Why I’m Not Wearing Underwear

So this whole C-section business is very misrepresented.

Also the whole twin pregnancy situation.

Here’s the situation. I’ve lost weight since giving birth twenty-two months ago. But there remains a couple things that people don’t tell you about before a C-Section. 1- a large scar and 2- a pooch. In my case a large pooch. A pooch my friends is stretched out skin and likely fat now, that may never go back into where it used to be. I did not have a six pack pre-baby but I could wear button jeans in a size 10. That was my happy slim size. I am 5’7″ and when I was at my healthiest in terms of diet and exercise it was a comfortable size 10. Now I think of a size 10 as some far off dream land that I will never see again.

Because even if I get pants in my “size” they don’t quite make it around the pooch and then they kind of push in on my scar, and the whole thing is just freaking uncomfortable. Enter the world of “Mom” pants. I never knew why mom pants had elastic waistbands. I assumed it was because all mom’s got fat and lazy. Just kidding. Sort of. I didn’t realize that it was because mom’s have babies which leaves your body a fucking mess.

I discovered the world of stretchy pants. Because buttons just freaking hurt. When I voiced this to my friend, also a mom of twins, she said it took her six years to be able to wear jeans with buttons. SIX YEARS! Other mom’s I’ve talked to have said 2-6 years yes.

Now let’s talk about underwear. Today I went to put underwear on after a shower. I had recently purchased some new sets. Yes they are the right size. But if they go above the scar then they kind of roll down because of the freaking pooch and if they go below the pooch it hurts the scar and has a weird look of muffin-top-ish through my pants. So I tried on three pairs this morning after my shower. Becoming more and more upset with each pair. The last pair I actually put the pants on too and was like come on suck it up it’s fine it’s just underwear.

I felt it start to roll down the pooch under my pants…I started to cry. I went to pull down my pants to try on another pair, when I remembered my cotton pairs are down in the dryer, so with my pants at my knees I grabbed scissors in my drawer and cut off the offensive pair threw them in the wastebasket, stopped crying, said “Fuck this” and am now not wearing underwear.

The first year I breastfed. I had to keep a supply up for twins and my breastmilk supply would tank without carbs. So I had a really hard time the first year trying to lose because I had to eat so damn much to keep up the supply. Now I am into the second year. I am proud to say I am losing. I am exercising more, and I am eating much fewer carbs and more vegetables. I’ve probably dropped pant sizes but I refuse to try them on yet. I’m good with yoga pants and dressier yoga pants. My bras got bigger and my shirts pre-pregnancy are starting to fit again which is great. But it’s hard. I have a lot more respect for Mom’s who are overweight now than I ever did before.

Because I don’t feel good about myself, and I’m sure other mom’s with baby weight still hanging on also don’t feel good. It’s also really sucky to not be able to buy sexy underwear or just any underwear that’s not plain cotton from the maternity store for going on two years now. Our society praises the young thin and beautiful. But most women’s bodies have scars. We have stretch marks. We are thick. We have droopy boobs because of breastfeeding. We have pooches- some bigger than others- and that’s okay. We have dark circles under our eyes because let’s face it even when they aren’t babies they still don’t sleep or maybe that’s just mine.

Recently I went to work with my hair done, jewelry on, make-up done, and looking confident because I was wearing a pre-baby shirt. Two co-workers commented on how good I looked and I’m like- so this is how I used to look every day- what the fuck have I been rolling in looking like for the past twenty-two months? But then I was thinking, well probably looking like I was up all night with two babies. Walking out the door getting spit up on. Walking out the door without my make-up on or forgetting to brush my teeth. I learned fast as a mom to have double supplies- one set at home and one set at work.

I remember feeling like I should get a medal every morning walking into work when I first went back with twenty week old twins. It was a freaking miracle we all made it out the door in the morning.

I’m going about my fitness and health journey in my own way and in my own time. I’m trying not to pressure myself and just letting things happen. I’m trying to make healthy choices and I’m seeing the results.

But I’d support any mom who says fuck it and eats her bowl of ben & jerry’s every night because that’s her five minutes of heaven after a day and night of hell.

My point to this is that we as women and Mom’s should support each other. We also shouldn’t be trying to live up to this crazy ideal society places on us. I mean did you see George Clooney’s wife three months after giving birth to twins? I wanted to kill her. But I recognize that she clearly had a different journey than mine. I’m trying to respect that and not want to kill her. It’s hard.

Anyway. Any time you or your wife loses her mind over underwear or jeans or a bra or a shirt in a post-baby body. Just hug yourself or hug her and say we will get there. But if you have to cut the offensive piece of clothing off to feel good, then fucking do it.