I am the Matron of Honor in my sister’s wedding coming up in April and it is coming up quickly. All of a sudden, it’s only a little over two months away and I need to get my dress fitted. Of course, being 7 months postpartum, my old strapless bra and shapewear don’t fit well anymore. To be honest, I was overdue to buy new bras even before I had a kid. So, I packed up Little Man today. In hindsight, today was a terrible day to take Little Man shopping. He got his flu booster shot yesterday so he was a little fussier than usual, not to mention I don’t know my new postpartum size either so it wasn’t going to be a quick in and out trip. So, it probably wasn’t a good idea to go today when all he’d had was a crappy half-hour nap, but it was the only time I really could go this week.

Walking into the intimates section, pushing Little Man in the stroller, I was overwhelmed and quickly realized how daunting it was going to be to figure out what size I needed. Little Man did not last long in his stroller and it wasn’t long before I was holding him and browsing the racks, pushing an empty stroller. I pulled a bunch of shapewear off the racks in large thinking that was my size after looking at the little size chart of the tags. I carried Little Man into the fitting room and put him back in his stroller to try everything on. Nope. He started to cry. But I couldn’t hold him while I tried things on so I did what any good parent does in that situation; I put on his favorite channel on YouTube for him to watch. Bingo! It worked! So, with that crisis averted, I turned my attention to the shapewear and started with the first one. I could not get it over my hips so I went to the next one and on it went. With each passing garment, I became more ashamed of my body: of my wider hips, the pregnancy weight I haven’t lost yet, and the stretch marks. In that moment, staring at myself in the mirror with the shapewear stuck around my knees, I resented my postpartum body.

I put my clothes back on and took Little Man back out to the intimates section to get the bigger size. I hated that I had to go up to an extra-large. I wanted my pre-pregnancy body back so badly in that moment. I grabbed more shapewear and brought Little Man back to the same fitting room. Again, I tried to sit him in his stroller with YouTube. That bought me enough time to undress and try the first shapewear on. Then, he started screaming. I tried a different video. Nope. Okay, new plan: I tried laying him down on the ground on my sweatshirt. Nope. He screamed louder. I could hear a man on the other side of the door. I was convinced he was judging my parenting. I stared at myself in the mirror, down to bra and underwear with shapewear on that fit but didn’t compress my belly as much as I thought it would. In that moment, I was miserable. I felt like a failure in every aspect. I felt fat and ugly. I felt like a terrible mom. I was angry at myself, my body for not bouncing back after pregnancy. I was angry at society’s expectation that we bounce back after pregnancy. I was angry that fat rolls are adorable on a baby, but my fat? Nope, we need to hide that behind shapewear when wearing a dress because God forbid I don’t look like I belong on a runway. God forbid I look like a mom who had a baby less than a year ago.

I ended up leaving Kohls, miserable, depressed, angry. Little Man screamed in my arms the whole way out. I even had left all the shapewear in a pile in the dressing room, wanting to just escape the whole ordeal as quickly as possible. I cried in the car alongside my son. I don’t know why he was so upset, but I mourned my old body and I cursed at society. I ended up taking him through the car wash to help him calm down and to give me a couple of minutes where I could ignore the rest of the world outside of the car.

Four and a half hours later, with my husband at home with my son, I went back to Kohls in a much better mindset. I immediately grabbed the extra larges and I started trying different brands. I ended up finding one that I was really comfortable in but felt a little loose. I was able to go down to a large in that brand. I also managed to find two new bras that I enjoyed on top of the strapless bra I had to buy. This time, there were no tears. There was no shame in my body as I struggled to pull the shapewear over my hips. This time, I was kind to myself. I gave myself the compassion that I should have shown myself earlier because my body isn’t the same as it was two years ago or however long ago I last bought shapewear (five years maybe?) nor should it be the same. I can’t get back to my pre-pregnancy body anymore because that doesn’t exist. My hips expanded to accommodate birthing a baby. My stomach stretched and grew to accommodate a growing little body for nine months. My heart grew to house the unconditional love I have for my little man even on the days he is fussy. And if I have to remain a size bigger forever because I created another human who smiles when I walk into the room and giggles when I sneeze, then so be it. I’ll learn to love this new me and I’ll start by being kinder to myself.