Maternal Self-Esteem

[Editor's Note: This is a guest post by Dr. Jessica Zucker,a licensed clinical psychologist in Los Angeles specializing in women's health with a focus on fertility, prenatal and postpartum adjustments, attachment, and transitions in motherhood. Learn more about Jessica at her website.


This story is part of a new, ongoing series of guest posts about motherhood. Visit IMOW's new online exhibition MAMA: Motherhood Around the Globe at mama.imow.org ]

Flickr / Mario Izquierdo

Body change is shrouded in fear. Iconic female bodies are tiny, toned, tight, and most definitely without the permanence of stretch marks. Pregnancy creates a cultural conundrum. On the one hand, culture secretly (though not so quietly sometimes) mandates that women work their hardest to look as though their bodies are as slight as a whisper, taking up little to no space, while simultaneously exuding sexiness and a little bit of sass. The ever-changing prenatal body is creating, carrying, and nurturing new life and with that comes a robustness that potentially stirs unresolved issues, handed down from culture, family, and shaky self-esteem.

When self-esteem is predicated on the number that pops up on the scale each morning or hinges on whether or not you can fit into freshly dried jeans today that you wore comfortably yesterday, pregnancy may present a warranted wake-up call.

All too often I hear rumblings of regret, from day one of the positive pregnancy test up to at least one-year postpartum, about the maternal body’s metamorphosis. “Instead of relishing my ever-increasing curves, I find myself comparing my body to my pregnant co-worker, as if being smaller will render me the winner of an unspoken competition.“ “Someone asked me if I’m having twins, and I’m only 25 weeks pregnant with a singleton, what am I going to look like by 40 weeks? There is nothing beautiful about being this huge.” “I’m the size of a whale, a house, a continent!” and “I’m ready to get back to my pre-pregnancy weight. I want my body to be normal again. I’m sick of this bulging belly, drooping breasts, and not feeling like my old self.”

Rarely are women enjoying the idyllic “glow” rumored to accompany pregnancy. Instead, pregnant women often find it an arduous task to establish a sense of comfort in their newfound maternal skin. More often than not women report being mildly or severely tormented by the myriad body changes occurring throughout pregnancy and beyond. In fact, pre-pregnancy body image challenges that get reinvigorated during this transformative time may be a regrettable source of anxiety and/or depression. Studies have found that “anxiety disorders are more frequent than depression during pregnancy, and at least as common as depression during the postpartum period, if not more so. Depression and anxiety are kind of like thunder and lightning- they just go together” (Wiegartz & Gyoerkoe, 2009). Even seemingly sturdy pre-pregnancy self-esteem can be undermined by a tidal wave of disorienting anxiety.

Self-esteem is an aspect of personality that can be cultivated across the lifespan. Dedicated introspection and mindfully growing self-understanding allows for increased ease and fruitful connections. Pregnancy may awaken previously untouched, powerful feelings about self-worth, body image, and familial relationships. Some say that pregnancy is miraculous. Yet, undigested internal struggles will not miraculously disappear during pregnancy. Instead, a resurgence of unknown or pushed away fears may bubble to the surface during this nascent experience. Bolstering your sense of self-worth during pregnancy by thoughtfully examining unresolved issues may harness a greater sense of postpartum confidence and peace of mind as parenthood emerges.

Parents are created not born. The process of becoming a parent is marked by pregnancy and is a lifelong journey filled with opportunities for growth and development. Who we are at any given time invariably gets imbued into how we negotiate parenting. Pregnancy provides a ripe opportunity to deeply understand the parenting we received, the parenting we hope to provide, and perhaps most importantly, delving into places of internal unrest with the aim of resolving historical pain. When we parent from the inside out, we benefit enormously by establishing self-esteem that is tenacious and authentic.

Intergenerational transmission of self-esteem may be a worthwhile concept to ponder during this gestational period. Hardy parental self-esteem models enhanced flexibility of mind and a comfort in the world while self-worth riddled with insecurity and ambivalence may yield enduring anxiety across generations. “The development of the child’s whole personality is influenced by many things, including genetics, temperament, physical health, and experience. Parent-child relationships offer one very important part of the early experience that directly shapes a child’s emerging personality. Emotional intelligence, self-esteem, cognitive abilities, and social skills are built on this early attachment relationship. How parents have reflected on their lives directly shapes the nature of that relationship” (Siegel & Hartzell, 2003).

Arming ourselves with prenatal parenting skills and reflective emotional insight can help garner a graceful pregnancy and postpartum adjustment period. Self-esteem, along with hormonal shifts and social support, play a central role in post-pregnancy transitions. Postpartum blues, depression, and anxiety are too common to be ignored. Even the most ironclad sense of self-esteem can be readily dismantled by the impact of postpartum mood disorders. “The juxtaposition of one of life’s greatest gifts and one of life’s most unkind illnesses is what makes postpartum depression different from depression that is unrelated to childbirth” (Kleiman, 2009). Feeling unbearably hopeless, frighteningly disconnected or overtaken by crippling anxiety can leave someone who previously felt like Super Woman unrecognizably lifeless. This is all the more reason to take time out to do the reflective work necessary to feel grounded in who you are as a woman and a mother-to-be.

Parenthood is a perennial adventure. Babies do not arrive with universal instruction manuals spelling out the various ways we can help them thrive in the world. Creating secure, healthy self-esteem in our children comes from a much deeper place within, not necessarily from anything we read in a how-to book. Asking for help when we need it, identifying our strengths as a parent, and attempting to be consciously aware of stumbling blocks promise to engender a mindful childhood for your offspring. Research has shown that “parents who themselves did not have ‘good enough parents’ or who even had traumatic childhoods can make sense of their lives and have healthy relationships. More important for our children than merely what happened to us in the past is the way we have come to process and understand it. The opportunity to change and grow continues to be available throughout our lives” (Siegel & Hartzell, 2003).

