I was 12 years old when stretch marks first made an appearance on my body. 

While I had noticed them before, it was in a dressing room where they especially stood out. I was at a department store with my mom, trying on swimsuits for my ever-changing, rapidly-growing body. With hips bare, there they were: streaks of white that seemed to glow under the glare of fluorescent lighting.

My mom seemed surprised, even confused by the sight of them, asking what “those marks” were and how I got them. I don’t remember my exact response, but as a late middle-schooler, I can imagine I didn’t do much more than shrug my shoulders or mumble some disinterested, even slightly embarrassed response.

While she meant no harm and was probably shocked by the pace at which my body was growing, the tone in her voice told me those marks were something to be afraid of. And that they certainly weren’t something to be admired.

I remember the swimsuit she bought me that day. It was a bright teal one-piece, constructed from stretchy, ribbed fabric, that showed off my hips—and my stretch marks.

The suit lasted for a season—my insecurity for much longer.

When the next summer rolled around, I focused on hiding those stretch marks with suits that featured boy shorts and high rise bottoms. And as the seasons came and went, I continued to choose swimsuit styles based on how well they covered up those marks.

Fast forward 20-some years and it’s not just my hips that are streaked in white, but my abdomen and breasts, too—the result of carrying babies in my womb and producing milk for their consumption.

I can’t say I was happy when stretch marks began spreading across sections of my body that had previously been smooth to the touch. During my first pregnancy, despite their presence being rather minimal, I was horrified when they appeared near the bottom of my baby bump just weeks before my due date. Little did I know that future pregnancies would leave my body even more scarred.

My final baby was born over three years ago, and from that pregnancy came the most significant amount of stretch marks I’ve developed. They started to appear early in the second trimester and multiplied by the day. And when swimsuit season rolled around again, I chose the fullest of coverage: a tankini with a swim skirt. And, of course, a cover-up I dared not take off.

While the marks on my body are external, they’ve caused an internal battle for most of my life.

I’ve felt deep pressure to hide what doesn’t look perfect. To bury my body under layers of fabric at the pool and turn off the lights when the bedroom starts to heat up.

But maybe it’s true that with age comes wisdom. And self-acceptance.

Because just days ago, I stood in front of a hotel bathroom mirror, with a toddler at my leg and a child’s laughter seeping through the cracked door. As I prepared to shower off the day’s sweat and chlorine, I took a good look at those stretch marks. Again, I observed how they seemed to stand out under the fluorescent lighting. And I finally saw my stretch marks for what they really are.

Evidence of an abundant life.

There I was, a grown woman, body marred, but with so much to show for those marks. Growth. Life.

My body has survived growing pains and birth pains. My babies are growing into children. And it was in front of that mirror that I saw beauty in everything this body has done for me and the places it’s taken me.

But mostly I saw a life that has been worth every scar. And I’m no longer going to hide them.

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Check out our new Keepsake Companion Journal that pairs with our So God Made a Mother book!

Order Now
So God Made a Mother's Story Keepsake Journal

Jenny Albers

Jenny Albers is a wife, mother, and writer.  She is the author of Courageously Expecting, a book that empathizes with and empowers women who are pregnant after loss. You can find Jenny on her blog, where she writes about pregnancy loss, motherhood, and faith. She never pretends to know it all, but rather seeks to encourage others with real (and not always pretty) stories of the hard, heart, and humorous parts of life. She's a work in progress, and while never all-knowing, she's (by the grace of God) always growing. You can follow her on Facebook and Instagram.

Instead of Counting Down the Days until My Marine Came Home, I Counted My Blessings

In: Motherhood
Mother and two children holding "welcome home" signs next to soldier daddy, color photo

It was a relatively mild morning in October—cool even, considering we were in the middle of the Mojave Desert. We stood atop a concrete amphitheater overlooking a grass field in the middle of the small USMC installation known as Twenty-Nine Palms. All the unit’s seabags were lined up in neat rows, each one stuffed to bursting. John held our daughter Eleanor who had just woken up from a nap in her infant carrier. Blearily, she looked around and then smiled when John paused his conversation with some of his friends to coo at her. I sat with our son Sawyer...

Keep Reading

I Am an Adult with Autism

In: Living, Motherhood
Mother and three children in wildflowers, color photo

Thirty years. That’s how long it took for me to get the right diagnoses. Thirty years. Of struggles. Of shame. Of depression and anxiety. Of bullying. All without knowing the true causes and what was really going on. I never would have believed you if you told me a few years ago that I was autistic. It wasn’t until all three of my children were diagnosed with autism that I started to see the similarities and begin to question. At first, I thought there was no way. Wouldn’t I have known by now? It just can’t be. So I threw...

