Yesterday, my husband and I took Ember Eve in our pond. This meant I had to squeeze my pregnant body into a swimsuit and face reality: I’m bigger than I’d like to be. With two pregnancies in two years, I certainly don’t love the way I look. My legs and arms are heavy, and of course my stomach is growing each week. I no longer play sports, so I’m not outside getting brown in the sun. I exercise 5ish times a week and try my best to stay toned, but there’s only so much I can do. I gained about 30 pounds with Ember, but still…30 pounds on my short frame is a lot. I had not lost all the baby weight from Ember when I got pregnant with baby #2 (I still had 5ish lbs to lose), so I’m most likely going to be the heaviest I’ve ever been by the end of this pregnancy. I think about this sometimes, but I try not to let it bother me too much. A friend of mine who is in the exercise and health field told me something very important. She said, “don’t sacrifice fertility because you’re worried about weight. The weight will come off later.” She’s right (thank you, Carrie!). I don’t know how much longer I will be able to have kids, and sacrificing that for my appearance would be a mistake for me. 

I struggled into the swimsuit, which I had bought for my post-partum body not my pregnant body, so it was a wee bit tight, and threw my body onto a raft. I kinda felt like a whale out there at first, but the sun and the water and Ember Eve’s babbling drowned out those negative thoughts. My husband asked my brother-in-law to take some pictures, and I immediately thought, oh no, not in this swimsuit. I considered staying out of the pictures, but I have so few of us all together since I’m usually the one taking the pictures. I have tons of pictures of Ember Eve and many of her with Rob, but I have very few of Ember and me and even fewer of us as a family. So I paddled over and smiled for the photos, knowing I probably looked like a large white whale in a too-small suit.

Later, I looked at the pictures, and I cringed. Yikes. I’m pale from being inside or in the shade with my little redhead, and my body looks…well, pregnant. The raft forced my body into an awkward position, and my legs are smashed together, making them look even heavier than they are. My belly looks even more massive than it is, and the angle of my neck created a double-chin. I decided right then and there that enough was enough. Yesterday’s pictures are pretty unflattering. But you know what? Who the hell cares? I’ve spent way too long agonizing over how I look in pictures, and it’s dumb. A couple years ago, I let an unflattering picture ruin an entire weekend. I shake my head at that thought now.

The picture should remind me of the memory, not make me cringe because I don’t look so hot. I’m tired of worrying about my body looking a certain way. I’m tired of agonizing over calories or allowing food guilt to prevent me from enjoying my family. (I used a food/calorie app for much of Ember’s pregnancy, and it stressed me out more than it helped.) I’m strong and healthy overall, and my body works. It functions. It has been able to carry two kids so far, and I am certainly grateful for that. Ember doesn’t care what my thighs look like, or if I’m pale. But she does care if I’m moody or crying. Moving forward, I plan to stay as healthy as I can without driving myself insane. I want to enjoy life.

When I look back at the pictures we took yesterday, I want to remember how much Ember hated her life jacket, and how she kept stealing my husband’s beer (she refused the empty beer bottle and kept grabbing his full one!). I want to remember that we laughed and struggled to get her comfortable in her raft with her hat and life jacket. I don’t want to focus on my body and its pregnant state, so I’m not going to.

 I want to live and remember living and not worry about my body’s appearance. Pregnant or not, from now, I’m going to take the damn picture, and I’m going to post the damn picture so I can remember the good stuff.