Cosmetic Surgery after Babies

Nicola Grant - 30 Sep 14

It’s probably not very in line with a modern view of feminism (and if I’m honest, it’s a bit boring) to go on about the sagging boobs, the dimpled bum, the wobbly tum and varicose veins that hit in you in the face after having a couple of children, but unfortunately, for many of us – they are hard things to ignore.

And yes, of course we love our offspring dearly, and our bodies have seemingly done the impossible, but in this day in age, do we really have to wear our battle scars as badges of honour? It would seem we mums should all have extremely high self esteem because we have managed our ‘womanly duty’ of bearing children; and should embrace metaphorically ageing 10 years – both physically and mentally by the time our first born is two because, that’s just part of parenting. But what if we don’t all feel like this?

What if, like me, you miss your old figure, your line-free face and your old boobs – and no amount of ‘mummy fit’ classes or ‘we must, we must, we must improve our bust’ chanting is going to improve things in the way we would like.

What are the options? What if… now sshhh…, let’s not say it too loudly in case anyone overhears, but what if a visit to a cosmetic surgeon was an option (finances permitting), and not frowned upon in the mummy sphere? What if – wait for it… we could have a boob / tummy / bum (delete where appropriate) lift to give us back a little of what we’ve lost? Or even, what the hell – to give us a little something extra whilst we’re there!?

Well of course we can. Cosmetic surgery is happening everywhere we look, and has been for decades, but for some reason it seems to be something that isn’t or shouldn’t be openly discussed in mummy circles. It’s something that is only whispered to your best mates and broached tentatively, almost embarrassingly – as though we have let womanhood down by even thinking about succumbing to the surgeon’s knife. Our bodies belong to our children now it would seem. But for some of us, perhaps it’s something we feel is worth exploring, and dare I say, is something we can do just for ourselves.

And so I did. And for that matter, I’m quite certain (after some covert analysis) that a few other mums I’m acquainted with have walked the plank too. It’s just not mentioned. Sort of like masturbation. It’s simply not the type of activity most women want to disclose at the school gates. However, unlike the ‘M’ word (which understandably isn’t everyone’s subject matter of choice over a flat white), the wider conversation around the benefits and pitfalls of cosmetic surgery would, I imagine, help others to make more of an informed choice. It could also help our friends and acquaintances to feel safer in the knowledge that their questions will get answered truthfully, and in turn, not make them feel the need to revert to dodgy forums filled with (often misguided) advice from total strangers.

For myself, the road to an enhanced me was not the easiest option. Going under general anaesthetic sucked. But floating on cloud Codeine afterwards was fab.

Having a supportive partner who was able to play role of mum and dad for a while was invaluable (I lucked out on that front) and if that support wasn’t there, a seriously good Fairy Godmother would have needed to step in to help run the shop. My other half managed to miraculously lessen (by a little anyway) the feeling of being She-Devil when our kids looked at me with their big doe eyes and begged to be lifted up and cuddled when I physically wasn’t unable to do so. That was a shitty time.

Post op blues can also happen. The all-encompassing feeling of sadness after the ‘deed has been done’ is apparently not uncommon. For me, desperate and overwhelming feelings of guilt pulsated through me when I thought of how I could have left my children motherless all in the name of vanity – although to be fair, the chances of dying in the car on the way to the hospital were considerably higher than they were on the operating table (or so the surgeon said).

I’m not writing this piece as a staunch supporter of cosmetic surgery for all. As with all surgery, it carries an element of risk, and is probably not something I will do again. But after all is said and done, life goes on and unless you are transformed into a Jordan lookalike (and the procedure is successful), nobody bats an eyelid. The earth doesn’t stop revolving and your kids probably won’t notice a thing. Providing you are able to take it for what it is – a physical enhancement only, then perhaps it doesn’t just have to be the stuff of footballers wives and Joan Rivers (RIP). Perhaps it can also sometimes be for the average, run of the mill mum, who just wants to feel a bit better about her post baby body. Is that so bad?

If on the other hand, you can appreciate everything your body has done without a trace of bitterness, or better still, you love your body even more for the way it has given you your most treasured possessions, then more power to you. I’m not sure it makes for a ‘better’ person, but it certainly makes for a stronger one.

In the end, regardless of how we decide to treat our bodies pre or post babies (and it is an individual choice), it’s perhaps important to realise that no amount of physical change can make up for any emotional pain that already exists inside.

People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in their true beauty is revealed only if there is light from within. – Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

Nicola Grant

Nicola is a mother of two from London

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