Menu
Parenting
Go Ahead, Take a Look at My Belly
by Lisa Thompson
Updated: Jan. 11, 2016
Originally Published: Aug. 2, 2015
Recently, while running errands, I bumped into an old mom friend I hadn’t seen for ages. It was refreshing to have a conversation with an adult for a change. As we chatted, I turned to pick up a toy my child had dropped, and when I faced her again, I sensed it—the Belly Gaze.
I’m familiar with the Belly Gaze. After having six children, my body is, shall we say, a bit stretched. And I’m carrying more weight than usual thanks to a metabolism that seems to have hit a wall. I know how I look, and I’m well aware of the stares. But it still catches me off guard when I notice someone sizing up my midsection, assuming I’m unaware.
I don’t hold it against them, really. They’re probably just trying to figure out if my belly is simply a result of my big family or if there’s another little one on the way. My friend, Sarah, is one of the kindest people I know. She hadn’t seen me in a while, and I know she was just trying to gauge the situation without asking directly. I’ve been there too; we all have.
But there’s something about that gaze that hits differently. When I notice it, I have a moment of realization: I do, in fact, resemble someone who might be expecting. My instinct is to suck in my stomach a bit (though, let’s be honest, it barely moves). That familiar wave of embarrassment washes over me, and I feel a twinge of regret that my belly isn’t more straightforward. I can’t help but think that this is my new reality—always being the subject of curiosity about whether my family is complete or if I’m still in the process of expanding it.
I have a complex relationship with my belly. On one hand, it’s large, wobbly, and makes finding clothes a challenge. I can feel the gazes on me when I’m out with my family, people counting our kids and then landing their eyes on my midsection, trying to decipher if we’re done having kids or still have more to come.
Yet, on the flip side, my belly has done some incredible things. It has literally been cut open while I was awake to bring two human beings into the world. That fact still astounds me! It has nourished and nurtured six beautiful children. It deserves accolades and recognition, not just for its size but for what it represents. My unique, jiggly belly is a badge of honor, a daily reminder of the six kind, loving individuals I brought into this world. It has served its purpose wonderfully, and it deserves my appreciation.
So I let my belly relax a little, and I take a deep breath. I’m grateful for the role it played in my children’s early lives—as the very first place they felt warmth, safety, and love. I forgive it for spilling over my waistband and for the little inconveniences it brings.
And I promise it yoga pants—forever and always.
If you’re curious about home insemination, check out this post for more information. If you’re looking for more resources on pregnancy week by week, the March of Dimes offers fantastic insights. Also, for those considering home insemination kits, visit Make a Mom for expert guidance.
In summary, my belly tells a story filled with love, growth, and the beautiful chaos of motherhood. It may not always be the figure I envisioned, but it represents so much more than that—a journey of nurturing life.