Pregnancy, Labour and Birth: The Beautiful Truth

Pregnancy, Labour & Birth: The Ugly Beautiful Truth

This is Alfie and me.  My smile is not staged.
I am genuinely happy, words cannot begin to express how much.

I haven’t always been happy though especially when it comes to having my photograph taken.  In the past I was extremely “vain” when having my photo taken.  By vain, I don’t mean I thought I was gorgeous because I didn’t and don’t.  I was vain in I wouldn’t have a photo taken with my glasses on and to have a photo taken without makeup would be mortal sin!  The photos below aren’t airbrushed or touched up in anyway – one of the reasons I love working with Adele at Blue Lights Photography.

Before we get to the nitty gritty, I should fill you in a little on how I was BEFORE I got pregnant, it may help you to understand my story and in turn me, a little better.  I was never a confident child probably due to being bullied throughout my life for one reason or another.  One of the main reasons I was bullied was my size.  I have always been small, skinny, petite etc whatever you want to call it, people didn’t like it.  I was bullied because I was skinny.  I was bullied because I was flat chested.  I was bullied because I had spots [and I don’t even mean lots of spots!]

 At a very young age I decided I wanted a boob job and at the very young age of 20 I got my wish!  I had a breast augmentation – my surgeon was extremely professional and said that due to my small frame he wouldn’t go any larger than a C cup and if I didn’t like it I had to go elsewhere.  I only wanted a C cup anyway – I wanted to look normal, like a woman without having to use chicken fillets.  You see by flat chested I mean completely flat.  You could have ironed a t-shirt on my chest!  The boob job gave me instant confidence.  I was literally a new woman!  Now, I’m not saying plastic surgery is the answer to all body hang ups because it really isn’t and although I was very young I had thought long and hard about my decision.  It was painful and it wasn’t easy but for me, it was worth it.

With my new found confidence I was approached at work (at the time I worked in a gym) by Adele (Blue Lights Photography) and asked if I’d like to model for her and another photographer to get some practice shots in.  In my underwear.  Now, pre boob job Amy would have ran a mile.  Pre boob job Amy probably wouldn’t have had the confidence to even talk to Adele about anything let alone underwear shots!  However, this wasn’t pre boob job Amy this was the new Amy with new found confidence and consequently a new found friend!  We did the shoot, all extremely professional and tasteful shots and my confidence rose some more.  Funnily enough, this is how I met my husband Alan.  He knew Adele who showed him her work in their local pub where Adele worked part time.  Her work was of me.  He wanted to meet me.  I went to the pub and the rest as they say is history.  It’s a far better story than that but I’ll save that for another post.

After my first time in a studio, I became addicted to not modelling as such but the confidence in my body.  Wherever I was I walked with my head held high, confident and often strutting my stuff!  The photos were evidence that I looked good.  So I felt good.  Now I must remind you none of the photos were touched with an air brush as Adele doesn’t believe in airbrushing.  It’s simply not natural and natural is beautiful.  The photos showed my confidence.  I’m no Kate Moss, Angelina Jolie or Kate Middletons fit sister Pipa but there’s nowt more gorgeous than a woman with confidence in herself.  And believe me, I had confidence in myself:

Photos of me in shoots pre pregnancy.

So as I am sure you will agree, I must have had some confidence when having some of those photos taken given the lack of clothing!  Now imagine how I felt when I got pregnant. OK so I was over the moon about being pregnant but it never occurred to me how I’d feel about my pregnant body.  Some women are extremely lucky and their skin is perfect, they have lovely nails and hair and they get the pregnancy “glow” we all hear about.  Not me.  Oh no! I had everything opposite!  My normally very nice nails became brittle and broken.  My hair became greasy and lifeless.  And my skin was dry and dull.  I was hardly the picture of a glowing woman.  Well, that’s my opinion other people said I was “glowing” and I looked “well”.  I never believed them until now, looking back on it.  I was worried about stretch marks most of all because I was so slim, I was bound to get them right?  I bought every lotion and potion going to help prevent stretch marks.  Varicose veins were another worry – who wants blue veins all over their legs?  I didn’t particularly take well to gaining weight either.  All of the above are pretty much inevitable and unavoidable [unless you’re a) a celeb or b) dead lucky!] so why on earth was I so worried?  I had got my wish, I was having a baby!  You’d have thought the struggle we had getting pregnant would have put things into perspective for me but it didn’t.  Outwardly I didn’t always admit to not being happy about my pregnancy body but inside I was devastated.

