It’s Truth Time– You Might Look Like Hell After Giving Birth

I have a serious question for all of you mothers out there—is it me? Am I the only woman in America that looks like a recovering drug addict in every picture immediately following the birth of my children? It’s truth time, ladies– you might look like hell after giving birth.

Someone told me that their beauty was, “…because I was so happy. And you can see that shining through.”

I’m sorry. I call bullshit. BULLSHIT.

I don’t know if I have had happier moments in my life than the birth of my two children. I was filled with a joy that I still cannot fully describe. But the joy didn’t put makeup on my face. And pure happiness didn’t transcend to cover the large bags under my eyes that come from 16 hours of hard labor in the middle of the night and two hours of pushing. Jubilation didn’t remove the white-lady-afro that I sported, which occurs when sweat and curly hair collide.

The delight at seeing my baby’s features for the first time was marred in pictures, due to the fact that my face swelled up like I had been stung by a swarm of angry bees. My bronzer wore off and veins that had popped during the strain of childbirth were etched into my cheeks like blush applied by the Lord of the Underworld.

My posture, especially with my first, made me look crippled. My body had been so worn by the whole experience, that I couldn’t sit up straight or hold my head up. I felt like I had been hit by a Semi-Truck in the vagina, and the after-effects rippled throughout the rest of my frame.

I see photo after photo of these beautiful women who are holding their newborn children on their chests, and they look they have stepped right out of the beauty salon. Their hair is perfectly quaffed, nails are painted, and just the right amount of makeup has been applied. My photos all look like something an elementary school teacher would use in a Sex-Ed class entitled, “This is what can happen to your body after childbirth. Don’t have sex until you’re ready for this harsh reality.”

So what is it? Good genes? Crazy, hardcore makeup that can withstand the pain and agony of childbearing? Are people hiring professionals to labor-scape their faces before the first picture? What am I missing?

I hesitate in posting the picture below, because not only do I look I have eaten three meals from In ‘N Out by my lonesome, but all the aforementioned attributes are there. And yet…I don’t feel like anyone would fully believe me if I didn’t post the proof. This is the real lighting. Why is it so dark? Why does it look like I am in literal hell with a spotlight on my face?

If anyone has any similar photos, contact me. We can put together an art exhibition.

“My Beauty Doth Left with My Placenta”