Megan MacTurk (32 - she/her) and Kieran (19 mo)
How has parenthood impacted your body image?
For most, if not all, of my life, I was considered “skinny” by society’s standards, which meant I had a level of privilege when it came to body image - and my family never let me forget it. I grew up hearing a lot of comments from other women in my family, such as, “I’ve never been that small in my life,” Be happy that you didn’t inherit my body shape,” and “Enjoy eating whatever you want while it lasts,” along with other disparaging comments about their own body image. So, while I knew that I possessed privilege in this area, I also felt a level of guilt for having the body that I did and fear that, if it changed or got bigger, my self-worth would somehow diminish.
When my wife and I chose to use medical assistance to help us get pregnant, I was put on fertility medication and after a failed round of IVF with our first donor, my body was left bruised and bloated. But, once I became pregnant, I really loved how I looked as my belly grew and had extreme gratitude for my body and its ability to grow another human without any serious complications. I promised myself that, after I gave birth, I would be patient with my body and not put pressure on myself to lose weight or “bounce back.”
Then, a major injury occurred weeks after giving birth that left me immobile for three months, which impacted my weight and strength. Now, 19 months after giving birth, I’m struggling to balance the gratitude I have for my body, while also feeling like I’m not in my own body anymore. Discovering my new identity as a mother has also meant discovering this new body that came with it. I’m so proud that I grew life, was able to give birth without medication, and worked hard to heal after my injury.
It’s important to me that my daughter grows up with a healthy body image, and my wife and I will be the models of that. I’m trying to give myself the time and space to reflect on my relationship with my body image throughout my life and the subconscious pressures I felt growing up, along with the new pressures society places on postpartum bodies.
What was your postpartum experience?
Between childbirth classes and the knowledge our doula shared with us, my wife and I felt mostly prepared for life after childbirth. I knew that I would be limiting physical activity as my body recovered, my wife would be taking care of the needs around the house, and my job was to rest and provide nourishment for our baby. But I wasn’t prepared for how that would impact my mental and emotional health. My daughter’s elbow got stuck as I was pushing her out, which resulted in a unique tear – I’ll never forget hearing the midwife say, “Wow, she really dug a rut in you,” as she sewed me up. I was in a lot of pain and discomfort. Walking looked like waddling, I couldn’t stand up without help, and using the restroom was terrifying. I despised my lack of independence. Between healing, the postpartum hormonal changes, and the new reality of parenthood, I spent a lot of time questioning myself and my abilities.
It took 6 weeks until I began feeling like myself again, physically and emotionally. The tear was finally healed, the baby was exclusively breastfeeding, and I truly felt like I was starting to get the hang of being at home with this new little life. Then, when my daughter was 7 weeks old, I tripped while carrying her and fell. Luckily, I was able to hold onto her as we stumbled, and she didn’t fall out of my arms until we landed. Even though we were already close to the ground, I’ll never forget the sight and sound of watching her little body hit the floor, and her immediate wails. As we fell, I felt my ankle breaking. I had broken all three bones and tore the ligament in my left ankle. My ankle is now held together by two plates, 11 screws, and a prosthetic ligament.
We immediately moved in with my mom, where we had help from her, my mother-in-law, and other family and friends. We stayed there for over 3 months as I recovered. I was immobile for quite some time and needed help doing absolutely everything, including bathing and getting on and off of the toilet. The frustration I felt when needing help after giving birth was now tenfold. On top of that, I felt helpless as a parent. Our daughter cried a lot in her first few months, and nursing was sometimes the only thing that helped soothe her. However, I was on much-needed pain medication, which prevented me from breastfeeding. Suddenly, I was writing in pain from my broken bones, while also desperately trying to pump to keep my milk in. Hearing my new baby scream from hunger and frustration, and not being able to do anything about it, broke my heart. I tried getting her to breastfeed again once I was off of the medication with the help of a lactation consultant. I was waking up every 2 hours to pump for 30 minutes at a time, we did skin-to-skin time again, and my mother-in-law even drove us to a breastfeeding support group while I was still on crutches to help get her back on the breast. I had looked forward to breastfeeding while pregnant, and I expected to breastfeed for some time; I wasn’t prepared to have that taken away so soon and so suddenly. But, after barely two weeks being bottle-fed and a month of trying to rebuild our breastfeeding relationship, my daughter had given clear signs that she was not going to be returning to breastfeeding, and I dedicated myself to pumping as frequently as I could.
While my wife and I were extremely thankful that our daughter wasn’t hurt in the accident and for all of the help we received during that time, those three months were extremely difficult for our family. We went through so much to get our daughter here, and then we felt like we missed out on so many parenting experiences during my recovery time. I had to relearn how to be a stay-at-home parent with limited mobility. I also developed anxiety about Kieran’s safety and well-being after we fell, which I’m still dealing with today. After having one of my worst fears as a parent come true, it made me realize how many things could “go wrong” at any moment. While most of the physical impacts of the accident are faded, the mental and emotional ones are still very present.
What is your truth that you'd pass along to your former self, or a new parent?
Parenting is weird. Suddenly, you’re responsible for this little life and the weight of that often times feels unbearable and overwhelming. For a period of time, you’re consumed with the bodily functions of another person, while possibly going through major bodily changes yourself. Be gentle with yourself.
Fuck what other people tell you; everybody is the perfect parent until they’re actively parenting. It’s ok to not be ok, truly. While our society puts so much pressure on people to stay pregnant and give birth, very little support and understanding is often afforded to those just born and those who gave birth or are a new parent. But you deserve that support and understanding. Even more so, you deserve the love.
Pay close attention to how you speak to yourself. If you wouldn’t say it to your child, don’t say it to yourself. We’re always teaching, even when we don’t realize it. Oh, and whether you need to hear this or not: you're doing great.
Why did you choose to participate in this movement and share your story?
As a queer parent, and as somebody who went through a physical trauma during my postpartum experience that left residual emotional and mental scars, I appreciate the many different voices represented in this movement. Parenthood can feel very isolating, especially with false portrayals on social media. But I appreciate people bearing it all (literally and figuratively) in this movement and sharing their experiences because it has allowed me to connect to their stories. For me, it builds a sense of community that I didn’t even know I needed, even though I don’t know any of these people personally. Seeing bodies that look like mine and that have been through similar experiences as mine has helped me reconnect with my own body.