You're So Vain

I'm assuming you're as sick of hearing about Jon and Kate as I am, but I was looking for quick before/after pictures. I'm not even interested in the drama that surrounds them, but I can't help but be intrigued by Kate's tummy. I have never had a strong opinion either way regarding plastic surgery. I suppose part of me is wary that it perpetuates issues of body image in young girls. Yet I am a strong believer that until I've walked in your shoes...who am I to say what's up? We all come to the table with unique circumstances and reasons for doing things. One woman's 'boob job' may actually be a breast reduction for health reasons. The next gal may choose to go bigger or smaller because of the attention (or lack there of) she gets from men. All this to say, I never really cared about cosmetic surgery because it didn't affect me. I don't have a perfect body, but I'm confident in who I am. I'm fine with how I look. Mostly.

I was fortunate to carry Max and Ella to 36 weeks. I certainly looked big, but didn't actually gain all that much weight in pounds. I was at my heaviest weight before I got pregnant. I like to blame it on the fertility hormones I was shooting up, but I'm thinking excessive pizza and hefeweizen didn't help things. Regardless, I was shocked when I stepped on the scale at the babies two week check up and- what?! I had lost all the weight. Mind you, initially I was so overwhelmed with two babies that I didn't do a whole lot of eating or sleeping. But to lose the weight that quickly? Sweet. Never in my life have I been able to loose weight without serious persistence. Even then, I end up on a fad diet and gain it all back. Now, I am actually 20 pounds thinner than before I got pregnant. I know, right? I should be stoked. No wonder women breast feed their kids until they're five. (Actually, please have an intervention if I'm still nursing and the babies are talking to me).

My point here is that I'm feeling well, looking better, and I'm still not satisfied. So I tell myself, 'you're so vain.' Even though my body looks better in clothes, underneath is another story. Part of me is proud of my jiggly skin. I've earned these stretch marks. Look what my body did! It was a vestal for my miracle babies. This body grew and delivered life! Two lives! It's not about me anymore, this is part of my sacrifice in motherhood.

Then there's the other me. Proud of my babies and what I've done, but also mourning the loss of my body. To my husband's credit, he thinks I'm beautiful it doesn't bother him. But this disappointment it about me. I expected a few stretch marks and saggy boobies, but my tummy is destroyed. I knew it was bad when I asked my OBGYN (who I LOVE by the way) if it would ever go back. The sympathetic look he gave said it all. I am a mother now, but I'm also a woman. I want to feel attractive and not cringe every time my hand runs over my stomach.

So I find myself with my own variation of Kate's before picture, which I'm not nearly brave enough to post. It started with curiosity that medicine could actually pull off this transformation. Seriously, check out the after picture. Amazing! Then my mind went from observing to joking contemplation. You know, 'oh yeah, I'll just get a tummy tuck.' Ha ha. Ha. Hmmm. Really? Could I? Plastic surgery? Spend my family's money on something so selfish? No. At least, not now.

I guess I'm just feeling like a girl, wanting to feel pretty. In the meantime, I'll just pass by the trashy mags and think to myself, damn Kate looks good.