I first saw the coning at 13 weeks pregnant.
A little ridge that popped up whenever I tried to sit up in bed or roll off the sofa. As a personal trainer, I knew exactly what it was. Diastasis recti.
And I knew it could get worse if I didn’t start supporting my core properly.
When I was pregnant with my second, I felt it again. Only this time it was deeper. A painful pulling through the centre of my tummy, like something was tearing and I remember thinking… here we go again.
I started worrying. Not just about how I looked, but how I felt.
Would I ever feel strong again? Would the softness stay?
Would I be left with the mum pooch I’d worked so hard to avoid?
Would I have to wear pads every time I ran or jumped on the trampoline with my kids?
And honestly, I felt frustrated.
Because during pregnancy, we’re surrounded by check-ins, midwives, apps, advice.
But after? When your body feels foreign and fragile and you’re quietly wondering if this is just it now? There’s barely anything.
No real support. No one saying, “Hey, we can fix this.”
