I want to preface this post by saying that I’m not writing this for attention, nor am I hoping to elicit responses such as, “but Vanessa you look good.” I’m writing this because it is my hope that it’s relatable to some of my readers, or at least opens up the eyes of some people to the dangerous body obsessed culture we live in, as well as the realities of postpartum life.
As many of you are aware, I have lived a pretty active lifestyle. For four years I dedicated my exercise routine to powerlifting, and even shared my passion with my students. While powerlifting gave me great physical strength, it also made me become more critical of my body. Since I lost a lot of weight four years ago, I have become hypersensitive to every little change and every pound lost or gained. On social media I would project myself as this confident fashionista, but inside I was being incredibly critical and unkind to myself. This has been a huge struggle of mine for many years. I hate to admit it, but I care too much about what I look like, and how (I think) others think I look. Because of this, I knew that pregnancy was going to be a challenge.
As I’ve written in past posts, I kept pretty active throughout my pregnancy. The third trimester was the toughest. At about 33 weeks onward, it was very difficult for me to go on walks due to the pressure on my cervix. Even though I couldn’t take long walks around my neighborhood, I still did prenatal workouts in the comfort of my home. This, in of combination of comments such as, “you’re all belly”, led me to believe that after the baby was born my body would just snap back to what it was before. Even my OB would tell me that my stomach was going to be flat quickly after birth. For me, these types of comments would be just as unhelpful as when people told me I looked like I was carrying twins. Even throughout my pregnancy, I never weighed myself, and I always told the OB not to tell me how much weight I gained. It was better for my mental health not to know.
When I came home after Velouria was born, I cried when I looked into the mirror for the first time. I was incredibly swollen and my belly looked like a deflated beach ball. I had to wait two weeks before the swelling came down, but honestly, to my naive surprise, my belly just wasn’t shrinking as fast as I thought it would. I found myself looking at hashtags of different weeks postpartum to see what other women looked like. I was falling into the trap of comparing myself to others. On top of that, my body was in so much pain for almost four weeks after having Velouria. Due to the episiotomy, I had trouble walking, bending, and moving. My stitches even opened up after two weeks and the pain was excruciating. I had no idea that postpartum life would be this tough, and I’m not even talking about raising a newborn. I even purchased a waist binder to help with my healing, but I couldn’t fit it on until two weeks postpartum. After that, I struggled to wear it every single day for several hours because it was so uncomfortable. I also became concerned with my loose belly skin. It was not what I pictured my body to be after having the baby.
At my 6 weeks postpartum appointment, my OB cleared me for exercise. I was more than happy to get back into it, but it took a long time. For months I couldn’t do anything high intensity or with too much resistance because it hurt my pelvic floor too much, and I also suffered from tennis elbow. I was proactive and started seeing a physiotherapist to help with my pelvic health as soon as I could. My physiotherapist diagnosed me with a four-finger width ab separation. This is what was creating the bulge in my belly and caved in belly button. I was given several exercises to do everyday in order to lessen the gap, and so far, it has gone down to a one finger width separation. After speaking with a couple people and reading online, I learned that this entire process will be very long and slow. If anyone knows me, you know that I never give up; it just feels so frustrating when I see that other women just snap back so fast after having their baby while I have to work 10 times harder. Once again, I know I shouldn’t compare myself to others, but I can’t help but do so. This is something I really need to work on.
I have since done an Instagram cleanse. I unfollowed any account that made me compare myself or contained content about about dieting. Posts like “diet starts tomorrow” reinforce the idea that our body must look a particular way to meet society’s standards. It is more important for me to focus on what my body can do instead of what it looks like. I need to constantly remind myself of a TED talk I once watched, where the message was about how it’s not about bouncing back, but moving forward.
Some may read this and think I am totally vain caring so much about my body. Maybe I am. Regardless, it’s been hard. “Give yourself grace”, “give yourself time” – these are the things I am told. It’s cliche, but it’s true. I so badly want to have someone wave a magic wand to make me feel confident in my body. That’s never going to happen, so I do need to be kinder to myself. I keep saying to myself how I want my pre-pregnancy body back, but the reality is that I hated my body then too.
