For most of my life, I was a skinny little thing. I had toothpick legs, invisible hips, and was a card-carrying member of the “Itty Bitty Titty Committee.” So when I got pregnant with my daughter during the last month of my twenties, I definitely wasn’t prepared for the voluptuousness that was waiting for me at the end of my nine-month journey.
It took about five months before I needed to wear maternity clothes, and by then the new swell of my breasts was totally worth trading in my skinny jeans for elastic-waisted pants. I had cleavage! I had hips! I had booty! But unfortunately, those newfound curves wouldn’t last.
At the time, I had no idea there was even a risk of losing them, and if I would have known, there is one thing I am absolutely certain of: I would have taken more naked selfies.
After my daughter was born and I lost the big belly, my curves took a turn. I went from being a skinny lady who finally had some meat on her bones thanks to pregnancy to a — dare I say it? — bombshell. I was a certified hottie! At least, that’s how I felt inside.
The plump boobs and soft feminine belly and butt weren’t even the hottest parts of me, though. It was the newfound confidence I had about my body and the way I looked that really took me over the edge.
I felt strong. I felt womanly. I felt powerful.
My body had brought forth new life. Not only that, but as I nursed my daughter every day for 17 months, I was constantly reminded of how amazing my body was, as it continued to provide essential nutrition to her. And BONUS: I suddenly looked amazing in v-neck shirts. (No wonder I felt like Superwoman!)
But the selfies … why didn’t I take more? Why didn’t I pause to capture this amazingness?
The thing is, no one warned me that after I stopped nursing, those D cups I had gotten used to would suddenly deflate, and not return back to my normal A cups. Instead, they became something even smaller than that.
And not one person informed me that my soft, but firm belly would need crunches in order to maintain the femininity without the flab. (Why didn’t anyone tell me to take more naked selfies?!)
If I would have known then what I know now, instead of taking 300+ photos of a sleeping newborn in the same exact position, I would have devoted at least half of my camera roll to memorialize my new mom body. There would have been selfies of me in the bathroom, mirror fully nude with alluring eyes and my thick, healthy, new mom hair. Maybe I’d even pull a Kim K. and share it on Instagram for the world to see (with appropriately placed censor bars, of course).
Maybe I’d even switch up the hashtags sometimes: #NewMom or #MomBod or, hey, maybe I’d even double them up: #NewMom #MomBod. If I was feeling particularly “Wow, I look good and people need to see me” mood, I might even go full-throttle with the hashtags: #NewMom #MomBod #HotMama #ThisIsMotherhood #GotMilk.
If I’d have known those curves were going to be so short lived, I would have set up an exotic photo shoot. Me. Naked. On a Beach. Naturally, the photo would be a shot of my curvaceous body, silhouetted by a setting sun as I stand looking at the rolling waves. Of course.
I didn’t know, though; so instead of taking confident naked selfies of those glorious days of total body acceptance, all I have are a few shots where my boobs are accidentally almost falling out of my shirt as I lean down to pick up my new baby.
But I’ll cherish those photos forever.
So ladies, if you’re pregnant now or just became a new mom, let me be the one to tell you: Take those naked selfies, and take them proudly. Own that new body of yours — which may be a little fuller in places that you’re not used to, but is nonetheless beautiful and healthy and truly amazing for what it can accomplish.
Trust me; one day you’ll look back and be glad you did.