This past weekend, my husband and I went on a little getaway to Mackinac Island. For Jon, it’s equal parts work conference and weekend away. For me, it’s quality time with Jon, a little sleeping in, room service, and Golden Girls. Saturday evening calls for a nice reception on the porch of The Grand Hotel, followed by a full-service sit-down meal inside. It’s a great excuse to dress up, so a few weeks ago I began searching for something new to wear, because, why not?
My search led to me to Poshmark, where I found a beautiful new-to-me dress. As an added bonus, there were photos of the Kate and Megan wearing the same one. It arrived and let’s just say the fit was less than ideal. It zipped, but only without a bra. And y’all know there are very few things I can wear in public sans bra (namely a bathing suit). But with a whole 2 weeks out from the getaway, I held out hope. I’ve started a new fitness routine and have tried making healthier choices. Down a few pounds, I figured surely in a couple weeks’ time I could drop a few more and the dress would look great.
Fast forward to last Thursday evening, packing my clothes for the trip. Moment of truth – I tried on the dress. Well, shit, I forgot I was supposed to stick with my regime. Actually, it did zip, even with a bra, but it didn’t look great. It felt a little tight in my tummy and bottom and there were definite remnants of a baby bump. And y’all know that ship has SAILED. Like sayonara, ain’t happenin’, don’t even go there, 5 kids would send me to the looney bin, SAILED. Now, despite the fact that my kids think they came out of my belly button, there is no medical reason my belly should show evidence of my children more than 2 years postpartum. Hopeful that there was still another 48 hours before I actually had to wear the dress, I packed it anyway - alongside an old magic standby that seems to always fit.
Saturday, after a “light” room service breakfast and terrible salad at lunch (thankfully the Bloody Mary washed it down), I retreated back to the room to get ready for our dinner. Trying on the dress, it did feel a little better than when I tried at home, but I still had what I considered a noticeable bump. But I really wanted to wear the dress – it was black lace, very soft, and I bought new earrings to wear with it.
I almost didn’t wear the dress. Then I thought, screw it.
A few years ago, I remember seeing an interview with Jennifer Garner. I’m not sure if I remember what she said so well because of her message, or because Jon says she’d play me in a movie. Either way, I remember her talking about public speculation over a baby bump. When she stated that there was a bump, the audience immediately began buzzing with excitement – until she interrupted them. She said, there was a bump, because she’s had 3 kids. There will ALWAYS be a bump!
Standing in the hotel room, I figured, who am I to turn my back on Jennifer’s wisdom?! I channeled my inner Jennifer and said, SCREW IT. This belly carried 4 kids. So what if it’s not as flat as I’d like? So what if my belly creates a bump almost as prominent as my chest? Why do I care what other people think anyway? Would my husband care when I took it off? Not a chance – even with the accompanying stretchmarks.
I made the decision to own it - a woman’s body does incredible things, and this one is mine. I liked the dress, and I wore it with confidence. I allowed myself to breathe, not suck in, and screw what anyone else thought.
Now, was I still incredibly flattered when another woman complimented me? Yes. Do I know or care if she got a side view? Nope. Do I love how these pictures turned out? No. But not because my belly is sticking out. But because of hotel lighting and a photographer whose enthusiasm for taking my pictures was less than ideal. So please don’t tell Jon I used my mirror selfies instead! But mostly I was disappointed only because I forgot to get a picture with my handsome date.
Am I in the process of starting a regime to be more fit? Yes. Did I eat Oreos after the kids went to bed? Also yes. It’s okay to want to get more fit. But love yourself in the process. So what if my stomach stuck out a little more than I’d prefer? I wanted to wear the damn dress! Ultimately, I adopted a new mantra I adapted from my friends at the US Postal Service - if it zips, it fits. Amen.
