Wednesday, February 2, 2011

13 Weeks 2 Days - Boobs and Body Image

Pretty much anyone who has spent more than 10 seconds with me knows that I have always loved my boobs.  But now... wow, now I REALLY love them!!  Pregnant boobs are the BEST!

My boobs are, in fact, what alerted some small observant part of me to my pregnancy in the first place - they became sore and heavy and started growing...

The other day I bought my first D cups and I think I'm outgrowing those already!  I love it.



In fact, I love my whole body.  For the first time in my life.  Coming from someone who has spent most of her adolescent and adult life on a journey from trying to shrink her body away to learning to love it as it is - this is a significant statement.  I no longer stand in the mirror wishing my tiny belly away, sucking in to make myself look skinnier.... Suddenly, when I see my round little feminine belly, I feel proud, I feel joyous, I can't wait for it to be *bigger*!!


Ahhh.... preferably not *this* big....
 All those years of aiming for prepubescent skinniess suddenly seem childish... Now I feel like a woman - vibrant, alive and capable of carrying life - I have never felt so sexy and utterly in love with my body.  It feels like liberation, like suddenly I'm allowed to be just exactly as I am.



Of course, there are good moments and bad moments.  The niggling voice isn't completely silenced.  Especially at the moment, when I'm not big enough to look pregnant, but my waist becomes thicker and rounder every day.  But whenever the voice starts wanting to pipe up ("you know, most people probably just think you're fat..."), I just remind myself - there is a baby in there!  My growing body harbours the miracle of growing life.  And I put on a tight skirt and t-shirt and flaunt my wee belly proudly.



I am woman, hear me roar!

I hope that I can carry this forward past my pregnancy - that I will look upon flabby baby belly and stretchmarks and thick thighs, not with hatred and self-loathing, but with pride and affection, knowing that my imperfections are stamps that say "I am woman.  I nuture life."

In this world that displays androgenous stick figures as the pinnacle of all a woman should be, I want to run hands over soft hips and bask in the glow of my perfect imperfections, the miracle of this body I was blessed with.

Suddenly, who and how I am, is just exactly who and how I want to be.

13 weeks - grow, you beautiful belly, grow!


[NB: having Googled for photos for this post, I believe I am now scarred for life.  Just saying.]

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