Dear Me, You’re Not Broken
Ten months postpartum, and I’m still circling back to… me.
I caught myself in the hallway mirror recently — baby on one hip, diaper bag threatening to slip off the other — and for once, I didn’t sigh, suck in, or avert my eyes. I just looked. Not to judge, but to listen.
How does my body feel today?
Where does it ache?
What’s it trying to tell me?
Turns out, tuning in takes more effort than tuning out.
And it’s worth it.
This week, let’s take a slow, forgiving look at our postpartum bodies — not to fix or fuss, but to check in with kindness.
It’s not about “snapping back” (who even started that nonsense?).
It’s about gratitude, gentleness, and reminding ourselves that this body — this incredible, milk-stained, stretch-marked, still-recovering body — is doing its best.
And that’s more than enough.
Phase 1: Physical Recovery Is Not Linear
(and That’s Okay)
First things first: You’ve made a whole human. You’ve carried that human, nourished that human, and probably had your insides rearranged by said human.
Then birthed that human.
Then (likely) became the 24/7 life support system for that human.
And now, every time you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, there’s a little flicker: Is this me?
No wonder you’re still tired.
Medical experts like ACOG and the Mayo Clinic remind us that full physical recovery from childbirth can take months — sometimes over a year.
That initial 6–8 week check-up isn’t the finish line; it’s the starting block.
Your hormones are still shifting.
Your muscles are still adjusting.
Your internal organs are still slowly slinking back into position like tired party guests after a long night.
Remember that weird twinge in your back?
The sore hips from nursing at 3 a.m.?
That surprise sneeze-pee moment?
Totally normal. (Ask me how many towels I’ve sacrificed.)
Pelvic floor recovery, for example, can take months — and yes, pelvic therapy or gentle Kegels help.
But please talk to your doctor before adding anything new to your routine.
As for weight?
Honestly, I shed 7 kg the moment my son was born (baby + placenta + mystery fluids), then… plateaued.
And that’s okay.
Women’s Health and FamilyDoctor.org stress the importance of gradual, nourishing recovery.
Crash diets? Nope.
You’re healing, not hustling for swimsuit season.
Fuel your body like the warrior it is — and keep those forgiving elasticated waist airy palazzos close.
Pro tip from my own survival manual: stretching counts as self-care. So do naps, heat packs, and dancing with your toddler to old Bollywood songs.
Movement doesn’t need to be aesthetic; it just needs to feel good.
Phase 2: Body Image — From “Snap Back” to “I’m Still Here”
Somewhere around the 6-week mark, I found myself spiraling through Instagram bikini selfies with captions like “5 weeks postpartum 💪.”
I was in the middle of leaking through a nursing pad and wondering if I’d ever fit into my favorite jeans again.
Comparison, as they say, is the thief of joy.
And in the postpartum haze, it’s practically grand larceny.
Here’s what helped me ground myself: looking at my body like a map of my motherhood.
The faint stretch marks? My baby’s first sketches.
The softer belly? A safe home for 9 whole months.
The scar from my C-section? A badge of strength and survival.
Experts agree: postpartum bodies often shift permanently.
Your hips might stay wider, your chest might look different, your skin might stretch in places it never has before. And instead of mourning those changes, we can try to marvel at them.
Slowly. Gently. With deep breaths.
These days, when I catch myself muttering “Ugh, my arms,” I try to reroute.
I say, “These arms carried my daughter for hours when she was colicky.”
It sounds cheesy, I know, but it works.
You don’t have to love your body every moment. But you can respect it.
You can appreciate its efforts.
You can whisper “thank you” after every long day.
Phase 3: Emotional Waves & Gentle Buoys
The emotional rollercoaster of postpartum life doesn’t end after the “fourth trimester.”
I still have days where a spilled cup of milk sends me into a teary tailspin.
Sometimes, the weight of parenting, healing, and being everything to everyone becomes too much.
And that’s not weakness — that’s being human.
I once cried into a pile of unfolded laundry because I couldn’t find a matching baby sock. My husband walked in and offered chai, which was heroic, but what I really needed was permission — to feel, to collapse, to not have it all together.
