I’m Not A Villain For Wanting My Pre-Baby Body Back—And Neither Are You

Four and half years ago I found myself head to head with a stark reality: I was woefully unprepared for pregnancy. Full of blissful, well-intentioned ignorance, I thought I was in for nine months of cute bump pics, nursery shopping, and fabulous hair. What I actually got was debilitating nausea, heartburn that could rival that of a fire-breathing dragon, and (maybe you see where this is going) significant weight gain. Now, I realize “significant” is subjective, so let me provide some numbers. By the end of my pregnancy, I had gained 60 pounds. Having weighed approximately 130 pounds pre-pregnancy, this was an almost 50 percent increase in body mass. My feet were swollen, my back ached, and turning from one sleeping position to another felt like a Herculean effort. Suffice it to say, I felt physically terrible. Sure, there was a baby in there. But I can promise you that baby didn’t come out weighing 60 pounds. On top of my physical strife, my mental health wasn’t much better off. In addition to the typical nerves most new moms experience, I was feeling emotionally crushed. As someone who’s always relied on fitness as a means of healthy stress relief, I was frustrated by my decreased range of motion and inability to do just about any cardio. And, as a woman who has always maintained a love for fashion, I was continuously discouraged by how few of my clothes fit. Maybe that sounds petty, but if you’re a fellow self-described fashion girlie, I know you’ll understand. I should probably also mention that I was pregnant during the on-start of the COVID-19 pandemic. My husband and I spent those nine months largely alone in our house, enduring the most brutal upstate New York winter in recent memory, and praying that whatever this new “norm” was we were living would go away sooner rather than later. I wanted to cry. Scratch that. I did cry. I cried a lot. I'm personally averse to taking antidepressants and was especially trying to take as few medications as possible while pregnant. I kept telling myself that pregnancy was a temporary phase, that I’d be able to get back in shape (and back into my clothes) after the baby was born—wouldn’t I? I took to the internet for reassurance. Boy, was that a mistake. Toxic Positivity, Postpartum Edition In search of personal essays and fitness advice that would give me hope for my physique post-baby, I was met instead with an onslaught of articles, blog posts, and forums all centered around two basic notions. The first: Pregnancy will change your body. And the second: These changes will be forever, so you should just learn to love them. While this might be a comforting notion to some, it was not by any means what I wanted to hear (er, read). I didn’t want to be told I’d likely always carry extra weight following the birth of my child or that my physical appearance would matter less after I became a mom. “No!” I screamed loudly within the confines of my own mind. “It still matters to me!” When I was eight months pregnant, watching my body take on a form that felt alien and lamenting over all of the beautiful clothes and shoes I had to pack away due to weight gain and swelling, I wanted to be told that this, too, would pass. I wanted someone to nonchalantly say, “Hey, it’s going to be alright. Lots of women get back in shape after they have babies.” While the very small percentage of my brain that wasn't being consumed by hormones remained rational and told me that, of course, I could lose the baby weight and get back into athletic shape, I didn’t always want to be my own coach. I wanted online forums full of women sharing inspiring fitness stories. I wanted blog articles that would tell me how many calories to consume to both support my postpartum body while also dropping the unnecessary body fat. Essentially, I wanted a narrative that would leave me feeling inspired, not one that told me I was a victim of circumstance. Because frankly, I just don’t accept that. While body positivity isn’t necessarily a toxic ideology in theory, in practice it does—IMHO— more harm than good . It personally made me feel out of control and destined to a reality I didn’t want to accept. And as it turns out, I didn’t have to. It’s OK to Want to Lose Weight After Kids—And I Know From Experience That It’s Possible Flash forward almost five years. Unlike the 26-year-old version of myself, I now realize that pregnancy is not a life sentence for being overweight and that prime physical fitness after kids is in fact a possibility. I’ve since carried and delivered two beautiful, healthy children and am proud to share that—both times—I lost all of the weight and then some. Take that, internet! Even now, holding the viewpoints that I do, it’s almost uncomfortable writing about my postpartum weight loss . As women, we’ve been taught to demonize the topic. It’s become taboo. As if wanting a healthy BMI is an inherently bad thing. That pursuing such a thing makes you fat phobic or, at the very least, very out of touch with “body positivity” as it’s been positioned . But despite what modern culture would like us to believe, there are still plenty of us out there who consider having a healthy weight a priority life goal. And—as you’ve probably guessed—I just don’t believe that that’s a bad thing. Aesthetics aside, it's common knowledge that maintaining a healthy weight comes with many advantages . It grants you more energy and makes you less likely to develop a slough of chronic diseases. And don’t our children deserve that? After my son was born, I lost 60 lbs. After my daughter, 55. Currently pregnant with baby number three, I’m realizing that in spite of my healthy pregnancy habits I’m just prone to “above average” weight gain when expecting. I’ve accepted that that’s OK because I now know there is light at the end of the tunnel. While I do not in any way condone “bounce back” culture , I do think we need to collectively start supporting moms on their health journeys post-baby. And that includes so much more than just telling them, “Love your body.” Yes, of course, love your body. But also embrace the power and beauty that comes with loving that body through exercise, healthful foods, and the recognition that we can influence our own health and happiness. Moms Can Do Anything There is no greater gift than that of the ability to create, carry, and deliver life. It is the most beautiful experience and one I am grateful for every single day. If you’re a mom, you know that nothing compares. But for all the women who may be out there, struggling with weight gain and retention, body image, and the like, I’d just like to take a moment to say, “It is OK. You are OK.” Wanting to look and feel your best doesn’t make you shallow. It doesn’t make you ungrateful for your child(ren). It doesn’t make you fat-phobic, narcissistic, self-centered, materialistic, or any of the other hateful labels our modern culture will try and throw at you. So let me tell you something else the naysayers won’t: You can absolutely, 100%, without a shadow of a doubt have the body you want after having children. Read that again. You. Can. Do it. You carried a baby inside your body. You brought life into this world. You are capable of absolutely anything. Weight loss and muscle gain pale in the enormity of what you have already accomplished. For the Women Who are Currently in the Postpartum Trenches In those moments of doubt, remember this: You deserve to wake up in the morning feeling confident, radiant, and in control of your own wellness. To enjoy all the clothes you loved pre-pregnancy. To live a long, healthy, big, beautiful life with your children in the postpartum body of your choosing. You deserve more than the health journey our culture has prescribed you to. You deserve it and you can obtain it. I’m rooting for you.