I never gave much thought to cosmetic surgery. Mostly because I never had much reason to consider it, that was until I had kids. Cliché I know but I didn’t fully appreciate how much my tummy would resemble a rhino’s arse. I don’t need to explain what the belly button is.
With my first, I had too much amniotic fluid therefore, unless I could have added Lycra to my skin composition, it was beyond repair. But hey ho, I loved being a new mum and this was part of the deal. I did have to consciously ignore the French mama in my ante natal group who was in a belly top just two weeks after giving birth. I thought I was looking good having taken in the elastic waistband on my maternity jeans by two button holes.
Gradually, as my tummy tried to regain some of its former glory I noticed that the consultant hadn’t matched my stretch marks up after my emergency C-section. When I had my third he didn’t find it relevant when asked if I had any complications with the first or concerns. He told me, regrettably, that he was unable to ‘line them up’.
I did start to think that after my fourth and last baby (number two was born asleep sadly) that maybe I would consider surgery to pull back the skin and excavate my belly button. It seemed like it might be the best option until I read some scary tales of failed cosmetic surgeries. I thought, hmm unless it is life threatening, then I figured I wouldn’t put myself through the stress. Painkillers would have been fun but not worth the tucking and poking.
So now, I try to say I’m happy with myself. The best I can do is to accept my saggy tummy. I do appreciate that my tummy sags for a beautiful reason but then I remember lots of mums have lovely tummies and more kids than me. I do think I would be a bit happier with a smaller tummy –superficial I know. However, for me the closest I will get to a tummy tuck is when I tuck it all into my trousers on a daily basis!