Pregnancy alters many aspects of a woman’s shape. Some, we’re prepared for. We’ve all heard stories of sagging and flabbing, so while we may fight against the odds, we also come to accept the possibility. The more confident amongst us even find strength and beauty in what their weight carried, wearing their 9 months of stretched skin with pride. While I can’t say I’m thrilled with the body I’ve acquired these years post-pregnancy, I am in awe of it. In both good and bad ways.
But it’s the other changes of a less physical nature. The kind that no one bothers mentioning ahead of time, making it your very own personal surprise.
Like underarm body odor.
Before my first full-term pregnancy with Jedi, I never had to wear deodorant. I would at times, for an extra measure of protection, but it wasn’t a necessity. I swear, they just didn’t smell. It was a blessed thing in hindsight. Because since, if I should fail to remember to apply deodorant, I’m immediately reminded of my blunder come one raised arm later when the depths of a burning stench, not unlike a skunk in a mode of defense, tries to escape. In other words, I stink. And God help us all.
There is no beauty in body odor.
Now, with the heat of summer comes sweat. And with the first bead of sweat comes an aroma all my own. Where every time I catch a nose-cringing whiff of myself, I’m once again reminded of the eternal joys of pregnancy.