Tonight's the night I bare my muffin top for all to see. Well, everyone who comes to the Cooperator's Hall at the River Run Theatre tonight. The skirt I'm borrowing for my costume is a bit snug and really accentuates my muffin top. Oh well, I think everyone agrees that the muffin top is the best part of the muffin. I always save it for last.
And I have a perverse desire to show my belly in all its post baby glory, to say to the world, yeah I had a baby and I'm still carrying 25 extra pounds, and I'm proud of it. (Well, I'm not really proud but the audience doesn't need to know that, and I refuse to feel bad about it and hide.) I am making a concerted effort to love this pouchy belly, to love that it housed the most amazing thing to ever come into our lives for nine months, to love that this belly can really shimmy and undulate.
There is one part of the choreography where we dip chest half-moons while moving to the side, and we have to look at our chests while we do it. But it's not enough to just look at our chests; Ishra says we have to love our chests while we look. That was our homework on Wednesday night. To love our breasts. And I gotta say, it's kinda hard. They are just so pendulous since I started breastfeeding, and I'm still not used to seeing them in the mirror. But during that move, I think of the success I have had breastfeeding Swee'pea, and that makes me love them. I know that not everyone can breastfeed, despite what La Leche League may say, and I am grateful that Swee'pea knew exactly what he was doing from the beginning, even if I didn't. Mad Hatter has written a beautiful piece about the pain she experienced breastfeeding, both physical and emotional, called Milk let-down (I love your titles, Mad). I don't think I have any readers who don't also read Mad, but just in case, you should read it. I think there's a fine line between supporting and encouraging breastfeeding, and alienating mothers and babies who can't, and making mothers feel like failures.
Anyways, wish me, my muffin top and my breasts luck tonight.
Hello 2024
10 months ago
4 comments:
It's funny - I have these totally spontaneous moments of loving my post-baby body. Last night I was trying on clothes at H&M (in London! at last! huzzah!) and there were mirrors on both sides of the changeroom: one in front and one in back. So I kept getting glimpses of the pouchy bits above and below my bra-strap, etc. etc. etc. and something about that just felt grown-up and womanly and hey-this-body-gave-birth-to-two-children-and-I'm-not-trying-to-hide-it!
I look my age now, and sometimes that feels like a powerful thing.
good luck! may the boobs and muffin top shake, rattle and roll.
Just getting here now so I can't wish you luck. I can ask how it went though. Well? Did you love your breasts? Did you pass around the best part of the muffin?
Yeah, it went well. Thanks for asking. And as it happened, the audience got kinda rowdy just as we had to love our breasts, which made me chuckle and smile as I looked at them. So it was good. And no major screw-ups, which is always nice, especially after a disastrous dress rehearsal. It seems to me that good dress rehearsals never bode well.
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