Building self-esteem within our children begins before they are born. It begins within our selves.


This post was previously published on the Huffington Post and PBS.org.

Smaller than Before: The Politics of Post-Partum Bodies

[Editor's Note: This is a guest post by Dr. Jessica Zucker,a licensed clinical psychologist in Los Angeles specializing in women's health with a focus on fertility, prenatal and postpartum adjustments, attachment, and transitions in motherhood. Learn more about Jessica at her website. 


This story is part of a new, ongoing series of guest posts about motherhood. Visit IMOW's new online exhibition MAMA: Motherhood Around the Globe at mama.imow.org ]

Flickr/ huberson

A close friend of mine from graduate school was in town over the weekend, someone I hadn’t seen since I was mid-way through my pregnancy. As we briskly walked toward each other, arms outstretched, brimming with wild enthusiasm about our long overdue rendezvous, Amalia blurts out from across the toddler trafficked park, “Oh my God, look at you, you don’t even look like you had a baby! You’re smaller than you were before.”

I wasn’t sure how I felt as we hugged, in the midst of awkwardly digesting her jubilant albeit off the cuff comment about the apparent erasure of my pregnancy. The embrace was cut short as she gently pushed me back to scan every inch of my postpartum body, unable to contain her energized description of how “little” I look, how “tiny” I am – spilling with words she defines as every woman’s dream. Or more to the point, every woman’s goal.

I want to be marked, in some way, by pregnancy, by the birth of my child. This is not to say that I would have wanted to maintain all the weight gained during pregnancy, but I do feel the body as well as the mind/psyche/heart go through a series of metamorphoses as life is being nourished inside and outside of the body.

Women are constantly shamed for their shape. Prepartum, postpartum, and never-partum. All but the smallest sizes are viewed as less than, not driven enough to surveil every morsel of food ingested, not vigilant enough to carve out time for daily workouts. Even women I know who do embody the cultural ideal – trotting around in the smallest sizes the jean manufacturers are producing these days- even they don’t feel at home in their bodies.

The droning laundry list of things that women say about how they “got their bodies back” include and sadly are not limited to: “breastfeeding is definitely what made the baby weight fly off”, “I got the food delivery service straight away. I was determined to return to my pre-baby wardrobe as quickly as possible and that way I didn’t have to think about what I was eating, it was done for me”, “I started counting calories while in the hospital. I was surprised by how long it took for the weight to come off but I feel like it’s the only thing I can control right now so my focus is sharp”, “not even a moment goes into thinking about my food intake. I guess I lost it all while running after my rambunctious toddler. He never gives me a break.”

Amalia is freshly married, 38, ambivalent about having kids. As she blithely puts it as she considers raising a family, “I could take it or leave it.” The ubiquity of psychological disconnection and body disenchantment is illuminated in Amalia’s detailing of my presence. My physicality is noticed first. My size is experienced and discussed in relationship to banishing pregnancy. The absence of body change is asserted as an enviable compliment. Meanwhile, my darling toddler is resting on my hip and I look into his eyes knowing that he grew inside of me and together we altered the feel and shape of my body. And then I think to myself, “Why would we want to erase that?”

Amalia provoked me to reflect on hundreds of fragmented interactions I’ve had with women since my baby was born. Women who are mothers themselves, women dying to get pregnant, women who share their horror of giving birth, “getting fat”, “staying fat”, women who asked me how much weight I gained while pregnant, my own mother reflecting on her speedy loss of “baby weight” and curious about why mine wasn’t slipping off as quickly. The dynamics of women and what we unwittingly do to each other is devastating. Paralyzing. A cultural vestige all too pervasive.

And then of course we are inundated with endless magazine images of emaciated post-pregnancy “stars” who “got their bodies back instantly.” They pontificate about the various ways women must expunge maternity. The pride taken in shrinking one’s body at any cost is emblematic of a cultural obsession with women not being real women.

The intimacy I experienced with my body and my developing baby during pregnancy was perhaps the most compelling transformation I have ever known. It became, in a way, a metaphor for how I feel about parenthood—a striking awareness of loss of control, simultaneity of surrendering to change on a moment-to-moment basis while experiencing more joy and more fear than the heart can contain. Pregnancy and parenthood invoke an unprecedented heightening of anxiety—excruciating awareness of vulnerability, altering one’s perspective on the fragility of life, as well as a depth of love that redefines the concept. Why would we erase all of this complexity– the physical and psychological makings and markings of pregnancy and parenthood?

I am not necessarily idealizing the experience of pregnancy. I’m not saying women should necessarily enjoy gaining weight, being tattooed with stretch marks, or relish the postpartum belly jiggle. I am attempting to call attention to cultures calamitous requirement that women erase the life giving process.

As Amelia and I make our way through the throngs of sweaty and spirited toddlers and exit the park, she turns to me and reiterates, “You’re so lucky, you look exactly like you did before.” There’s a pregnant pause. And I say, “Actually, my body’s changed from having a baby, and that is why I’m lucky.”


Dr. Jessica Zucker is a clinical psychologist in Los Angeles specializing in women’s health with a focus on transitions in motherhood, perinatal and postpartum mood disorders, and early parent-child attachment. Dr. Zucker received graduate degrees from Harvard and New York University. Jessica is an award-winning writer and is a contributor to The Huffington Post and PBS This Emotional Life. Dr. Zucker is currently writing her first book about mother-daughter relationships and issues surrounding the body (Routledge). Jessica consults on various projects pertaining to the motherhood continuum. www.drjessicazucker.com