I hope that this is relatable to some readers. If it is, I want you to know that you are not alone. We shouldn’t care what other people think we look like, especially after giving birth. If people are going to judge me by the way I look, then those people aren’t friends. Our society cares too much about outward appearance and it has negatively affected the way I live my life. Diet culture is toxic, and it has led me to have body dysmorphic disorder. I want this to change not just for me, but for every woman who feels that there are unrealistic are harmful expectations placed upon them. I want to not just accept what I look like and who I am, but to celebrate and love me for me. I know it won’t be easy, but letting this out in the open is the right step forward. I have a daughter now, and I would never want her to feel as I have. Instead, I will teach Velouria that the value of a person is not determined by how they look, but that true beauty comes from within.
On Birth.
“It is amazing how a new child can refocus one’s direction seconds after its birth.” – David Bowie
Throughout my pregnancy, I enjoyed reading birth stories online as a way to prepare for labour. What easily became clear from reading so many stories, is that everyone’s was different. I knew mine was going to be too, and that is why I was so nervous for what would ultimately be unpredictable. All I knew was that in the end, I would have a baby!
On the night of September 7th, while we were watching the movie Parenthood, I started leaking some kind of fluid which I first thought was urine. The next day I even posted a thread on Reddit asking if anyone has had a similar experience, called my sister, and spoke with a friend as well. Based on what I read and what I was told, my husband and I decided to take a walk to hopefully stimulate labor. After the walk, we then decided we should go to the hospital just in case. We arrived at triage at approximately 4:00 p.m. and it was confirmed that I was leaking amniotic fluid. The doctor did a cervical check and fully broke my water. At this time I had zero contractions, but was told we’re having the baby! I was admitted into a room, hooked up with an IV and was given oxytocin to get the labor kick started. I went from 3 cm to 4 cm dilated within an hour or so, and to my surprise, the contractions still weren’t that horrible. Quite a few hours later I was able to get an epidural. I got one earlier than expected which was great because by that time, the contractions were really starting to hurt. Getting the epidural was scary, but it wasn’t painful. I was really shaky and nervous throughout this process. Having scoliosis, I was worried about the epidural not working, but I’m pleased to say that the epidural did in fact work. For the next few hours my husband and I did a crossword, watched an episode of Seinfeld, and tried to sleep. I was very restless, however, especially when the contractions came because though they weren’t painful, I stil felt an immense amount of pressure.
The next day I pretty much spent the whole time having nurses check me to see how far I was dilating. I did eventually make it to 10 cm, but it was a very long process. The contractions were very, very painful in terms of pressure, even though I had an epidural. The pressure really did come from the butt and felt like I need to take the biggest crap in the world. After waiting and waiting and being so uncomfortable, I was told that the baby was turned to the wrong way and they needed to make sure she was turned the correct way in order to avoid a c-section, and by this time, I had already been pushing for almost an hour. The nurses had to get me on all fours in order for this flip to happen. This was one of the worst moments of labour because it was so painful. Luckily, it worked. I ended up pushing for two hours in total and the nurses were very impressed with how strong my pushes were, but the baby still needed help coming out. When the doctor came in, I was told that forceps would be needed. I remember the feeling of the doctor inserting the forceps and he had to perform an episiotomy in order for it to work. Honestly, I felt everything even though I had the epidural. The next thing I remember were the nurses yelling “look up” and my baby was right there in front of me. I didn’t cry, but was in absolute shock, shaking uncontrollably. Our girl weighed 8 lb 13 oz and all the medical staff were shocked how big she was compared to my size. After getting cleaned up, she was placed on me for skin to skin and I was still in absolute shock and awe.
The whole process took approximately 24 hours and though it may not sound it, it felt pretty traumatic. It was very long stressful, and painful, but of course worth it. My husband was absolutely amazing. He consoled me, supported me, and helped me every step of the way. He was holding me while I was pushing whispering in my ear how strong I was and how I could do it.
