Last January
January 2, 2009
I know that it hasn’t yet been a year since I found out that I was pregnant but we are pretty darn close. With that, I thought that I would post something that I wrote for our book… P.S. I love you Jude and I wouldn’t trade you for anything!
“ Two Pink Lines
January 14th 2008. I (Joy) sat on a cold hard surface as a numbing sensation began to fill my entire body. Within seconds, my heart began to race and my breath came in short spurts. The object in my hand had just informed me that the course of my future was going to be altered, permanently. All this, I knew, simply by two pink lines. I was pregnant.
Yes, pregnancy is an exciting and amazing time in which women have the unique opportunity to experience life within themselves. Many women are overwhelmed with happiness at the sight of a positive pregnancy test. I, however, was in such shock that I couldn’t quite figure out how I felt. I was only twenty-two and had been married for only six months. We both wanted to have children eventually… in five or six years. After a couple of days of processing the pregnancy, and many encouraging words from the hubby, I was finally ready to face reality. Since I am one of those people who do better with lots of information, I geared up to learn everything that I could about my pregnancy; do’s and don’ts, helpful tips and what to expect.
I devoured the information and found myself creating a new lifestyle, one that didn’t include sushi, soft cheese, wine or skiing (I fall to much for it to be a safe activity). Along with my lifestyle change, I noticed a change in my perspective and mentality where body image was concerned. I was catapulted overnight into a body which was no longer my own, but rather a mini factory set up for my future son or daughter. My primary objective was to make sure that my “factory” was a safe place for the work that would be done.
I immediately modified my workouts so that I wouldn’t put unnecessary strain on my body, eliminated most ab work and made sure to keep my heart rate within a safe range. This is the first time since high school that working out is only for my health with no ulterior motives like flat abs or fitting into my jeans. These aren’t bad motivations but it is such a strange thing to go to the gym knowing that my abs will start to look like jello, my hips will widen even more (scary thought, I know), and I will pack on about 30 pounds.
However, it also freed me to take a new look at myself. Wow, I thought, as I looked in the mirror. I look great. I wanted to capture the image before me and frame it in my mind. Soon, I could have spider and varicose veins covering my legs and stretch marks reaching from east to west along my torso. My breasts will certainly never look the same and I am sure that I will encounter other surprises throughout the pregnancy. Why had I taken so long to appreciate what I had? What a waste of time. I can accept that my body may be forever changed after pregnancy, but I am grieved that I wasted what short time I had to enjoy a body that hadn’t yet been put through the strains of pregnancy.
~ In the early stages of writing this book, Tiffany and I talked about the idea of beauty being gone, hence, what if it were gone. We talked about aging, accidents and I offered up the idea of pregnancy. And isn’t it interesting that God decided to give me firsthand knowledge of the subject that I would be writing about. Is it a little scary at times? Yes. Do I sometimes try to ignore facts and statistics like, 90% of women will develop stretch marks? Yes. Do I plan to watch as an army of cellulite decides to make camp on my thighs? No!
As a matter of fact, I was laughing as I reread the above section that I wrote about a month and a half ago because my abs have started to look like jello. I think Jenny McCarthy describes it best in her book, Belly laughs, when she says that we feel that it is so obvious that we are pregnant but to the rest of the world, it just looks like we are getting fat. And my hips? Well, the extra cushioning on them has quickly eliminated half of the jeans in my closet. I feel like I am watching both the discovery channel and the sci-fi channel as I watch my body grow and change. I am intrigued and interested at times yet shocked and puzzled when I discover new blood vessels, protrusions and marks.
It is truly a magnificent/ bizarre/ invigorating/ draining experience to be pregnant. But, is it worth it? A thousand times over. I can’t even begin to imagine the awe that I will feel when I hold my own child in my arms and know that their life was made possible because of my body. What a huge purpose our bodies can serve. Personally, I would rather have my body’s greatest accomplishment be that it brought life into this world and not that it had a six pack, wore a size four, or had 12% body fat. “
I am sitting here reading the entries in this blog thinking that they could be my own thoughts, especially since like Joy; I just gave birth to a baby boy. But I am perplexed…
I work with and am friends with both Tiffany and Joy and have always seen them as two of the most beautiful people I know. I mean that both literally and figuratively. And speaking of figures, have you seen theirs???? It proves to me that beauty is all about perspective. I can’t imagine either one of these women obsessing over their looks or bodies. How could they, when they are perfect in my eyes. What could they possibly improve upon? Why do they not see it?
Joy and I gave birth two weeks apart, and unlike Joy, whose 23 year old body has not only bounced back to perfection, she has lost extra pounds and looks svelte and thin. If I didn’t know her and saw her walking down the street, I would swear she was the nanny. As there is no way someone that looks that good has a 3 month old baby…except Joy.
Or Tiffany, who even when she says she is “heavy” still blows me away with her strong, sexy figure. And I think “WOW” if I had her body, her self control…
It amazes me to know that these women whose bodies I dream about are thinking the same things that I am… That this is something that every woman, no matter how confident or beautiful wrestles with on a daily basis. Which leads me back to my point…beauty is about perspective or in the so-called eye of the beholder.
I am currently struggling with feeling like I am not in my own body. Heck, I haven’t been for the last year with being pregnant and giving birth. But now I look back to pictures of me pre-pregnancy (when I was at my heaviest weight and very depressed about it) and I think that I looked really good. I mean the stomach I thought was fat was actually flat, I had very little flaws and yet picked myself apart in the mirror every single day.
I now know, as I stand in front of the mirror with all of my stretch marks, and “baby weight” on my not-so-bouncing-back 30 year old body and realize that I was pretty darn beautiful. Does this mean that we will always look backwards and think it wasn’t so bad? Can’t we apply our perspective to the present? Or are we doomed to only look in the mirror and see reflections of our flaws?
[...] January 11, 2009 Submitted on 2009/01/08 at 9:27pm [...]