As soon as you conceive, your body undergoes significant changes, and there’s no escaping that reality. As your baby develops within you, you too expand. You become a vessel for another life. Just like no one wants to live in a cramped space, your little one craves room to grow. They take everything from you—your nutrients, your energy, and even your mental clarity. You willingly give it all up because love for that tiny being kicks in. Pregnancy is the first act of motherhood, a shift where your needs take a backseat and it’s all about the baby from that point forward.
This acceptance used to be commonplace; mothers knew they might never return to their pre-pregnancy bodies. It didn’t matter how fit you were before; pregnancy brings changes that some may never reverse. But then, the narrative shifted.
Suddenly, social media bombards us with images of celebrities like Mia Thompson and Lila Roberts who look “stunning” right after giving birth. Seriously, Mia? You’ve gotta be kidding me! It’s easy to forget that not everyone has a team of trainers and stylists. These portrayals make everyday moms feel inadequate, as if the monumental task of nurturing another human isn’t challenging enough. Now, on top of everything, we’re expected to look fabulous while doing it? It’s enough to make me want to pour another glass of wine—oh wait, I’ll just savor it.
Thus begins the exhausting cycle: Diet. Exercise. Beauty routines. Green smoothies. Yoga. Weight management programs. Just thinking about it makes me weary.
After my second baby, I decided to take up running. It was both tedious and tough. I wasn’t naturally inclined towards it, nor did I find joy in it. I “trained” for several months, barely completing two 5K races (okay, I mostly walked the second one), and then I quit as rapidly as I started.
Initially, I felt this pressure to get back in shape; I wanted to be a hot mom. Who wouldn’t? With all the media hype surrounding maternal beauty, I just desired to feel slim again. I wanted to escape the overwhelming exhaustion that comes with motherhood. Running seemed convenient since I couldn’t stretch my budget for classes or a gym membership—I needed something I could do with my baby in tow.
But then I stumbled across the concept of Babywearing Ballet, and I was completely floored.
Really? People actually do this?
I understand that some moms are passionate about babywearing, but honestly, I’m not one of them. When I wear my baby, it’s usually born out of necessity—not choice. It’s about soothing a fussy child when I have my hands full.
I am well aware that I need to get back into shape; I recognize that. I feel larger than life, and I looked better pregnant than I do now. I enjoy food and drinks way too much to remain sedentary. But let’s be real—carrying around my 19-pound baby doesn’t qualify as a workout.
The whole babywearing ballet idea leaves me baffled. If a mom is able to pay for a fitness class, can’t we just let her have an hour to herself? Just sixty minutes where she can drop the kid off at daycare and reclaim her own time? Why do we have to strap our babies onto our bodies, as if taking a moment for ourselves is utterly unacceptable?
I have friends who are in phenomenal shape—truly inspiring. They dedicate time and discipline to their fitness routines, but none of them are fresh postpartum. Their children are older, allowing them the luxury of time to focus on themselves. Maybe in three years, I could be like that too. {ah, wishful thinking}
I worry that this trend to include your baby in every activity is just a form of maternal brainwashing. Why would you pay a premium for a fitness class that doesn’t offer childcare? I won’t do it. It’s downright absurd. We’re told to look fit while balancing motherhood, but we have no time to achieve that on our own. “Look fabulous for cheap,” they say—an impossible feat. Those celebrity moms appear stunning because they invest heavily in their appearance.
With $20, I know what I can buy. Tacos. Yes, tacos.
For some insightful tips on parental leave, check out this post from our blog. And if you’re looking into home insemination, resources like this one are invaluable for pregnancy guidance.
Summary
This article expresses frustration about societal pressures on new mothers to quickly regain their pre-pregnancy bodies while caring for newborns. The author reflects on personal experiences with fitness and the unrealistic expectations set by media portrayals of celebrity mothers. The piece critiques fitness trends like babywearing ballet that seem to deny mothers their own time and space for self-care.