Postpartum Belllies

 

I confess that I hate my postpartum belly. The stretch marks are uneven and lumpy, and the skin sags with a strange elasticity. My belly feels like it’s not part of my body, as if my original belly was ripped off and replaced with this one.

Postpartum bellies are rarely seen in public. Most portrayals are sanitized, and are not representative of the reality of what we live with. Every postpartum belly that is shared with me for this series shocks me. The stories behind each belly is an avalanche of intensely personal emotions.

These stories are represented by the physicality of my painting process: pulling out uneven, fleshy highlights with erasers and brushes from a surface of soot. I chop up the wood panels and lick them with delicate flames.  I scratch aggressively with knives and sandpaper. Pyrography marks scorch the surface, adding elements of negative space like a sculptural relief.

See my process here.

Jen: This is the body I have and I love it. YET, I have these long stripey claw marks all over my midsection from childbirth and weight gained in response to trauma and health issues. It looks like I was attacked by this savage beast we call life. I find it both beautiful and tragic, a testament to both my strengths and weaknesses.
N: My belly carries the memory of carrying two beautiful babies…it will never be the same, and neither will I. Our culture is obsessed with smooth perfection. But life is the opposite of smooth. It’s the opposite of boring. My belly tells a story, and I love it.
T: I’ve had a complicated relationship with my stomach for most of my life. I spent a long time trying to make it be different – flatter, firmer, etc – through dieting or exercise. I think pregnancy was the first time I got to feel comfortable with my belly, because it was now housing this human and my stomach protruding was the way it was supposed to look. I didn’t want to pass on my body insecurities to my kids, so I’ve worked hard to have a more neutral/positive/accepting relationship with it since becoming a parent.
Clara: On my stomach, it feels like there is an abrupt shift from the “normal” part of my body and where the postpartum folds begin. In my mind, it really does feel like my stomach before birth was ripped off, and then replaced with these saggy folds and lumpy skin. For me this action feels violent and one an aspect of birth I was not prepared for.
Amaryllis: I was a belly dancer in my youth. I was deeply connected with my stomach, able to make it roll, wave, undulate and vibrate with my muscle control. At 27 I got pregnant with my daughter and gained 42 lbs. I was all belly. I had to have an emergency c-section to save my daughters life. I screamed as they cut me open as they rush. It wasn’t pretty but my baby was safe and healthy. It left me with a big scar, a lot of scar tissue, some stretch marks, and a torn muscle. My stomach doesn’t look or feel the same as it did once, and I do miss that stomach, but she was worth every bit of it.
P: Everyday, when I look down at my body, I am reminded of my traumatic pregnancies; I’m also reminded everyday of the miraculous wonderment of pregnancies and birth when I look at my teenagers’ faces.
Clara: I don’t think I would ever go through with a tummy tuck to “fix” it, but the thought has crossed my mind more than a few times. Any surgery scares me, that’s enough for me to not do it, ever. But, I still yearn daily for a flat belly that doesn’t sag or bulge.
G: Before I had children, I was pretty thin. After having two boys, my stomach was never the same. The stretch marks and the deformed shape never went away. I have no regrets regarding my children, but I guess I wasn’t prepared for what toll it would have on my body.
Clara: I confess that I hate my stomach. Every time I look in the mirror, all I see is uneven lumps and skin that stretches in this strange, otherworldly way. I’m always touching the skin because I feel like I still can’t believe this is part of me.
Clara: Sometimes the division between my “normal” body and my postpartum belly really feels this abrupt. Technically, I don’t have any numbness in my stomach. However, sometimes it feels like my postpartum stomach is not part of my body in a similar way.
N: My belly carries the memory of carrying two beautiful babies…it will never be the same, and neither will I. Our culture is obsessed with smooth perfection. But life is the opposite of smooth. It’s the opposite of boring. My belly tells a story, and I love it.
Clara: My postpartum stomach feels like it was torn apart, and then thrown together into a haphazard jumble of skin, misshapen lumps, and fleshy pieces. There is no logic to the structure of my stomach anymore, as a form it doesn’t make sense to me. Here there no obvious indication that the image is even a stomach, with fragments torn up and missing.