The Post Baby Bump

         Hi! It's the third Thursday blog hop for Hearts at Home. Welcome to my blog! Today's topic is "No More Perfect Bodies". I wrote all about my insecurities about my body during pregnancy in a post a couple months back called "Your So Vein". I'm now 7 weeks out from having a new baby. I loved reading Jill Savage's take on "No More Perfect Bodies". She talks about how society embraces the pregnancy bump, but they also need to embrace the post-pregnancy bump. I've watched my body slowly go back to more of it's former self over the past few weeks; but honestly, I never am quite satisfied.  I asked my hubby when trying on clothes this past Friday if a top made me look "fat". He assured me that it looked great (and thankfully, he always tells the truth in that area...sometimes it even stings a bit). Still, it's been almost a week, and although I've enjoyed wearing the other clothes I bought that evening, I'm still yet to pull it out for fear that maybe he was wrong, or maybe I've had one too many cookies this past week and my "bump" is past what that shirt can handle. I'm always conscious of myself. I've always been that way. I even find myself  wondering what my midsection looks like when I'm sitting down in a group or at the swimming pool. I find myself putting my arms around my waist to disguise what people see. When people comment how great I look post-baby, I feel pressure to maintain that. If they don't comment, I think maybe I don't look good anymore. It like I can't win. I don't think I obsess over this, but I honestly am tempted every day with thoughts to loathe what God has so graciously given me.
        My mom didn't allow me to play with Barbies growing up because she thought they would give me a distorted self image. Well, that didn't work because I rarely remember enjoying how I looked. I've always loathed my legs (my brother used to call me "thunder thighs"), and that is the primary reason that I started running faithfully...I liked the way my legs looked for once. (I've now found what a difference it makes in my attitide and fatigue level, and now I'm hooked for other than liking my legs) I look back now at pictures of me in high school and think how perfect I looked. Someday, I'll probably look back at me in my 30's and think the same thing. There is such a temptations to want more and to never be content.  The women that are older than me that I truly admire for their beauty are not perfect,  but exude a confidence despite their imperfections. So what if they have crows feet? Their smiles light up their eyes. So what if I have age spots? I'm probably more aware of them then anyone else is (except maybe my two year old who daily scrutinizes my face and points to my spots asking me, "What's that? Is it an owie?").
       The fact is that God created me in my mother's womb and saw that "it was good". To despise what He has made me to be is like telling the Master of the universe that He messed up in His creation...that He is somehow wrong. God is perfect. I am not. The sooner that I can appreciate this fact the sooner that I can accept my imperfections and move on to what God has really called me to do...to love others and be His hands and feet. He thinks I'm beautiful post-baby bump and all.

What do you struggle with? I'd love to hear. Please share it below.

Click here to read more blogs in the blog hop.