Why I'm Thankful For My Stretchmarks
©Jan Andersen 2001
When I was a teenager, I dreamed about possessing a belly that was flat, taut and tanned. Then after I had my first child at the age of 22, I dreamed about having a belly without stretchmarks. Three years ago, at the age of 40 and after giving birth to my fourth child, I simply dreamed about having a belly that looked, well..like a belly.
Upon close inspection of the area where my abdomen used to be, is this squidgy, wobbly mass that closely resembles an uncooked pizza base, laced with a wonderful network of silvery tracks that would be an adventure playground for a toy train enthusiast. It's so pliable, I could gather it all up and tie it in a knot, to form a navel like you see on those toy cabbage patch dolls. When I fasten up my jeans, the flesh ripples beneath the zipper, like a surfboard riding a wave, which then overflows the waistband like a waterfall. However, its suppleness means I can simply tuck back inside the top of my jeans again, so there are some advantages.
I am forever practising positions that make my belly look more attractive. Basically, any position that requires me to bend in the middle is not conducive to the svelte look. You name it, I've tried it. Lying on my side, sitting forward, leaning back, holding my breath for hours, which is life-threatening to say the least.
On all fours is without a doubt the worst position imaginable. You know what a lump of pizza dough looks like when you hold it up with one hand and gravity creates the descending effect, well, I think you get the idea.
In fact, there is only one position where my abdomen doesn't assume the deflated beach ball effect and, that is, lying flat on my back, breathing in with such force it hurts and stretching my arms above my head. Unfortunately, this position is not favourable to normal, day-to-day functioning and would require me to be wheeled around on a stretcher.
Where did this extra skin come from? Did it form during pregnancy to accommodate the expanding bump, or is it just the same skin that has completely lost its elasticity and stubbornly refuses to spring back into its former shape? The latter, I fear, is true and no amount of gruelling exercise is going to remove this dermatologist's nightmare and plastic surgeon's delight.
During pregnancy, I greased myself up with a variety of oils, potions and pre-natal creams in a futile attempt to avoid the dreaded stretchmarks and to retain my skin's youthful suppleness. What a waste of time and money. The only thing it prevented was my partner from getting close to me. As soon as I slipped into his arms, I slipped straight out.
"It's like sleeping with a lump of lard", he bemoaned.
I eventually decided to wear my postnatal belly with pride. After all, I surmised, its imperfections were probably more noticeable to me than to anyone else. Each and every stretchmark is a reminder that I have borne four beautiful, healthy children, for which I am eternally grateful. And, in the same way, my children are a constant reminder that I have stretchmarks.
Only the other day, my 15-year-old son, exercising his usual charm and diplomacy, asked, "How did you say you got all those horrible ladder lines on your stomach mum?"
About the Author:
In addition to running Mothers Over 40, Jan Andersen is a Freelance Writer. If you are seeking the expertise of a professional writer, Jan can offer a variety of services, including the editing of personal creative writing pieces, critiquing, commercial copywriting, business writing, technical writing, proofreading, and marketing advice. For further details, or a free quotation, please e-mail Jan on worldwriteruk@hotmail.com
