A letter to you, postpartum Mama.
BY KATIE DrobiNA
Katie Drobina is an author, publisher, and social worker, who resides with her steadfast husband and adventuresome children wherever her husband’s work sends them. Motherhood echoed the return of her passion for writing through her thoughtful blogging and penning of her experiences with the hope that, through her written works, readers feel and experience the world around them again, and are reinvigorated with their own passions. Katie can be found sharing her thoughts at https://krdrobina.wixsite.com/mysite.
In our culture, the pervasive conversation surrounding postpartum has not been a kind or sensitive one. New mothers are bombarded with phrases like, “get your body back” and “you’ll never be the same again.”
It is not surprising that postpartum body acceptance is a major narrative in mental health following delivery. Below you’ll find the letter I wish someone had written to me after laboring my first, second, and third babies into the world.
These are the words we should be speaking into mothers following one of the most magnificent events in which nature allows us to participate. It is my hope you read these words, feel them in your soul, and pass them on to the next.
Dear beautiful you,
Have you thought about that word recently? Beautiful. I know that you’re feeling completely exhausted, overwhelmed, and broken. In truth, the furthest thing from your mind is how beautiful you are; because, quite frankly, you don’t feel anything like the perceived definition of beauty.
Your new mama heart is anxious and restless, as all thoughts and concerns focus on the tiny human you just ushered into the world. You are depleted of all emotion, energy, time, and notion of self. You steal a minute away to use the restroom alone (in what has surely turned into a production of care and maintenance that no one prepared you for post-delivery) when you see her.
Her. Who is she? Her unwashed hair is tied back quickly, without care but for good purpose. She’s trying to remember to brush her teeth and drink enough water and eat nourishing foods, but the nights turn into days and back into nights with little rhythm. She grabs the leftover skin and muscle that are stretched and loose in foreign places and sighs. Her eyes are heavy and weepy as she looks at her reflection. “Beautiful? No,” she whispers back to her.
Oh! Dear beautiful you, stop. Breathe. Lend me your mind and soul for a moment. Go back to that mirror, beautiful, and see what I see. There, there is the girl who became a woman. She watched as her body grew beyond what she thought was humanly possible; and as it grew, so, too, did her heart. What a pure and gracious gift to have been a participant in the miracle of carrying created life to its birth! Do you see her? She is the one who quietly, in the recesses of her heart, learned what it was like to give over self for someone else. She is the one who crazily threw her whole life into the ring for a person she had never met but would love fiercely and selflessly for the rest of her life.
Beautiful one, I hear the fear in your soul that perpetuates your thoughts; “Your body will never be the same. You will never look like you did before?” It echoes throughout. I know that fear well, and I know that it does nothing but bring darkness and shame where they are not welcome.
Can I share some raw truth with you? Beautiful you, your body will never be the same. Along with the millions of women who went before you and will go after you, I bear witness to this. Our bodies cannot ever be the same, because they have been forever marked as life givers. They are the tapestries of new life, each telling unique stories. The loose skin manifests how we carried creation closer to our hearts than any other. The tiger stripes which celebrate the stretching of body and mind and soul like architectural masterpieces renowned for time. The honor that comes with assisting in the creation of and sustaining of generations acts like a legacy to those not yet a part of the journey. Your body will never be the same.
But, beautiful you, do not subscribe to what the world and culture tell you about your body - how it should look, when it should look, how to make it look, why it doesn’t look, and the list could be expanded for pages. Remember, the world does not subscribe to true beauty, but rather the utility and purpose it can take from you.
Sadly, you may also experience well-meaning people who perpetuate this worldly conversation because it is the only narrative they’ve known. Though they mean well, their words sting a little longer and pierce the parts of your soul still trying to heal. Please, beautiful you, please don’t take it to heart. Instead, remember your body is a precious temple, and everything that happened within it, a designed gift. Treat it as such. Be kind to it, take care of it, and celebrate it even when the outside world says it’s not enough.
It has taken me many moons to appreciate this body, the one I’ve been given. To thank it for all of the unique and life-giving things it has done and continues to do. Dear one, even still in my thanking, I hear the narrative that has been built up over the years say to me, “Broken. Ruined. Damaged. Grotesque. Never the same.” Those words bombard her in the most vulnerable of times if I don’t guard my mind and soul. When those words creep in, I grip the loose skin, which stretched to house the ones most dear to my heart, and I say to her, “Never the same. No. Never the same. But more complete, more whole, more wonderful.”
More complete, more whole, more wonderful is my mantra! And, beautiful you, I hope we will shout this together from the highest points, because the future needs to know the power, the magnitude, the life-force of these bodies. More complete, more whole, more wonderful, more beautiful!