On Monday I saw that
someone had posted a video of the Duke and Duchess of Windsor leaving the
hospital with the royal baby. I try to
avoid celebrity gossip, I get sucked in by glossy photos of the beautiful
people and then I always feel a little dirty afterwards. I don’t know these people, why should I know
these details of their lives? Is my life
so boring that I live through theirs? Usually
I feel badly afterwards like I’ve seen something I shouldn’t have, and I always
feel a little poorer and a little frumpier.
But I have become a sucker for babies, so I clicked. Here’s my inner monologue during the one
minute viewing,
Wait…what,
she let them video her while leaving the hospital? Girl is crazy…well I guess it’s expected of
her. Wow, how insightful of her to have
picked a maternity dress, someone must have told her. She is wearing makeup and has her hair
done? Maybe the nurses held the baby? Well, she is a princess, I’m sure she has
lots of help…Awwww, his daddy is holding him.
So cute…all right, I’m over it, time to go change the laundry.
Sure, there was some
satisfaction tinged around the fact that she still looks six months
pregnant. But, really, that’s actually
great. Makes the rest of feel, well,
normal. We see our friends with their
leftover bellies, but does that happen to everyone? Aren’t their people who leave in their
pre-pregnancy clothes? Wouldn’t the rich
and famous be those that did?
Nope, there she was,
with her leftover belly. I loved
it. I felt sorry for her and was a bit
proud of this person that I do not know.
Then I heard that
people were making rude comments about her.
That her workout regime was posted in a magazine. That people were tweeting that she looked
gross.
Wait…what,
that’s unreasonable! The woman just had
a baby! It takes your uterus six weeks
to go back down! These people must not
have children. They should be spanked. Or have their right to tweet revoked. Most women leave the hospital in sweats and
very large underwear. She looks great. What idiots.
I was talking to friend
about it, a friend I can admit my guilty pleasures to and my silly inner
monologues. She had this to say,
“Maybe we shouldn’t be
seeing her?” Simple and so wise. We’ll
keep her around.
Every time I see a shot
of a woman who is pregnant and in the spotlight I feel bad for her. Pregnancy is the great equalizer of women,
something nasty happens to all of us. I
would hate to be scrutinized through that nine months. I don’t blame women like Angelina Jolie, who
gave birth in Africa, I’m sure she did it to make a statement about Africa and
I’m sure she didn’t mind being away from all the cameras.
On Wednesday I drove a
half an hour to buy blue and white porcelain lamps from a Craigslist ad. I had this conversation with the woman that I
purchasing the lamps from,
“We just bought a house
in Gloucester, so I’ve been spending a lot of time on Craigslist,” me, feeling
like I need to explain my silly Craiglist habit.
“Craigslist is great,”
she smiles, “So you’re expecting another one,” she motions one hand toward my
belly.
“Nope, no I’m not, I
think we’re done,” I say, a tight smile stretching my lips out. I gaze away from her giving her the space to
beck pedal, or, even, apologize.
“Oh, you have kids, how
old are they?” she asks, so even though you’ve just insulted me we’re still
having a friendly conversation. Okay.
“They’re three and
one,” I reply, still stretching that smile.
“Oh one? So that’s why you still have the baby belly,”
she says. I think she thought she was excusing
herself, and not digging the verbal grave she had started shoveling out
deeper.
Yes, I still bought the
lamps. I liked them, they were a
steal. I was still polite. When I relayed the story to my friend who had
come with me (same friend as above) she said,
“I’ve seen you at Gull
[Pond, in a bathing suit] I would punch someone to look like you.” She’s a good friend, we’ll keep her around.
When I relayed the
story to my husband he asked,
“Did you punch
her?” No I didn’t. Another friend said that maybe I just had
‘food baby.’ She’s probably right.
What this woman didn’t
know is that my abdominal wall is not the same after carrying and birthing a
nine pound child. It did not go back
quite right, my abdominals are still bowed outwards, and there seems to be not
much I can do about it other than accept it.
I actually had grown more accepting of it in the last few months. I bought a one piece that makes feel sexy, I
feel comfortable in it and I’m not afraid that my jumblies are going to fall
out. I look around and say, ‘for a
thirty one year old woman who has had two kids, you still look pretty
good.’ I focus on my fitness, how far I
can run, how I am improving in yoga, and I feel strong and healthy. My husband is still interested…all good, right?
That night it didn’t
bother me. One flippant comment from
some insensitive woman. Oh well. Move on.
The next day I woke up
with an emotional hang over. I was
foggy, tired, and incredibly sore from the track workout that I had done the
day before. All the work I had done in
the past few months felt gone, swept away by some stranger. All day I thought about throwing myself on
the floor and doing crunches like a mad woman.
Finally I fought it. Damn it
all. Aren’t I more than just my
appearance? Is that all that
matters? Certainly not, right?
Then I thought about
Kate Middleton, in her world she has to make sure that she looks flawless at
all times, or she gets raked over the coals in every periodical in England and
the US. Even right after giving
birth. When it should be your God given
right to sit around unwashed in a robe for as long as you please. To fall asleep on the couch undisturbed with
a child nestled in your shoulder. To
discover the deeply frightening emotions that accompany bringing a child into
the world without having to or being able to articulate them.
I also feel that my
abdominal is no one else’s business. And
neither should Kate’s be.
1 comment:
Great post. Motherhood should not be about body image. There is so much more to a woman than her body weight and image.
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