allAbout 29 years ago, I stole my mother's breast. At least that's the story my sister and I have been told since we were old enough to understand that we could be at fault. Her breasts couldn't stop us from being born, and we would regularly remind her that we had “ruined” her breasts. Above all, it was me. My sister and I both breastfed, but I was the only one who developed the habit of self-soothing by grabbing my mother's nipples like a nipple thief. I rolled it between my fingers and fell asleep, and when the nipple was no longer with me, I replaced it with my father's earlobe. And when my father could no longer stand the pinching of his ears, I was given a rag doll with a round nose. (Her name was Cathy, and I ripped off her nose shredded material).
By the time my sister and I finished breastfeeding, Mom's already tiny breasts were almost flat. We would hear this over and over again for almost the next 30 years. As her mom was dressing her, she joked, “She doesn't have enough breasts to wear this dress because of you guys,” and called the two of us boob thieves. “Those breasts weren’t from me,” she said while we were trying on bras. (Of course, thanks to us, she no longer needs a bra.)
Thinking of all the things that could negatively impact my daughter's life, I didn't want changes in my body to be one of them.
Growing up, I would always roll my eyes at the comments. Sure, it sucks that your body looks different, but that's part of being a mom. Yes? Change is a natural part of life to overcome and accept. I couldn't understand why she was still hanging on to her body after so many years. So when I was pregnant with my first child, a now six-month-old bundle of energy, I made a list of promises in my mind to my future daughter. I vowed to always love and support her. I promised myself that I would be a softer, kinder person than the parents I grew up with. And I swore that I would never blame her for any of the physical changes she might go through because of her.
Pregnancy is such a beautiful and transformative experience, but it can be mired in negative thoughts surrounding what it does to a person's body. Social media and snapback culture have changed society to think that pregnancy-related changes are a bad thing, rather than an empowering, natural transition. Sure, I wasn't expecting extra padding on my tummy or stripes on my butt, but it all comes with the process. Yes? Thinking of all the things that could negatively impact my daughter's life, I didn't want to. my Your body turns into one of them.
Of course, it was easy to hold on to these beliefs when I was pregnant, just as it was easy to dismiss my mother's comments as “mom talk.” I have yet to experience childbirth, motherhood, and the wild journey your body goes through afterwards. In fact, during my pregnancy my skin was clearer than ever, my hair was longer than ever, and I've never felt happier, calmer, or more secure since. And what about the mythical “pregnancy light”? I really did have one, and I loved giving credit to anyone who would listen to it as a growing child.
But I actually gave birth. And now that I'm in my fourth trimester, I can fully admit that I naively underestimated the postpartum phase. A lot of things change when you become pregnant and have a child. It's a reality that my mom (and every other mother in history) clearly understood before I did. My laissez-faire energy during pregnancy led me to believe that once my child arrived on Earth, everything would be peaches and cream. But now I can say with all my heart that my daughter, whom I wanted to go to the ends of the earth, changed my life forever.
Before my daughter was born, I considered getting less than eight hours of sleep a physical and mental disaster. now? I have not slept for more than 3 hours in a row since September 30, 2023. My slightly hectic days became chaotic due to overstimulation and fatigue. The alone time I cherished is long gone, and there is a constant stream of friends and family vying to take that spot by my baby's side. Don't even get me started on breastfeeding, which ironically turns my breasts into jello. This is probably the most difficult part of the postpartum experience. But what's one change I, as a skincare-obsessed editor, didn't plan on making? A set of puffy dark circles permanently etched into my skin.
When I got pregnant, I expected stretch marks, weight gain, and breast changes. But what about my face? It was a part of my body that I was sure I could control. As a beauty editor who has dealt with acne, hyperpigmentation, and PCOS throughout my life, I've devoted my entire career to getting my skin to the relatively smooth, clear state it was before pregnancy. It took countless products, facials, peels, and cosmetic injectables, but finally my skin was so locked down that even pregnancy hormones couldn't touch it.
Despite your best efforts and promises, you are faced with a truly new version of yourself after having a baby.
But I'm six months post-baby and I feel like I'm back to a slightly worse state. Blackheads and whiteheads have now become regular visitors. Hyperpigmentation occurs after each breakout. The area under my eyes has become zombified. I already know the products and commitments available, but clear skin takes time and effort, which is currently not possible when caring for your first child.
When I sit back and think about how I got here, I can finally empathize with the women in my life who have complained about their breasts, cellulite, bellies, hips, and skin after having children. Despite your best efforts and promises, you are faced with a truly new version of yourself after having a baby. You are the happiest and most exhausted you have ever been. You're proud of what your body has done, but you probably wish you could have left all your new physical ailments at the front door. Your whole life can suddenly become a story of multiple truths and feel like an endless lucid dream.
Now I understand why, almost 30 years later, mom's breasts still come up in conversations. Watching everything in my life change so quickly and uncontrollably, especially my own face and body, is something I can never “get over.” Watching your belly shrink, your hairline disappear, and the dark circles that persist throughout the first six months of your daughter's life will be memories that will last a lifetime. never leave me Having children literally changes your brain chemistry. The process is forever etched in your memory and the person you are becoming. You watch this little person grow before your eyes, but you too are growing and changing. And often without due awareness or understanding.
My daughter gave me dark circles. I stole her mom's breasts. But as every mother knows, these physical changes are about more than just “mom stuff.” It's a permanent link to the critical months postpartum when you realize that your life, and often your body, will never be the same. It's one of the first milestones of becoming a parent, and one of the many sacrifices that make you stronger.
These are the memories and lessons I will share with my daughter as she grows up. Yes, having a baby definitely gave me belly fat and dark circles that I really didn't want, but it also changed me for the better. As I've learned over the past few months, there is beauty and nuance to motherhood that can't be explained. My eyes may look sleepy, but my greatest joy is watching my daughter grow and learn. I now look forward to the day when I can remind her that she is the reason I need three of her eye creams. Because I will make sure she knows that being her mom is still the most important part of my story.