Dear new mama: I wish you could see what I see

Dear new mama,  

I wish you could see what I see. 

I know what you might see because I remember seeing it in myself, too, when I was a new mom. 

I saw someone I didn’t recognize in the mirror. 

I saw myself as stretched out and bloated and leaking and broken. I saw dark circles under my eyes, new lines on my skin, hair greasy and unwashed. I saw wet spots on my shirt where my nipples were leaking and sweat under my arms that smelled extremely funky. I saw a belly that no longer was a home for my baby. Instead I saw an empty and large vessel that seemed foreign on my previously known self. Under this belly I saw a scar, puffy and angry; a reminder of perceived failure. I saw hips that would never again fit into my pre-pregnancy jeans, forcing me to buy new clothes in sizes I didn’t realize I had prejudice against. 

I did not like who I saw when I was a new mom. 

I didn’t know this woman yet. I didn’t accept her. I was judgmental and unkind to the woman in the mirror. When I was vulnerable and raw, just beginning to navigate my new self, I didn’t see myself as someone new, not unlike my sweet baby.

These sweet babies of ours are a beautiful new arrival that require support and coddling and love. New mothers are also a beautiful new arrival that require support and coddling and love. I wish I had been as generous and as accepting with myself after giving birth as I had been with my baby.

Admitting this makes my heart ache. Because when I look back now, I see a scared and scarred new person. A new person that deserved all the gentleness and grace I provided to my new baby. I never would have looked at my child and thought, “Ew, their baby fat is so gross.” Instead I looked at my child and said, “Look at that chubby thigh! It’s so delicious!” I celebrated every pound my baby gained and kissed their sweet new skin. When my child spit up or pooped everywhere, I didn’t feel shame for their bodily functions. I cleaned them up gently, swaddled them in a fresh diaper, hugged and kissed them all over. I celebrated and loved the miracle of them being here, poop smells and dimpled thighs and all the squishy newness of them all. 

These sweet babies of ours are a beautiful new arrival that require support and coddling and love. New mothers are also a beautiful new arrival that require support and coddling and love. I wish I had been as generous and as accepting with myself after giving birth as I had been with my baby.

So, new mama, I want you to know what I see: 

I see someone as fresh and as raw as their new baby. I see someone that does not yet know how beautiful they are.

I see tenderness and strength. I recognize an undercurrent and hum to a new mother.

I see someone that lives right below the surface of her new skin, like an exposed nerve, unsure yet how to heal.

I see someone that is powerful in ways she doesn’t yet realize. I see a new person being born that deserves as much grace and gratitude as the baby in her arms.

I wish that you could see what I see when I see you, sooner than I saw it in myself:

You are the most beautiful version of yourself yet.