Body by Baby

My younger daughter made a comment in the car the other day that I am still wondering about. This is not unusual for her, as she often makes baffling, random statements, verbally or in writing - she recently walked up to me in the kitchen and handed me a piece of paper that read, "When I was a Hollywood star, I was a source of fabulous", and walked away.

We were talking about maternity clothes and how your body changes during pregnancy, as her aunt had recently come to retrieve some of her pre-baby clothes from our attic, when she said, "Moms who have had babies look different from, you know, teenagers." Curious, I asked her to elaborate. "I don't want to. It's private." The phrase "it's private" is sort of a safety in our house. If you really don't want to talk about something, saying it's private earns you the right to silence unless, of course, it's a matter of safety or did you take your sister Beanie Baby, then, start talkin'.

Over the next few days, I came up with several ideas and approached her with them. Did she think a woman's private parts looked different after birth? No. Did she think their breasts looked different? Negative. Their bodies? Nuh-uh. I am still stumped, dear readers, but after giving it some thought, I realized there really isn't a major body part that isn't affected by the process of growing a life inside of you and pushing or having it cut out. Let's start from the ground up, shall we?

You really wouldn't think one's feet would be affected by having procreated, but you would be wrong. Yes, we all know some women's feet swell when they are pregnant, and a few ladies even have their feet remain a size larger permanently after delivery. That did not, fortunately, happen to me, since not fitting into the pony heels again would enrage me more than not fitting into my pre-pregnancy jeans, but my feet did change. Once upon a time I had such pretty feet. Monthly pedicures were just part of the schedule like going to the dry cleaner. Now, come summer, I struggle to find ten minutes to throw some polish on my toes - or at least the ones that are peeking out of my sandals - which Little Man will inevitably step on three minutes later. Whenever I do find the time, twice a year, to get a professional pedicure, I get the same tsk-tsking from the tiny Korean working on my feet. "So rough. You need file each day." Sure lady. I barely have time to wash my hair, I definitely have time to scrub the dead skin cells off my feet. Don't judge that woman at the pool who looks like she has hooves instead of feet. Offer to watch her kids.

Moving northward, we arrive at the legs. Legs affected by kids, you say? Varicose veins, spider veins - your legs look like a subway map of New York City during pregnancy and, oftentimes, after. I remember catching a rear view of my legs at the end of my pregnancy with LM and nearly burst into tears upon seeing the web of blue. Thankfully, that subsided once I got him out, but while my skin has returned to a normal color, it's hard to see through all the hair to tell. I am lucky enough to have very blond body hair, but if I didn't, I'd look like a man or a lesbian*. I have an appointment with a razor about once a week. H jokingly calls me a yeti. I jokingly punch him in the head.

Speaking of hair, once you have kids, the bikini area upkeep is spotty at best. Again, like the feet, public display of that which is normally covered during summer does mean action needs to be taken since I haven't resorted to a bathing dress yet. Back in the day, waxing was pretty regular. In fact, I continued to wax my whole first pregnancy. Did I really think my doctor was going to care? Apparently yes, since my ninth month found me rolling around on a esthetician's table like a beached whale in paper panties. Of course the lady-bit description post-pregnancy should include what happens to your stuff after squeezing out a nine pound baby, but I'll spare you (you're welcome male readers). You already know there is tearing and then sewing in most cases. Remember how fun it was losing your virginity? The good news is you will most likely get to do it all over again each time you deliver vaginally. Either that, or there will be an echo.

Next on our tour, the stomach. Every abdominzer-perfect-abs-piece-of-shit on TV uses post-partum women in their testimonials. Why? Because your stomach will never be the same after kids. Yes, you can lose all the weight. Yes, you can get all the muscle tone back. Yes, your stomach can be flat as a pancake again. You just need to work your damn ass of for it. Oh, and the kicker? Even when Madonna bends at the waist, the skin on her concave stomach still wrinkles like a Shar Pei. Once the skin has been stretched, it ain't going back to normal. You stomach skin has this thin, loose consistency that only a tummy tuck can fix. I myself have made peace with it. The kids can have fun drawing a nose and whiskers on it at least.

So do you remember those women in National Geographic we all used to snicker at in school? I recall thinking to myself, "Jesus! Ever herd of a supportive bra?" I'm sure that African woman I was mocking would have said to me, "Ever nursed six kids until they were each two and a half?" Yes, enjoy those giant ta-tas you have while nursing now, since once you're done all you'll have to remember them by are bras that are too big and sad, deflated versions of your once glorious rack. Apparently, there is some kind of "pencil test" to see if your breasts are drooping. I think it's safe to say I would need the pencil case test.

Now we've reached the top and you think we're done. Oh, no. Your head is just as affected as the rest of your body. Except these changes are not so much caused by pregnancy as by caring for the actual baby. Under eye circles from lack of sleep, hair in desperate need of a cut (or a wash and brushing at the very least). And roots? I think I became part skunk for a few weeks after Little Man was born and feeding every two hours. Color takes three and I was reticent to whip out a breast in the salon, no matter how much they love me there. I did pump in the bathroom a few times though.

And your skin. You will use sunscreen more religiously since you are slathering it on your progeny, but the wrinkles come anyway. I used to wonder where these frown lines came from, until I caught glimpse of myself in a mirror at the mall yelling at Little Man to not even think about jumping in the fountain. The lack of makeup was also very helpful, rendering every flaw as visible as possible in the fluorescent light.

The havoc wreaked on your body after kids can be rather depressing since a lot of it is only correctable with surgery and unlike Kate Gosselin, I'm not going there. I could wax all poetic and say these changes are like a badge of honor and I should be proud of what my body has done. I guess, but I choose to ignore the bad and see how having kids has improved my body. My arms are stronger than ever. True, I have a bit of a lop-sided situation with my right arm after carrying Little Man for three and a half years. He has cut my weight workout in half though. My legs are strong from running after toddlers and hopscotch training. I am more flexible, contorting myself into amazing shapes to deliver snacks and books to passengers in the back of the van.
And even though I have a definite "eleven" in the middle of my brow, I also have a nice set of crow's feet from all the smiling.

If your heart and mind are never the same after kids, how can we expect our bodies to be? Once I had a baby, I felt like a a totally different person, so it makes sense that I looked like one in some ways.

Doesn't mean I don't miss my old boobs though.

*Best unshaven legs story ever? My sister was a camp counselor in Greenwich, CT and Tommy Hilfiger's daughter, five at the time, was in her group. Little Hilfiger strokes my sister's leg and says, "You feel like my dad."