win. Mom curves are the best! They literally support your child (and the plethora of equipment they require). They provide buffers for that weird stage between crawling and walking when babies move with the stamina of a pro-athlete, but the coordination of a slippery, uncooked hot dog. They provide security, comfort, and soft landings. Embrace them; rock them; you earned them.

It’s time to let yourself see the beauty in your body. Dark circles, dirty hair, and dried snot mean nothing to those adoring eyes of your little one.

This season isn’t forever. You will comb your hair again, and the aroma of spit up will eventually fade. Until then, bask in the unconventional beauty of learning to love deeply and desperately. The hard, worthy work you are doing is giving you a fierce loveliness . . . even in your three-day sweatpants.

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Beth and her husband, Joe, met in Oklahoma but were quickly transplanted to Texas in pursuit of full-time ministry. Mama to three perfectly unique and spunky girls, she spends her time adventuring in the day-to-day. She loves Jesus, all the plants, and sipping coffee while listening to other people’s stories. Read some of them, and her own thoughts on the joys and trials of faith and parenting at Psalm One Twenty Six. Or follow her on Instagram. Beth joined the team as the community sponsorship coordinator in March 2018, but now works as a co-host for the Momfessions Podcast.


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