As I write this, I am a tad bit over eight months pregnant (Oh my gosh!) and I know what you’re thinking—I really have done a terrible job of documenting this pregnancy, publicly anyway (I keep a private journal of damn-near everything). While I am the type of person that definitely believes some things are just meant to stay private, I am also someone who appreciates when others share their experiences to help me learn and feel inspired, so I try to do the same for others. So today, when I realized just how little I have posted about my pregnancy, I couldn’t help but to feel a little disappointed in myself. I couldn’t help but wonder, why have I not posted more? Have I not enjoyed being pregnant? Am I not really proud of this baby?
When I really thought about it, I realized the answer. First, there have been things I simply did not want to share. I hadn’t wanted the world to know my baby’s name, the details of my birth plan, or some other things that will be surrounding his birth. I do not have any regrets about not sharing those things. In the future, maybe I will. Or won’t. Who knows? Secondly though, I had not been posting more about my pregnancy not because I felt ashamed or because I haven’t been excited, but because I have felt very uncomfortable in my growing body. This part I do regret.
Early on in my pregnancy, I had talked about feeling joyful in the changes, but that was very easy for me to say when I still had yet to gain a pound or inch, much less twenty. When I did start to really grow though, the weight and inches came on fast and strong, and it was a lot for me to handle to be quite honest. When I had my first prenatal appointment after Christmas break, I wept when my midwife told me my weight.
For some of you, this may seem very dramatic, but this moment was very harsh and real for me. In my twenty-five years of life, I had never liked my body and had very few moments where I was able to feel any amount of confidence in my looks. The weight of the “Man, you’re huge!” comments, along with the weight of the baby, fell hard on me. Although Corey has patiently talked me through countless emotional outbursts and a few of my coworkers have showered me in kind words, my silly mind continued to focus on the negative and let voices from my past to live in my present.
Super toxic. No more.
This past weekend, I was asked to model for a fitness apparel line that is specifically being marketed toward pregnant women (Y’all, the stretch and comfort factor of Halio Lifestyle Athletica is no joke). My good friend was heading the campaign and the one who asked me to model, which is honestly about 90% of the reason I said yes. I did not feel like I should be having my picture taken, much less be shown to help market a fitness line. “No one is going to want to look at this,” I told Corey, looking down at my huge belly.
The day of the shoot, I was still feeling uneasy. The leggings and sports bra I wore were absolutely beautiful, but I still tensed up when asked to remove my sweatshirt. I still took it off though and posed and laughed along, trying my best to fake it till I made it. My girlfriend who was taking the pictures hyped me up the entire time, but again, I just wasn’t feeling myself.
When she sent me some of the photos the next day, telling me how cute she thought I looked, I still wasn’t feeling myself.
I kept coming back to look at the photos though. Initially it was hard to look. Then I would openly gawk at myself, zooming in to criticize the moon attached to my abdomen and how scrawny my limbs looked in comparison. Eventually though, I became kind of amazed at myself. It finally hit me.
I’m growing a gosh darn baby in my belly!
For the past year, especially the last eight months, I have eaten a clean diet and put in hard work at the gym and done all that I could to gain and improve health. As a result, my body has been able not only to conceive a child, but to grow and develop a healthy one. I still don’t think my belly is the most beautiful of them all, but I know it is beautiful. Baby Boy and I have definitely grown bigger these past eight months, but we’ve also grown stronger and healthier. I have learned my limits and so much more. That is something I am proud of.
I am proud.
I am also very inspired and determined. I am inspired and determined to continue putting in the work to take care of my body (and mind) as this little dude continues to cook, and to continue doing so after he is born. I want to model for both my boys what a happy and healthy woman looks like, and I also want to continue feeling proud of myself. I figured if I wrote about it here, I might bring some comfort to another mom, and I also will give myself some accountability. A journey of health and improvement is one I can definitely promise to document.
Always and forever I am thankful to the people who have done nothing but lift me up (literally Corey with the belly lifts, you the real MVP) throughout this pregnancy. Always and forever thankful to be pregnant.