Emotional regulation is a key part of postpartum health.
Hormonal fluctuations, sleep deprivation, and identity shifts all play a role.
If you’re feeling persistently sad, anxious, or numb — please reach out. Postpartum depression is common and treatable.
But also, remember: you don’t have to hit rock bottom to ask for help, or a break.
My mindfulness mantra lately?
This too shall pass.
Not in a dismissive way — in a hopeful way.
This leaky, loud, unpredictable phase will soften.
It already is softening… One messy day at a time.
Embracing the New You
(While Missing the Old One)
Here’s the truth that no one talks about enough—you’re not who you were before, and that’s okay.
Scratch that—it’s not just okay, it’s extraordinary.
Pregnancy, birth, sleepless nights, C-section stitches, leaky boobs, stretchy skin, backaches, sagging bits, mental fog… they don’t just change your schedule—they rewrite your biology.
Your brain chemistry changes after becoming a mother. Your physical body shifts in places you didn’t even know could shift.
You feel different because, neurologically, emotionally, hormonally—you are different.
And guess what?
That doesn’t mean you’ve lost yourself.
It means you’ve grown into a new version—one with superpowers like knowing the exact decibel of your baby’s cry in a crowded room, and surviving days on crumbs and coffee with the strength of a thousand suns.
But if you’re grieving the “old me,” you’re not alone.
We all have those moments—scrolling through old selfies, remembering how that dress used to fit, how our energy felt, how our minds worked before we started answering to “Mumma.”
Missing that version of yourself doesn’t make you ungrateful. It makes you human.
And here’s the magic: you can absolutely get some of her back, if that’s what you want.
Your body is healing.
Your mind is adjusting.
Be patient.
Give her time.
Give her grace.
She’s still in there—just wiser, stronger, and equipped with the kind of grit that only motherhood can gift you.
So the next time you stand in front of the mirror, don’t look for flaws.
Look for evidence—of life, of love, of resilience.
You’re not lost, mama. You’re layered. You’re not broken, mama.
You’re becoming.
Three Mini Mindful Practices for Your Mom Body
You don’t need 30 minutes of quiet meditation to start reconnecting with your body.
Try these tiny but mighty check-ins:
1. Belly Breaths
Place your hand on your belly (or your baby’s, if they’re snuggled up).
Inhale slowly.
Exhale even slower.
Do this 3 times.
That’s it. That’s presence.
2. Body Thank-Yous
While brushing your teeth or folding laundry, thank one part of your body for what it did today.
“Thank you, hands, for those 14 diaper changes.”
“Thank you, legs, for rocking the baby for 45 straight minutes.”
3. Judgment Swap
Caught a negative thought? (“Ugh, look at this belly…”)
Pause.
Reframe.
“This belly carried life. And fed life. And still cuddles life at 2 a.m.”
Boom! Mic drop!
Write these on sticky notes.
Set a phone reminder.
Let them anchor your day.
From One Mama to Another
Mama, you’re in the messy middle.
Ten months is still postpartum.
Still real.
Still hard.
You’re healing while holding,
rebuilding yourself while building your family.
Some days you’ll feel strong and graceful.
Other days, not so much.
But every day, your body is showing up.
Every day, it’s doing enough.
Let’s stop waiting to “feel like ourselves again.”
Let’s start recognizing that this version of us — the tired, tender, tiger-striped one — is still worthy of awe.
Still capable.
Still you.
…
See you next Monday for our next dose of Mindful Mama magic, when we’ll talk about decluttering your headspace (because the laundry pile is enough, thank you very much).
Until then, sip your chai slowly, stretch when you can, and give your beautiful body the grace it deserves.
With all the good juju,
—Mama-in-Chief
Bonus Reading:
- FamilyDoctor.org – Recovering from Delivery
- Mayo Clinic – Postpartum Care
- UPMC Health – Pelvic Floor Recovery
- Women’s Health – Body Changes After Baby
- Women’s Health – Postpartum Depression
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