How Breastfeeding Helped Me To Love My Body

I have finally decided to be happy about my body. Just like that. The decision came suddenly, as I was getting ready to step into my shower late last night. I was looking at my body in the mirror, do you do that too? With a critical eye, I let my eyes roam over my post-major weight loss body. I took in my deflated breasts. The extra folds of fat "fabric" on my belly.I even jiggled my hanging forearm skin just for the fun of it. Finally, my eyes locked with the Tracie in the mirror and I smiled.

I didn't care about it. I just did not care about the hanging skin at all. It's mine. I earned it. Maybe in the future there will be some cosmetic surgery, perhaps for my arms, but at this point, I'm happy with my body. I went down Memory Lane, heck, it was late, I had all the time in the world.

This body bore three children, via three C-sections. The first pregnancy, Eeny, left me in a coma for a little while after I suddenly, unexpectedly suffered two grand mal seizures back to back. It was Eclampsia All my major organs failed, and I coded right there in the hospital. My body healed, and I eventually was well enough to hold my baby boy, even successfully breastfeeding him for close to 3 years. 

My body nourished my preemie son.

Meeny is our IUD baby. I was birth controlled up! Poppa Stoppa on full effect. Meeny surprised us all and  made his appearance. We weren't ready for him, we hadn't prepared for him, we had no reason to expect he was on his way. Yet, my body, IUD and all, supported his growth. Against amazing odds, he thrived inside, getting what he needed, and was pulled into this world full term, 7 lbs and 6 oz. I immediately put him to the breast. Meeny and I enjoyed our nursing relationship for 2 years. 

This body grew a baby with no help from me. 

Miney was my best pregnancy. Everything about her was perfect. From the moment of inception, to finding out she was a girl, all the way through to the first baby shower ever thrown for me, amazing.  My prenatal care was on point, I loved my midwife, Sue Paperas. She supported my breastfeeding right from the beginning. Even when on the operating table and the team was unsure of how to accomplish my wish to nurse right on the table, my support team fought for me. Moe held my little girl to my breast for an entire 23 minutes, while she nuzzled and suckled. 

My body is amazing.

A couple of months afterward, I suffered gall stones and needed an emergency surgery. With a Medela hospital grade pump, I continued to nurse my daughter, me and only me. When I went away to Albany for training, a whole week, I pumped in my hotel room every 2-3 hours. I brought back bricks of frozen milk, packed tightly in the cooler I had to buy just for the purpose of bringing it home. 

 Miney is still nursing, but she has lost the breasts she's used to. She complained early on, but soon realized that my body still produced the milk she wanted.       

So, now, when I look at this fabric of skin across my abdomen, the draping of flesh on my thighs, my flappy arms and my flat, deflated breasts, I feel kind of sad.

Sad because this body, this amazing body, at 284 pounds, has done some spectacular things, and look at it now. How can I hate it? How could I betray this body, this vehicle that has brought me through so much? I am loyal to this body. I've only signed up for one. I love my body.

So, no. it doesn't bother me at all.

Question:
How do you feel about cosmetic surgery after weight loss? Let loose and snitch in the comments section!  

(And yes, this is the second time I'm talking about hanging skin in 2 weeks, it's where I'm at. Deal with it!)