For me it is my belly. I am ashamed of it. I wear clothes that do not draw attention to it, and hide it as much as possible. I haven't worn a bikini, or 2-piece bathing suit since I was a little girl. I would never reveal my belly to anyone. I barely like my husband to look at it directly. The only time that I revelled in my belly was when I was pregnant. I loved how my belly felt and looked. It's as though my belly was made to be pregnant. Only when I'm pregnant have I been able to honor, bless, love my belly. There's an inherent problem with this though. No matter how many times you are pregnant, it is a temporary state of affairs! Plus, after you're pregnant - your belly is bigger, flabbier and more stretched out than ever.
I feel as though I have always been aware of my belly, even as a little girl. It has always felt fuller, more round as I write those words, I am aware of implied comparison. So, there it is. I have always compared my belly to other girls' bellies. I have felt bigger, rounder, not as flat. I feel like people always look at my belly first, and then my face. What is it about my belly?
I am remembering when I was pregnant with my first child. My belly is growing. I make sure that we have some pictures of my beautiful pregnant belly. I feel whole, beautiful and gorgeously feminine.
I am about 6 months pregnant, and I turn over in bed one night. I feel this searing pain right down the middle of my belly. Scared, I cradle my belly in my arms as I quietly lie on my side. I feel for my baby - is it moving? Is it okay? What just happened? I could feel the remnants of the pain on my belly - I knew it wasn't deep inside and it wasn't my uterus. Something tore or ripped in the container of my belly. From that night on, I would also cradle my belly in my arms, right hand over to the left side, left hand over to the right side, every time I would turn over in bed. I have done that for every subsequent pregnancy - I have 4 childen and my babies got exponentially larger with each pregnancy. Just to give you an idea, my first child was 6 pounds, 2 ounces, and my 4th child was 9 pounds, 10 ounces! I got lots of practice to develop a new habit of holding my belly to turn over, and I just did it. Even to this day, 20 years later, I still habitually turn over very aware of my belly and cradling it in my arms when I need to.
It turns out what happened is that I tore my "recti abdominus" muscle. This is the muscle that goes down the front of your abdomen and has an area in the middle of it that has a ligament attaching the 2 halves. That night I tore this muscle in half, and I am sure with each subsequent pregnancy, the tear become longer and more pronounced.
What I am struck by is that it never occurred to me to heal it or bring it back together. No one ever suggested that either. I was told that I couldn't do certain exercises, and that I had to hold my belly when I did certain strengthening exercises in yoga or Pilates. So this is what I did. It was something I had to deal with, so I did. I just figured that this was something I had to put up, and deal with for the rest of my life. Even more, I would actually forget that I had it. It became just the way it was. This is how my body is. Until somebody would look at my belly first before they looked at my face. Or would ask me when I was due. I would feel such shame and rage. What is wrong with my belly? What is wrong with me? I'm not pregnant...how dare you assume that? I realize now that I had no idea that the split in this muscle had such an impact on my body and how it looked, and how I felt.
Here I am 20 years after my first pregnancy and nearly 9 years after my 4th pregnancy. And only in the past couple of years has it even occurred to me that I could do something about it. A friend of mine, Sharon, had breast reduction surgery nearly 2 years ago, and I accompanied her to the doctor's office for all of the appointments. She even stayed at our house during the recuperation period right after the surgery. Ever since then, she has been imploring me to look into "abdomnioplasty" - a surgery where they go in and stitch up the tear in the belly and then also tuck the tummy and remove the excess stretched out skin.
And out of a commitment and intention, moving starts to happen.
Another friend, Yevett, has been in the process of becoming certified as a Pilates instructor. She needed a client with whom to practice her Pilates instruction, so she offered me free private Pilates lessons for 3 times a week for 5 months! Wow, I thought. This is it. This is how I will heal the split. How can I not? Private Pilates lessons 3 times a week for 5 months. What a gift! I was so grateful and excited. It truly felt like a divine gift from the Universe. So we started working together right after the New Year, 3 times a week. She knew about the split and knew that my intention was to heal it and bring it together. 1 month went into 2 months went into 3 months, and we weren't progressing through the series of exercises like she needed to for her certification requirements. We did a lot of great foot work, but I couldn't do most of the exercises. The place where one needs to move from - the upper core gathering spot just below the sternum is at the top of the split. There was nothing to gather because my muscle was split. Yevett knew about the split, but until one morning in March, she had never felt it. It was an idea. So one day, I asked her to touch it. Her response was,"Oh my gosh. You really do have a split. I had no idea that it was that big."
Uh, duh...isn't that what I have been telling you?
Yet her reaction made the split more real. I began to understand in that moment that I really do have a split that affects what I can do and how I do things. All these years I thought that there was something inherently wrong with ME - that I wasn't strong enough, or doing it right, that there was something wrong about me and who I am. In that moment, I felt that it wasn't me that was wrong, bad and ugly. I realized that I have this split in the muscles of my belly that directly impacts and affects what I do, how I do it and how I feel about myself and my body.
Yevett talked with her teachers about me and the split, and they all said that the only way to "fix" it was to have surgery. Really? Surgery...I had been hoping for another option. I really don't want to have surgery. But, I decided to be open and explore the possibilities more deeply.
About a month after that, out of a conversation with my friend Sharon, who had the breast reduction surgery, I went down with her to have an official consultation with the doctor to explore this option. Over the winter, I had researched the procedure online, and even viewed the surgery being performed on YouTube. I wanted to know what I was getting myself into. There is nothing minor about this surgery, except that at least they don't cut through the abdominal wall. There is an 18 inch scar just above the pubic hair line and 3 layers of stitches to pull the split together, and I am told that you walk around bent over for several weeks after the surgery.
Okay. Good to know. I am not someone who has ever had surgery, or who takes any kind of prescription medications. I use natural and alternative methods for healing and stay very clear of the medical world. So to even consider this is a polar opposite from what I normally choose. But I had made a commitment to be open, and more importantly, I had made a commitment to "heal the split." So I decided I would seriously take this on as an option and see where the movement would take me.
Until tomorrow.
Suseya,
Sahara
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