the postpartum body

About This Photo

Aperture: f/1.8

Exposure: 1/60

Focal Length: 50mm

ISO: 200

Lens: 50mm f/1.4

Austen is nearly 4 months old now.

After all the amazing things my body has done -- two pregnancies and natural births, feeding and sustaining this little one with my body -- I still get stuck in a rut of thinking negatively about what I see in the mirror. I pinch my arms, jiggle my thighs, and squeeze the jelly on my stomach, displeased with what I see.

My husband is incredibly complementary. I wish I could sweep out my own thoughts of what I see reflected back to me and see myself the way he does.

I have a healthy diet and with the okay of my midwife, have been exercising regularly since Austen was 4 weeks old.

But this is beside the point. This isn't about needing diet and exercise tips, or needing to find effective tips for "banishing the mommy middle."

It's about how I think about what I see. It's about what I image for her. It's about tossing aside the world's lenses through which we view a woman's body, and learning to see it for the good thing that it is.

I need to be the one to image for my daughter how to think of herself in a healthy way -- to take care with her body with good nutrition and exercise, but not to pick it apart like I find myself doing, holding it up to the totally impossible, airbrushed "ideal" that will face her on the cover of glossy magazines, on the internet, in movies, and pretty much wherever she goes in the world. Lord knows she's going to have enough challenges with the messages the world will give her, telling her she's not good enough because she doesn't leave the house looking like she's been PhotoShopped.

The message I want her to get from me is that she is beautiful, no matter what. The message I want her to get from me is that the skin she's in is good and beautiful and exactly what it was meant to be.


Looking at her now, it kills me to think that she might ever not like what she sees when she looks at herself.

If I want her to know that, I've got to believe it of me first. I can't just tell her, then run back to the mirror to pinch and jiggle those places I identify as problems.

I must image right thinking about her body for her. I must learn to appreciate what I see, even if it doesn't conform to the world's (or my) ideal.

Sigh ... [deep breath] ... this is a start.

* * *

Lessons Learned or Affirmed:

• You can't beat black and white for post-processing shots that are poignant and deeply emotional. There is something about the loss of color that forces you to focus on the story being told or the message being communicated.
• The image can be just as much about what you don't see as what you do.