Keep Reading

I Hope My Daughter Loves Her Future Mother-in-Law

In: Motherhood
Bride holding mother's hands

I’m a proud boy mom. I catch bugs, I catch balls (in the house), and I try my best to catch my boys’ every fall. I love it. I love being a boy mom. There is one part I don’t like: everyone telling me they will leave as soon as they meet “the one,” and their wife’s family will push my husband and I out of the picture. “A boy is yours ‘til he finds a wife, a daughter’s your daughter all her life.” I’d heard it too many times from older moms who chuckle as if the rhyming covers...

Keep Reading

Adoptive Parents-To-Be Deserve to Be Celebrated Too

In: Motherhood
Couple making heart with hands

My husband and I are on a very exciting journey—we are in the process of adopting our first child! Wow, we are stoked beyond words. Albeit we are on the front end of the journey at this point (as in just now about to complete our home study). Yet we are knee-deep and in the thick of it all. After struggling with infertility for about two years and many doctors’ appointments later, it became clear that natural conception is not how we will become parents. We never thought we would encounter infertility. Infertility has been hard and a grieving process...

Keep Reading

I’m Thankful for the Community We’ve Found

In: Friendship, Living, Motherhood
Community on street having a picnic

It was the end of the school holidays, and the return to school after Christmas was looming. The children had had two weeks at home. The general sense of routine was lost for the boys, with late nights and relaxing days watching YouTube while playing their Switch. I was eager for routine to make a reappearance through school. As we headed into the weekend before the start of school, Josh had a cough and then a fever, and it became clear this would not be the week I had envisioned. By Monday morning the boys appeared more lethargic than usual,...

Keep Reading

Our Kids Need Us as Much as We Need Them

In: Kids, Motherhood
Little boy sitting on bench with dog nearby, color photo

During a moment of sadness last week, my lively and joyful toddler voluntarily sat with me on the couch, holding hands and snuggling for a good hour. This brought comfort and happiness to the situation. At that moment, I realized sometimes our kids need us, sometimes we need them, and sometimes we need each other at the same time. Kids need us. From the moment they enter the world, infants express their needs through tiny (or loud) cries. Toddlers need lots of cuddling as their brains try to comprehend black, white, and all the colors of the expanding world around...

Keep Reading

Your Kids Don’t Need More Things, They Need More You

In: Faith, Kids, Motherhood
Mother and young girl smiling together at home

He reached for my hand and then looked up. His sweet smile and lingering gaze flooded my weary heart with much-needed peace. “Thank you for taking me to the library, Mommy! It’s like we’re on a date! I like it when it’s just the two of us.” We entered the library, hand in hand, and headed toward the LEGO table. As I began gathering books nearby, I was surprised to feel my son’s arms around me. He gave me a quick squeeze and a kiss with an “I love you, Mommy” before returning to his LEGO—three separate times. My typically...

Keep Reading

Take it from a Mom Who’s Been There: It Gets Easier

In: Motherhood
Mother with teen daughter embracing and smiling outside

My view from home is changing as my oldest is now married and my youngest is wrapping up his college career. But dear mom of little ones and even those not-so-little ones, I want you to know that I remember. I remember the side-eyes and the judging glances from older moms as I juggled toddlers doing their toddler thing. All these years later, I still feel the harshness of their stings. I remember the gloom and doom declarations of “Just wait until they turn three, or ten, or thirteen . . .” Those almost gleefully delivered little quips that made...

Keep Reading

This is How to Support Miscarriage Moms

In: Grief, Loss, Motherhood
Woman with arm around another woman sitting in field

When you hear the term miscarriage, what do you think? My initial thought was the loss of an unborn child, but have you ever really wondered what truly happens when you are having a miscarriage? Our first miscarriage occurred immediately after our wedding in 2019, we had a chemical pregnancy after conceiving while on our honeymoon. This means we had a positive pregnancy test, but by the time we got to our OB/GYN, I had the heaviest period of my life, resulting in a negative serum pregnancy test. That was hard enough to go through but was nothing compared to...

Keep Reading

Mom, Will You Pray With Me?

In: Faith, Motherhood
Little girl praying, profile shot

“Will you pray with me?” This is a question I hear daily from my 9-year-old. Her worried heart at times grips her, making it difficult for her to fall asleep or nervous to try something new. Her first instinct is to pray with Mom. Perhaps this is because of how many times her Dad and I have told her that God is with her, that she is never alone, and that she can always come to Him in prayer and He will answer. Perhaps it is because she has seen her Dad and I lean on the Lord in times...

Keep Reading