I’m not going to lie; postpartum has been very difficult. I was very sore because of the episiotomy, and am still healing. What really surprised me the most was the amount of swelling that I had. My feet blew up to gigantic proportions. I could barely walk because of how swollen my legs and feet were. To be completely honest, looking in the mirror, I have cried several times. The day I got home I looked 10 times bigger than I was while pregnant and didn’t really recognize who I saw. Since then, it has been very hard to be kind to myself.
Our baby girl has been amazing and we’re still getting used to a routine. She is a healthy, robust baby and I’m still in shock that I am a mom! Welcome to the world, Velouria Prudence Mousseau!
On the second trimester.
“Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart.” – Marcus Aurelius
I entered the second trimester with a renewed sense of excitement, as my first trimester was filled with anxiety and shock. As I wrote in a previous post it was such a great experience sharing our big news with others. Little did I know, that from then onward, pretty much the rest of my pregnancy would be spent in isolation.
At the very beginning of March, news started spreading more rapidly about Covid-19. Brandon and I had booked our “babymoon” to Miami a couple months prior, and were looking forward to it so much, but we were now obviously rethinking it. It was also around this time that I got super sick with a cough and chest congestion. My family doctor told me to take a week off work, which I had never done before. During this week I also had my first appointment with my OB. At this time, Brandon was allowed to come with me. At the appointment, our doctor was able to show us the baby on a tiny ultrasound machine and answer any questions that we had. My concerns at that point were my back (I have scoliosis), mental health, exercise/diet, and whether or not we should cancel our trip. We left the appointment in pretty good spirits, but ultimately decided to cancel our vacation; we saw it as too big of a risk as there were (are still are) many unknowns about the effects of Covid on a fetus. To be honest, I was devastated about cancelling our trip because I saw it as the last time Brandon and I would be on vacation just the two of us, and was something I was obviously looking forward to. Literally two days later, the government announced that all schools would be closed the two weeks following March Break. The shit was really hitting the fan at this point. As we know, school never resumed in person. I never got to say goodbye to any of my students because I was still recovering from my sickness.
Looking back, the months that followed were almost a blur because they were very difficult emotionally. The isolation hit me hard. People told me that the second trimester is the best, but I couldn’t feel that way when I couldn’t go anywhere. I was miserable, constantly thinking about how all the joys I was supposed to experience had been taken away from me. I had to cancel my shower. I couldn’t get together with friends or family. All OB appointments now had to be attended alone. I wasn’t at work, sharing my journey with students and colleagues. I was in mourning for the loss of what was supposed to be a time of happiness and excitement. Not all was horrible though, as Brandon was allowed to come in at the last few minutes when I had my anatomy scan at 19 weeks. It was during this ultrasound that it was revealed to us that we were having a girl. I will never forget seeing Brandon’s face, as he was standing by my feet when we were told. It’s moments like that I have to remember, not the isolation and loneliness.
In order to be positive, I tried to keep myself occupied. I did a puzzle, created a slideshow of staff for our students, drew some sidewalk chalk art on our driveway, and started putting together the nursery. I needed to find distractions or else I would spiral into misery. This wasn’t always easy to do, but it definitely helped. When the weather got warmer, Brandon and I would go on walks in our neighbourhood, which was a good stress reliever.
My belly really popped at around 20/21 weeks. It’s funny because I thought I looked big then, and now I laugh! I was so naive! I continued to have OB appointments every four weeks. At these appointments, the doctor would weigh me, take my blood pressure, measure my belly, and listen to the heartbeat. At around 26 weeks, I had my glucose test, where I had to gulp down a super sweet orange drink and then have my blood taken an hour later. My results were great, with my iron and sugar levels being where they should be. I also continued to exercise regularly, doing kickboxing, rowing, and powerlifting, though my energy levels decreased at the very end of the trimester. Overall, I was very fortunate that the pregnancy itself was going smoothly, minus the heartburn.
I can’t really recall the very first time I felt the baby move, but it was definitely after 20 weeks. I was told at my anatomy scan that I have anterior placenta, which acts like a shock absorber. This meant that I wouldn’t feel movements as intensely. The first movements felt like little spasms, not the fluttering a lot of other people describe them as. The spasm feeling then turned into more of a bubbling sensation, then ultimately to what I can best describe as rolls/waves in my belly. For someone with anterior placenta, by the end of the second trimester I could really feel the baby move! She kicks, punches, shakes, rolls, squirms all at once! I do have to say, that feeling her move is simultaneously the weirdest and most wonderful thing in the world!