I remember seeing my stretch marks for the very first time.  It was Alan who pointed them out which probably didn’t help matters but I was devastated.  They were on my legs and bum and were pretty obvious.  I think after seeing these I moisturised with all my lotions and potions three times a day!  I didn’t have any stretch mark on my pregnant belly which was quite surprising considering the size of my bump!

35wk +4

When Alfie was born after the difficult labour I didn’t have time to worry about how I looked but it was still in the back of my mind.  I was scared to see my post pregnancy body.  Would my belly be floppy?  Would my stretch marks be worse?  Would I look completely rough and unattractive?  Oh my poor husband, he’ll be so embarrassed to be seen with me looking such a mess, I often thought.  I remember being in the bath straight after having Alfie and I saw myself naked.  How I looked never crossed my mind although at first I put this down to not feeling well and being exhausted.  My boobs had gotten slightly bigger through pregnancy [sods law eh!] and I was lucky in that I had a boob job so knew after breastfeeding they wouldn’t sag down to my knees completely although I was aware they may move a little further south.  I could cope with this so when I was breastfeeding Alfie I didn’t mind.

When my mum first saw me in the hospital I was stood up and she told me I still looked pregnant!  My dad asked me if I’d had my baby or was he still in there?  Baring in mind, I’m not at all close to my parents but these comments stung badly.  I knew they were both used to seeing me either really skinny or really pregnant but to say these things to me really shot my confidence.  Coming home, I hid from Alan and any mirrors when I got undressed.  If Alfie and I were having some skin to skin I had a dressing gown wrapped around me and then moved it once Alan’s eyes were anywhere but on me.  When he helped me get in the bath with Alfie, I made sure he was only in the bathroom long enough to pass Alfie to me.  Once Alfie was on me, I didn’t mind Alan staying in the bathroom because Alfie’s little body hid all my nastiness.

I was under no illusions that I wouldn’t get into my pre pregnancy clothes straight after his birth or I didn’t think I was but trying my favourite jeans on for the first time and them not fitting me.  I cried.  I had never imagined I’d not get into them.  The thought never crossed my mind so when I didn’t fit into them it threw me and made me concentrate more and more on the things pregnancy had done to me that I didn’t like.

Alfie is 7 weeks old today and a couple of weeks ago something happened whilst I was trying to breastfeed Alfie [see previous posts about restarting breastfeeding] I stripped off my top and bra and took him off of Alan.  Just like that.  No dressing gown, no breastfeeding top just me and my bare body [I had jeans on]  Now whilst I don’t think I completely rocked the builder chic look – I didn’t care.  My baby needed feeding and I was going to feed him.  How I looked didn’t come into it.  My baby loved me regardless of the lack of make up, obvious stretch marks and scruffy bottom half of clothing.  What’s more, so did my husband.  The way Alan looked at me as I was cuddling Alfie hit me like a ton of bricks.  He was a proud daddy and husband.  He always thanked me for giving him Alfie but it never really clicked properly.  He was entirely happy and so was I.

Now at 7 weeks old I don’t care about my stretch marks or flabby belly or anything else other than my baby.  I’m not saying I don’t care how I look because I do.  I like to wear nice clothes and I like to put a bit of make up on [when I get chance] and if it all gets ruined by baby sick or whatever else so what?  It’s part of the job.  Baby sick is like a badge showing you’re a mummy and I wear mine with pride and that’s how I have come to see and feel about my stretch marks, belly and generally my post pregnancy body.  Without these marks or imperfections I wouldn’t have my baby boy and I wouldn’t change having him for the world.  They are my mummy marks and I am proud to have them!  And to prove it here are my post pregnancy pictures, courtesy of Adele at Blue Lights Photography:

The naked truth: My scars from previous ops were stretched as was my belly button.

Yummy mummy: whatever I’m wearing I feel good because I’m happy in myself and that’s down to my gorgeous boy Alfie.

The baby weight: My favourite jeans no longer fit me but it’s fine, I’ll just buy more!

The conclusion of my blog post? 

Being a mummy is by far the best feeling in the world bar none and I am proud to be a mummy therefore I am proud of the body that conceived, carried, birthed and nurtures him.

Pregnancy, labour and birth: The Very Beautiful Truth

Special thanks to Adele at Blue Lights Photography for the wonderful photos and supporting my need for doing the blog post.