Let’s talk about the mom bod.

Some people love theirs. Some people don’t—and both experiences are valid.

Before pregnancy, I was the fittest I had been as an adult. I felt strong, capable, and happy with how my body looked. When I saw that positive test, though, physical changes were the last thing on my mind. I was relieved, excited, shocked—and focused on the tiny life growing inside me.

As my pregnancy progressed, my routines changed and so did my body. Some changes were expected: the growing belly and weight gain. Others caught me off guard, especially how quickly my breasts changed. I had always been a standard B cup, which suited my active lifestyle perfectly. Sports bras were easy to buy, comfortable, and supportive enough for running, cycling, and everything in between.

Then, almost overnight, that changed. I found myself buying maternity and nursing bras before I had even started thinking seriously about baby clothes. I had always planned to breastfeed, so I knew change was part of the process—but I hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.

Pregnancy brought its own challenges. There were stretches when starchy foods were the only things that didn’t make me feel awful, and my body gained the weight it needed to support a healthy pregnancy. Even knowing that, it was difficult to recognize myself in the mirror. I’m small-framed, and carrying extra weight felt noticeable to me.

My husband deserves credit here. He consistently reminded me that my body was doing something extraordinary: creating a human being. He reminded me that pregnancy is a season and that my body would keep changing with time. But we all know that compliments from the people we love can struggle to compete with the voice in our own heads. Mine kept telling me that I was taking up more space than I wanted to.

After birth, those feelings did not simply disappear. My clothes fit differently, my body carried the signs of pregnancy and surgery, and breastfeeding brought even more changes. Some days, getting dressed felt harder than it should have.

I know there can be a quick response to this: Give yourself grace. Your body has just done something incredible. And that is true. Recovery takes time, and rest is essential. But it is also okay to want to feel strong, comfortable, and confident in your body again.

As someone who has spent much of my life as an athlete, I think about this stage as rehabilitation. When an athlete is injured, recovery is not about punishing the body for changing. It is about respecting what it has been through, allowing it to heal, and gradually rebuilding strength.

That is how I want to approach this chapter.

My motivation to move again is partly about performance, but it is also about aesthetics—and I think that is okay. Body positivity and self-kindness matter deeply, but they do not mean we have to pretend we love every part of every change. Wanting to rebuild your strength or work toward a body that feels more like your own does not erase gratitude for what your body has done.

I can respect my body for carrying, growing, and feeding my child while also being honest that I want to feel different in it.

There is room for both.

So I am choosing to be patient, to give myself the recovery I need, and to start rebuilding when my body is ready. Not because I need to “bounce back,” but because I want to feel strong, energised, and at home in myself again.

My child deserves a mother who feels good in her own skin. And I deserve that too.