If there’s one word that could best describe my second trimester, it would have to be acceptance. Never in a million years would I have thought I would be pregnant during a pandemic. It is not easy to be so isolated all the time, but I had to tell myself it was the best thing for me to do for myself and the baby. As many of you are probably aware, I relied a lot on social media to share pictures of my growing bump, because it was pretty much my only communication with the outside world. This was the only thing I could do in attempt to share my pregnancy experiences with others. As much as a lot of things sucked, I had to deal with it; what else could I do? My one colleague said to me in a message, that I should think of this time as special, because me and the baby are going to have such an amazing bond, and I will always remember it was just the two of us for many days on end. I am so thankful for that sentiment, as it reminded me that we must make the most out of the circumstances we are in. A lot of the times this is easier said than done, but it is so important to keep positive. I am so grateful for Brandon who remained my number one supporter throughout everything, and who still is the one to bring my spirits up and tell me I’m strong. As the Beatles once sang, all you need is love.
Seven Years.
“Those who have never known the deep intimacy and the intense companionship of mutual love have missed the best thing that life has to give.” – Bertrand Russell
Every year I dedicate a post to celebrate the anniversary of our marriage. This year it feels a bit different. Around this time we’re usually jet setting, travelling to a new destination to get away from reality, spending time exploring new places together. Even though travel for leisure is basically banned right now due to the pandemic, we wouldn’t have been going anywhere too far anyway because I’m 33 weeks pregnant! I would be lying if I said I’m not sad we’re unable to travel, but I have completely accepted it; Brandon and I are actually embarking on the biggest adventure of our lives! This pregnancy has brought us even closer together, which I honestly didn’t know could have been possible. It may sound cheesy and cliche, but my love and admiration for Brandon has grown, as he has been so incredibly supportive. He may not fully understand what it is like for me to be pregnant and the physical changes I’m going through, but he does his best. Emotionally, I would be an absolute disaster without Brandon by my side. There is one thing I know for certain, and that is Brandon is going to be the best father ever.
Cheers to seven years of marriage, Brandon! My love for you continues to grow and I look forward to sharing our love with our baby girl in September!
Photos: Carrie J Photography
Dressing the Bump.
“Fashion is only the attempt to realize art in living forms and social intercourse.” – Francis Bacon
As someone who is dress obsessed, I’m lucky that my pregnancy fell within the warmer months. This made it much easier to find clothing that both suited my personality and my expanding bump!
During the first trimester, changes to my body came quickly. These changes were most likely not noticeable to anyone else but myself. For example, my boobs got bigger, but not humungous. Bras were the first item of clothing that started to become uncomfortable. In the summer I rarely wear bras, but at this time in my pregnancy it was around February, and for me, bras were needed. I opted for more of a bralette style that was more comfortable to move in, yet still provided support. This one here still remains my favourite. My tummy was changing too, but not into the typical round bump one thinks of. Instead, I felt I was getting a bit of a pouch below my belly button. Anything remotely fitted was off limits. Leggings and tunic tops became my best friends, as well as swing dresses. These felt much more comfortable on my body as they accommodated any changes I was feeling insecure about. Out of caution, I didn’t tell many people I was pregnant during the first trimester, so I didn’t want to dress in a way that I was hiding something, nor did I want to feel awkward in the clothes I already had.
My bump continued to grow, but really “popped” into a hard ball at around 20 weeks, which means I was well into my second trimester. For clothing, my main goal was to find dresses that could fit me throughout the pregnancy, and afterwards as well. I don’t like the idea of spending a lot of money on maternity clothes that would eventually become useless, so I searched the internet for dresses that were maternity friendly rather than actual maternity wear. Since we were (and still are) in a pandemic, I couldn’t go into stores to try clothes on, so I had to pay extra attention to details in order to evaluate if a particular dress would work or not. Here are my tips for finding well suited non maternity dresses:
- Babydoll style or empire waist. This is when the skirt of the dress flares out from right under the bust. Thankfully, this is a trend right now. It provides a lot of fabric for your expanding bump.
