Is it possible to be completely happily pregnant and beach body ready? And BTW, that ‘BBR’ term is so very, very stupid…
I’m not about to write how the idea of going on a beach filled me with terror but it did make me think about what I was going to wear and brought up thoughts about myself I have not had in a while.
The reason for this is that I am currently 5 months pregnant with a rather large bump (clearly second time around it’s just filling in the space from No. 1 haha). I’m also incredibly tight-fisted which means I ain’t about to fork out money for a maternity swimsuit, which really only leaves me with a bikini.
My first thought, when I realised this, was “can I get away with it? Will I feel ok prancing around in something so tiny when I am clearly not at my smallest?”
My second thought was how do I want Bear to perceive me? As a woman who sits on the beach fully clothed because she’s ashamed of how she looks or a woman who wears a bikini because, well, why the hell not?!
And there it is, the reason for me writing this blog, with those two thoughts I realised how far I’d come in my own attitude about my body.
As I teenager and a young adult in my 20s, I struggled a lot with how I saw myself, constantly feeling like the fat friend who couldn’t get a boyfriend, or couldn’t wear the clothes she wanted because of her big hips and bulgy tummy.
I was always a little quirky with my clothes but never completely comfortable in my own skin. I would wear bikinis on holiday but sucked in my tummy or hid my rolls with a towel when I sat down especially when hanging out with gorgeous Spanish boys.
Having two very beautiful sisters, one taller and slimmer, the other petite and exotic looking, I gave myself the title of middle frumpy one and was constantly in competition with them to look better (unbeknownst to them I might add).
Going out on family dos always filled with horror and despair to try and find the right outfit that would help me feel remotely cool between the two of them. I hated it.
Looking back I wasn’t ever what you would call overweight or deprived of male attention; I had my fair share of ‘snogs’ and fancy men but I hated looking in the mirror.
As I got older those thoughts did get better, I met a man (who became my husband) who made me feel beautiful and had friendships where I felt comfortable being who I was, body and all. But the biggest change for me was pregnancy.
The knowledge that my body could not only create another tiny human but keep it alive and bring it safely into the world was something spectacular and I felt empowered.
I embraced my pregnant body and was fascinated watching it grow, month by month. When he was born I suddenly felt a sense of responsibility to him, to not only provide him with his own confidence and nurture that but to show him what a strong woman looks like on the inside as well as the outside.
To not be disgusted by a woman’s tummy whether it be rounded or flat but to embrace the curves and all that it may encompass.
As Bear has grown so has my confidence. I no longer look at myself and see my bulgy tummy and my large hips, I see a strong and beautiful woman who has provided life and now creates another to join our small family.
The fact that this empowerment has come from me, from within, makes it all the more wonderful. At the end of the day no matter how many people you have to tell you how amazing and beautiful you are, if you don’t see it yourself it will never ring completely true.
So, as I stepped out on the beach in my two-piece I realised how far I’d come. I no longer cared about spying women who looked better than me but enjoyed watching my son and husband jump waves and build sand castles, with the odd lookout for fellow pregnant Mummas to give a nod in solidarity.
One little side note though, I did obviously send photos of me in the bikini to my fellow Mumma mates before purchasing, because even the strongest of women need a little boost from the sisterhood 😉
This article has been written by a guest, all thoughts and opinions remain the authors own and do not necessarily reflect the sentiments of Kiki Blah-Blah.
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