Postpartum Showers

Welcome to the Solidarity podcast,

where we share stories to connect with one another, find comfort in life’s challenges & to celebrate the solidarity that is..

being a woman.

I’m your host Riley Q.

I’m so excited to be back today with a short encouragement.  I will warn you that I’ve got my baby boy with me right now and so you may hear some baby noises in the background.

Like there, he just wants to make his voice heard.

I want to share something with you today that is a quick postpartum thought.  I feel like a lot of moms will relate.

I can hardly remember what it was like to shower before I stepped into earthly motherhood.

Soap running down my smooth, untampered skin.

Plenty of time to sing, shave myself hairless and bask in the hot water as I let myself relax.

Sometimes I even got to shower with my husband - which as we all know is actually far from romantic - but yet I find myself missing the ability to fight over the hot water with him.

Now I find myself racing the clock- or in actuality- my baby. He may be fed and happy when I get in but it’s like an alarm goes off when he knows I’m not in the room because within moments I hear his cries.

Now I’m not the kind of mom that is afraid to hear her baby cry- ya gotta shower, ya know? But it’s still not pleasant and of course I always want to meet his needs.

But I gotta get it done so I let the music drown out the noise of my husband trying to comfort him and I dream of the days where we could just hop in the shower and talk for an hour if we wanted to.

The soap runs down my now weathered body. It’s been through a war and back and it shows. 

I quickly shave trying to avoid the deep indents of the red lightning bolts that pepper my stomach and thighs and I get the bare minimum job done. If that.

Thank goodness for Billie razors that rarely knick because otherwise it’d be a bloody show. (And no not an advertisement they’re just as freaking good as everyone says they are I kick myself for not making the switch sooner. So seriously, do it.)

I quickly rinse off with one last sigh of the shower head and off I go to wrap my hair and call it a night.

I think I clocked it at 7 minutes- better than last time I suppose...

But I see something that stops me in my tracks.

Stupid short showers. They never steam up the mirrors.

A new woman stands before me, hunched over as she rolls her hair into a turban.

She’s beautiful.  But different.

Her stomach sags a bit more- ok, a lot more.

The handles that emerge from it aren’t loved- they’re just there.

Her breasts no longer stand firm like they used to but rather drape to each side in whatever misshapen form they decided to take in that moment.

Her face is peppered with acne- a reminder that her hormones are coming back in full force.

It’s a sight to be reckoned with.

Her mind races trying to find one thing about her that she can admit is truly beautiful.

As is, she finds nothing.

But when she starts to assign purpose to each roll and mark and layer she finds the beauty in the purpose her body is serving for the time being.

Just as showers used to be a normal part of her day, they are now her sanctuary, if only for 7 minutes. Her body, unblemished & *generic* is now seen as remarkable and a work in progress all at the same time.

+ + +

I hope you can go forward today and be encouraged and know that your body is beautiful and the stage where you’re at right now is beautiful. God wants you to know how beautiful you are.

I know it’s a lot and I know it’s hard and I know it feels impossible to just feel yourself but you’ll get there one day— or at least that’s what they tell me.

I hope you have a lovely and beautiful day and go forth and be encouraged.

If you enjoyed today’s episode please share with a friend, help me get the word out on social media and if you’re feeling it, subscribe and leave a review to help get it out to others on the algorithm who need to be shown some solidarity! Thanks again for listening and be sure to check back next Wednesday for a new episode!

I’m so glad you’re here.

You’re wanted, needed and loved.

I see you, I hear you and you my love, by the grace of God, you’re enough.

xoxo - Ry

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My Birth Story // A Letter To The Medical Community

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Don’t Judge A Girl By Her Nails