- Avoid zippers and buttons. My chest and waist have obviously expanded, so I avoided anything with zippers or buttons because they would render some dresses useless as I continued to grow. Instead, look for stretchy material and smocking for a more comfortable and longer lasting fit, or even adjustable ties.
- Go midi or maxi. Though a mini dress would be cooler during the hot summer days, they don’t work as well if you have a larger bump because the skirt ends up sticking out too far and riding up. Being only 5’1″, midi dresses basically work as maxi dresses for me; they provide just the right amount of coverage. I’ve been fortunate that I can still shave my legs, but for those who have more difficultly, midi and maxi dresses also help with that!
- Be aware of lining. Some dresses that worked for me in the second trimester, did not in the third. The main reason was that they had lining that was restrictive and did not fit the bump. If possible, look for dresses without lining to get the maximum amount of use out of them.
- Look in your closest. I didn’t have to buy an entirely new wardrobe. Some dresses I wore last summer still fit for pregnancy. My only concern is whether on not I have been stretching them out!
- Check out your favourite stores. Most of my dresses were purchased from stores I already shopped at! Here are some of my favourites, especially when finding maternity friendly dresses that fit my criteria: Free People, Urban Outfitters, Zara, American Eagle, Aritzia, Old Navy, Red Dress Boutique.
In terms of sizing, I honestly purchased all my new dresses in my regular, pre pregnancy size. I think this worked because of the tips I mentioned, especially in regards to finding garments that stretch or have smocking. I did buy a couple maternity dresses, but they are actually my least favourite to wear. I think maternity dresses almost make you look more pregnant! That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but I just don’t feel as comfortable in them, and really, comfort is the most important thing. You do what’s best for you. That’s the best advice for anything in regards to pregnancy. What works for one woman, might not for another. Every experience is different. Some feel more confident with the bump than others and wear bodycon/fitted dresses, while others are a little more self conscious. Whatever the case, just know that as a pregnant woman, you are seriously rocking it no matter what!
Dress: Aritzia. Week: 22
Dress: Red Dress Boutique. Week: 23
Dress: Aritzia (sold out, but very similar here). Week: 25
Dress: Tiare Hawaii. Week: 25
Dress: Free People. Week: 26
Dress: Urban Outfitters. Week: 27
Dress: Free People. Week: 28
Dress: Zara. Week: 29
Dress: Free People. Week: 29
Dress: Zara. Week: 30
Dress: Free People. Week: 31
Dress: Purchased pre-pregnancy from Unique Vintage. Week: 32
On The First Trimester.
“Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don’t resist them – that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like.” – Lao Tzu
Thursday January 9. This is the day that would change our lives forever. As soon as I got up in the morning I mustered up the courage to take the test. For a week or so prior, I had a feeling I was pregnant, but didn’t want to admit it to myself. My period was late and my boobs were sore. I was just too scared to face reality. I recall telling my good friend the day before (while we were out in subzero weather striking) and she said, “Vanessa, you need to just take the test.” When I saw the line show up on the test that next morning I cried. I ran into the bedroom and told Brandon right away. He hugged me and told me everything was going to be ok. Going to work that day was rough. A million questions and fears ran through my mind: Am I ready? Will my identity change? Would I be a good mom? Is our house big enough?Will I still be able to enjoy the things I do? These thoughts did not end that day, but continued for pretty much the entire first trimester.
Fortunately, I pretty much had no major symptoms throughout the first trimester and had absolutely no morning sickness. There was more for me to cope with mentally and emotionally, rather than physically. I was in shock, and as I said previously, I was scared. Brandon was, and continues to be, an incredible husband who supported me every step of the way. He understood my anxieties and listened. Time was what was needed in order for me to fully realize that yes, I was going to have a baby.
