My Life as an African Gypsy

So this title is a bit deceiving, making you think that I had no stretch marks before this day; however, that is simply untrue. My years of puberty left me gifts of shiny little squiggly lines on my hips and inner thighs. It didn’t help that in college I happened to gain some 25-30 pounds and then proceeded to lose it all months down the road. Yeah, that still seems like a little foggy bit in life that I don’t remember, but I assure you there are a few pictures for proof. Anyways, back to this day that I found, ahem, my new stretch marks.

I was 39 weeks pregnant with my precious little Anaya, and up to this point had felt pretty good about myself. I only gained twenty-five pounds during the pregnancy, and while my tummy was large and in charge, it happened gradually and felt pretty normal to me and somewhat cute. I had semi-faithfully rubbed what is called ‘Bio Oil’ on my belly to prevent stretch marks, and had already drafted a letter offering my services for commercials and campaigns, because I was proof this stuff worked; I had no stretch marks! (Okay, I hadn’t really written the letter, but that was my state of mind.) I say semi-faithfully because I had every intention of putting it on once or twice a day, but hello, I am a girl who can’t even wash her face on a regular basis, or take my make-up off at the end of the day, so yeah, semi-faithfully better fits the scenario.

We don’t own very many mirrors, and only have one on lend that is full length. I keep it in the guest room for now, which has odd lighting, but does the job of checking to make sure I look put together enough and that my pants aren’t too tight, leaving weird tightly stretched lines under my booty. This was the mirror I used during my pregnancy to admire my beautiful preggo belly. Oh this mirror of lies! Okay, maybe it isn’t the mirror’s fault and more my own for the lighting issue, but I would rather blame the evil mirror.

Okay, so we are back to being 39 weeks pregnant and I was in the bathroom when I decided to admire my big belly in a tiny little mirror attached to our shower. I had done this before, and while I couldn’t see the whole thing, I could get a glimpse of the glory that was my belly. This being my first pregnancy, I was simply in awe. It was during this observation that I saw what appeared to be some faint marks lower than my belly button. Frantically I went up on my tip toes. There, to my horror, were lots of squiggly lines! They were a light reddish purple. I felt nauseous and went to sit on the toilet, where I could pee, something I did every few minutes, and get my thoughts together.

My husband came in to find me sitting on the toilet with tears in my eyes, rubbing Bio Oil like a mad woman, thinking perhaps the oil could make them disappear now. When he asked what was wrong, I could hardly get out the words: “I… have… stretch marks!” This was followed by a flow of tears that did not stop for a half an hour or more. Once, when my husband asked if I was still crying, I said, “Yes! I am mourning my body!” I knew I couldn’t cry about these things forever, and now that they were permanent additions, I figured I’d give myself a day to mourn them, and then I’d have to move on.

“Have I moved on?” you ask. Not really. I don’t cry over them anymore, but post-baby they seem a little higher than they were, and they haven’t shrunk any, which I think they will. They are now silver-y and not reddish purple, so that’s a plus. Some people like to call them battle scars from pregnancy. Yeah, that doesn’t work for me, or make me feel much better about them. They are what they are, and they are permanent, so there ya have it. I’ll just try hard to get this tummy back in shape and work with what I’ve got. I think of it more as a sacrifice I chose to have my precious girl. It was worth it, but still a sacrifice, and sacrifices aren’t generally thought of as fun or easy.