Laura Whitmore recently had her second baby, and posted a mirror selfie in her postpartum underwear, with a light knitted cardigan draped over her shoulders, showing her post-birth body, and joking that "hot girl summer looks a bit different."
In the caption she shared with her 1.4 million followers, she wrote "I’ve never been more impressed or appreciative of my body than during and post pregnancy. Don’t even talk to me about birth. Women are bloody superheroes."
I loved reading this, because as an older Gen X women I appreciate seeing this younger generation of women (at 41, Laura is on the cusp of midlife) showing early motherhood as it really is. Not the rose-tinted version that my generation projected. I know that some women my age are guilty of using blanket terms such as - ‘snowflake’ when it comes to millennials or complaining that they like to ‘overshare’ but I think it’s vitally important to make women feel more supported in early motherhood.
Rewind to when I had my first baby, which was 13 years ago, and I was already feeling wretched as I’d had a traumatic birth, lost a lot of blood ,and was struggling to breastfeed. I remember venturing outside for the first time and an elderly neighbour shouted across the road, "HEY WHEN IS THE BABY DUE?!" and I realised that my tummy was the same size as it had been pre-birth. Instead of making me feel OK about that fact, the neighbour cackled when I said my baby was inside the house (I really think they should have apologised).
Later that same week I went for a walk and another woman (also older) came up to me and tried to cover my post-birth tummy with my cardigan. She said I "shouldn’t be out yet" and I remember experiencing this strong feeling of shame. My body was no longer something to admire, because it was just fat and had no baby inside. Not only was I knackered, and entirely discombobulated, but I was expected to have a body that had snapped back into its non-pregnant form.
Also when I talked to friends who had already had kids, they were suddenly forthcoming on how difficult birth was, how it was unlikely that I’d sleep, and how my vagina would never be the same. 'Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?' I thought. Of course they didn’t want to scare me, but there was also this sense that you just got on with it, and didn’t complain, that you told new mums that it was amazing and precious and to ‘enjoy this time’ instead.
The parenting books of the time were very much about getting babies into strict routines and sleep schedules as soon as possible, almost bypassing the idea that mum might be struggling too (friends recommended Gina Ford who did sleep training that was military in its approach, but didn’t seem to mention that mums might burst into tears every day for a month after giving birth). I often felt isolated, like I couldn’t really talk to anyone and as night approached I got this impending sense of doom. If I scanned social media, I didn’t really see much to reassure me either.
What I love about photos like Laura Whitmore in her Frida Mom pants is that it helps to shape a new narrative around motherhood - we don’t just snap back, we don’t just start wearing tiny pants, we definitely don’t feel ‘hot girl summer’ either. It takes time for our bodies to go back to how they were; sometimes they never do, and I carried the post-baby weight for a year after having my first child.
I wish that I’d seen a social media post like Laura’s post then, and realised it was foolish to feel ashamed of the incredible things my body had done giving birth. That it was perfectly OK to have a round tummy. To wear big comfy pants (I wore my MUMMY PANTS for at least a year after giving birth, but felt like I should have been going back into my regular, smaller underwear, like I’d failed to be disciplined enough to get back into shape).
Back in 2013, social media was awash with images of mothers who seemed to have miraculously returned to their pre-motherhood bodies, and were out and about having fun. As I was part of a mum influencer gang, I remember attending an event, and a mum who had literally given birth the previous week was there. She brought the tiny baby with her - the mum wearing heels, a tight dress and full face of make up. I was in awe of course but there was also part of me that was frustrated that an appearance like this just made other mums feel like they were abnormal for staying in a dressing gown for 6 weeks or not washing their hair (I had an unhealthy co-dependency on Batiste dry shampoo in those early days).
Laura still looks gorgeous, but at least she’s acknowledging that her body has changed and is also encouraging women to see their bodies as more than eye-candy for the opposite sex. I also feel like millennial women are far more open, about their mental health postpartum. Chrissy Teigen for example was honest about her postpartum depression after the birth of her daughter Luna, saying she didn't recognise she was feeling PND: "I just didn't know that there was any other way to feel… I thought it was very natural to be in this low, low point.” Adele also told Vanity Fair she had "really bad postpartum depression" after having her son and said "it frightened me" - she added that she was also reluctant to talk to anyone about it.
Gen X women haven’t always been great at opening up about the complex feeling of motherhood. I feel like perhaps we’re stuck between the stiff upper lip/jgrit your teeth tendencies of Boomers, and the more emotionally open and honest sharing of Millennials.
When my daughters ask me what having a baby is like I try, and be as authentic as I can. I don’t want to scare them, but I also want them to feel OK if they’re depressed, overwhelmed and feeling crap. "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”I say about early motherhood, borrowing the iconic words of Charles Dickens,
And motherhood continues to be great and also not so great, like all human experiences. It is certainly never perfect and one of the biggest, heaviest things is having too high expectations of what it will be like and the types of parents we’ll be. I love the way younger, millennial women are not only showcasing the best. Not always gritting their teeth and feeling the shame. The more we demystify early motherhood, the better.
