Getting ready for work this morning I tried on two pairs of smart trousers in preparation for an important meeting but couldnt do the zip up on either of them. Usually at work I wear stretchy jeans or jeggings and loose jumpers to cover up and today after finally squeezing into the third pair I am left very aware of my oversized tummy from when I was pregnant. 

It is not that this is my first time noticing my protruding belly, in fact every day I am conscious of it particularly when showering or dressing in front of the mirror but to avoid getting carried away somewhere in my thoughts I will try to think about something else.

Recently though and on a day like today my tummy somehow kept my gaze for longer and I feel like I want to exercise and watch what I eat as I don’t want to look fat or be unhealthy. I also feel insecure at times when I don’t feel attractive in my clothes. This situation has not been helped by the many evenings of comfort eating through times of grief and when I grab yet another chocolate bar to help ease the pain.

My husband thankfully accepts me and tells me that he loves me just as I am (I haven’t been teeny tiny slim anyway since knowing him and he prefers a curvy figure which has always helped my self esteem) but I would want to do this for myself. 

However this urge to lose the pregnancy flab has not been my usual story these last few months so as I gaze down at my protuding belly bump I now find myself in a conflict of emotions.

For me, having a growing bump during pregnancy had been one of the most amazing experiences of my life. I had yearned for the day I would find out I was pregnant and when we finally conceived I couldn’t wait to see how my tummy would expand. As Chloe and Grace developed I was so excited to see a bit of a bump fairly early on and being twins the bump grew quickly. I was so proud of my bump and to be carrying my babies. I was disappointed a few times when people didn’t notice this on the tube to work and offer their seat but then I was super happy when they started to. 

I didn’t look in the mirror and wince at my figure or worry when I didn’t fit into my clothes. I loved wearing maternity wear that accentuated and celebrated my new curvylicious figure. This was what I had dreamt of for a long time. It was my time to flourish and blossom as a mum to be and my family and friends loved it too to see me so happy. 

Each week my husband would take a photo of me with my bump at various angles and in the same top so that I could later look back and see my bump progress. I would send these photos each time to my mum, dad and sister who were so excited to soon meet their first grandchildren and nieces.  I had planned to make a time lapse video once I gave birth and one day show my girls photos of when they were in mummy’s tummy. 

For the one time in my life I could be just as I was, I didn’t care about the extra pounds I put on or the shape I was becoming. I loved how I looked. This was who I was destined to be. 

Though I felt sick for at least 14 weeks, suffered heartburn, had uncomfortable stretchy pulls and pelvic pain to the point I struggled to walk, I loved my big growing bump.  My bump held my future family.

I knew that in November when my babies were meant to be born at 32 weeks by ceasarian section any remaining pregnancy bump would eventually go. I had learnt that breast feeding could help to lose weight. In my case perhaps initially I would breast pump so I could feed my babies through tubes for the first few weeks in neonatal care until they were strong enough to feed properly. Perhaps I would get fitter by walking lots in the park with them in the double buggy with other mums or just the busyness of being a twin mum would help me get back in shape. 

Yet it wouldn’t matter to me even if I ended up bottlefeeding or if it took some time to lose the weight, as having some post pregnancy flab was to be expected. I would have looked upon my two longed for girls and known it was worth it all just to have them alive in my life.

Of course I have no idea if any of this would have happened like this since these were mere dreams and I will not get to see them in reality.

When Chloe and Grace were stillborn in September not only was my heart grieving their loss and dealing with the trauma of giving birth to lifeless babies whose cry we wouldn’t hear, but my body continued through the usual physical motions as if my babies were still alive. Taking tablets to dry up my milk the day of their birth when I should have been nourishing my girls was the most tragic and unnatural thing to do and went against every maternal instinct I had. Yet I knew it would have been even more devastating to have my milk come through without my babies.

When we said goodbye to our beautiful daughters just before the midwives took them to the cold room of the hospital to await their funeral, my bump was still visible. It was not as pronounced as it had been carrying twins at 24 weeks (a bit like a 30 week single baby), but it was still a part of me and my journey with my babies that I dearly wanted to hold onto.

My uterus had to contract back to normal size so the midwife would visit to check I was healing properly and I bled heavily on and off for nearly 6 weeks. All sorts of things were happening to my body that were new to me as this was my first time. I was told that all of this was to be expected after birth but it was a gut wrenching reality to face with no babies to hold. 

At first I could not look at myself in the mirror without crying in despair as I realised my big bump was gone and that I would have to learn to accept the brutal truth that I was childless. Yet although over time my tummy reduced in size I still had a tiny bump.

My body yearned to hold Chloe and Grace close for weeks after. Sometimes I would hold a cushion and rock when I cried over them. I even held their tiny box of ashes next to my tummy the day we took them home after the funeral as that would be the closest I would get to carrying them again.  

I had gotten so used to protecting my large twin filled bump that for months after, I automatically went to pull my now much smaller tummy away from the kettle as I poured hot water into a cup in case it splashed and hurt them.

To look down then today at my little bump and to feel too tight in my smart trousers is so bitter sweet. For the last few months it has been a visible reminder of the heartache I have been through and the waves of grief that have followed. Yet at times it has been a comfort and is now the only physical sign on my body to show that my babies existed. 

I know I won’t ever forget them. They and the memories of those many joyous days carrying them will stay with me always. I also have their photos and their footprints to look at and the beautiful ring of their hearts entwined on my finger.

Yet to lose this bump I feel I will lose another little part of them.

So I go about my day and look forward to getting back into my loose trousers. I know I will need to decide soon on starting that exercise regime and cutting back on the chocolate but for now I hold my tiny bump that remains and think upon my two sweet girls. 

💗💗 xx