I knew my body would change after having a baby, but I didn’t expect to feel so disconnected from it. When I look in the mirror, I don’t recognize the person staring back. My belly is soft and stretched, my breasts ache, aren’t perky like they once were, and my clothes don’t fit the way they used to. Even after the baby weight starts coming off, my body just feels… different. And no one really prepared me for how hard that would be.

I try to remind myself that this body did something amazing, it grew and nourished a life. But some days, that reminder isn’t enough to quiet the sadness. I miss feeling strong, looking strong. I miss having energy. I miss putting on an outfit and actually liking the way I look. Instead, I feel like I’m hiding, constantly adjusting my clothes, avoiding mirrors, and wondering if I’ll ever feel like myself again.

And then there’s the pressure, the expectation that I should be bouncing back, getting fit, “snapping back” like I see other moms do on social media. I know I shouldn’t compare, but it’s hard not to. I tell myself I should be grateful, that my body gave me my baby, that these changes are proof of what I’ve been through. But even though I love my baby more than anything, I still grieve the version of myself I lost.

The worst part is how isolating it feels. People check in on the baby, but no one really asks how I’m feeling about this. About the fact that I don’t feel at home in my own skin. About the guilt I feel for even caring. About how exhausting it is to pretend I’m okay when I don’t even know how to put into words what’s wrong.

I don’t have all the answers, and I know healing, both physically and emotionally, will take time. But I’m trying. I’m trying to be patient with myself, to find small moments of self-care, to remind myself that my worth isn’t measured by my waistline or stretch marks. I don’t have to love my postpartum body right away, but maybe, little by little, I can learn to accept it. And maybe, one day, I’ll even appreciate it.