As soon as I knew I was pregnant, I contacted my family doctor and had all the necessary blood tests. I then had my first ultrasound at 8 weeks. It was at this appointment that the due date of September 6 was given, and I also got to hear the heartbeat for the first time. I still remember seeing that image of a little jellybean and thinking how crazy that life was now growing inside of me. It was right before this ultrasound that we told our family the news. First was my sister, followed by visits to my parents’ house and my mother-in-law’s. Our family was ecstatic and in shock, as not everyone expected me and Brandon to start a family since we have already been together for so long. Honestly, at that point, I was still in a bit of shock myself! I also told a couple of close friends, just so I could have some more emotional support in the early stages of pregnancy.
My next set of blood tests and ultrasound were scheduled for 12 weeks, which would be near the end of the first trimester. The baby wasn’t very cooperative that day and I had to run around, do jumping jacks, and move side to side in order for the technician to get the information required. After she was able to do so, Brandon and I finally got a glimpse of what actually now started looking more like a human than a bean. It was also around this time that I started to feel my body change. Clothes were getting tighter, and while there was no clear baby bump, I felt as if I was getting a bit of a beer gut! My energy levels were still high, and I was able to do the workout routine I had been doing months prior, which included rowing, dumbbell lifting, ab exercises, and jumprope. I stopped powerlifting in late fall, so I felt no need to start back up with it at this time.
More than anything, during the first trimester, I just wanted to tell everyone I was pregnant. I absolutely hate keeping secrets! Brandon and I just wanted to play it safe before we started telling everyone. In addition to that, I found these first few months to go by the quickest. After all, I didn’t even officially know I was expecting until one month in. Also, during this time we planned a ‘babymoon’ in Miami for March Break to officially celebrate (but more about that in an upcoming post on living through a pandemic in my second trimester) and I purchased a new car to prepare for the baby.
As I said, the first trimester was more difficult for me emotionally, than physically. There were days where lots of tears were shed and fear was all that was on my mind. But there were also days of wonder and curiosity, of self growth and understanding. When I told my colleagues at school I was pregnant, I never expected such joyous reactions. Announcing on social media also had the same effect, where I was taken aback by the genuine well wishes that were sent our way. It was as if I needed the positive reassurance of others that this was in fact, going to be the best adventure Brandon and I could ever embark on.
We’re in this together 🙂
On punk.
“All punk is is attitude. That’s what makes it. The attitude.” – Joey Ramone
During the summer before grade 10, I made a bold decision – I cut my hair. Now, I don’t mean just a trim or even several inches, I cut it all off. I wanted my hair short and spiked. I wanted to feel different. I wanted to feel more like me. I also remember debuting this new haircut on the first day of school, wearing a plaid skirt and a shirt that read “girls rock”. Some may see this as a small act of teenage rebellion, but to this day, I think back on it as a moment in my life where I was not afraid to be myself. It is important to note that this was heavily influenced on my newfound love of punk music. Keep in mind that this is the year 2000, so the “punk” I was listening to was actually pop punk like Blink 182 and MXPX, but nonetheless, it was the music that encouraged me to be myself regardless of what anyone else thought.
Fast forward to today, and I am enjoying punk and post punk music more than ever before. This rediscovery actually came from my teaching. Last school year I taught a unit on the history of music in the 20th century to my grade 12 Adventures in World History class. When we got to the lesson about punk, I was so excited to expose my students to the loud sounds and outrageous looks that accompanied it. Even in 2019, the sights and sounds of the Sex Pistols still shocked my students. I even had students slow down as they were walking past my room and peak in, no doubt wondering what the heck I was playing. Later that night, I told Brandon that if I were to go back to school and get my Masters in History, I would definitely want to focus my research on punk rock. Brandon then did some quick researching himself, and purchased me books on this history of punk.
Punk has been seen as a fad. It ultimately reached its peak in 1977, then spurred into sub genres like oi punk, hardcore, and post-punk. The sounds may be different, but for me, the message remains the same. And it’s a message that is still incredibly important and relevant today. According to Lydon, labelling yourself as a punk, or anything at that matter, should be avoided. You can be influenced by something, but you need to progress to discover your own individuality. You can’t buy it in stores, it’s possibly something that you’re brought up with, your values, culture, or maybe it’s in your genetics. It’s not physical, but mental. And that’s the most important thing to remember.
- 1
- 2
- 3
- …
- 25
- Next Page »