Learning to Adjust

I'm starting this post with one of my least favorite photos from this week's session. Let me explain why.

At 26 weeks, my body is officially really starting to change. My adoring and supportive husband still swears it just looks like I'm smuggling a melon or wearing a pillow, but I can see the subtle differences that are occurring daily. When I walk on the treadmill in the afternoon, there's more roundness to my cheeks and chin. As my bump expands, even my maternity shirts are starting to slide up over it throughout the day, leading to an unattractive bulge around my waist. When I look in the mirror, I see that my rear is starting to counterbalance my belly a bit more than it has been. Even my hair--in spite of a wonderful stylist who I love--no longer feels like it can put itself in any kind of remotely attractive hairstyle.

If you've read this blog or know me personally, you know that weight and body image have long been struggles for me--and they're struggles I anticipated would rear their ugly heads when I was pregnant one day. If anything, it's only surprising they've taken until now to really consume my thoughts on a daily basis. Because I knew this day would come, I've tried to prepare for it, tried to remind myself that I should be proud--not disappointed--that my body is growing in remarkable ways, tried to remember the long journey to get to this point. But I'm also human. And the human part of me is having a tough time, folks.

So, we're back to the picture at the start of this post--and I'll add the two above (the one on the left is when Jeff told me to wave at Mr. Crab!). They're far from my favorite pictures that Jeff took (actually, if I'm honest, I don't even have a favorite one that he took--I find myself judging every single one with a critical eye), but they're who I really am right now--who I'm trying to learn to embrace being, no matter how hard it is to look in a mirror or at a photo.

Here's what I know: that little girl wiggling in my belly, causing all these changes? She's beautiful. And she's always going to be beautiful and perfect in the eyes of her mommy and daddy, and she needs a mommy who truly believes that she's beautiful, too. If that's not motivation to work past this tough stage, I don't know what could be.

So, for you--my sweet, beautiful, little Button--I will learn to find beauty in this new body.