Skin Care
Why the Pregnancy Glow Is a Myth We Should Stop Perpetuating...And what to do when your skin decides to rebel while you're expecting |
There are a lot of old wives' tales associated with pregnancy, like that heartburn leads to hairy babies. Or that you can predict a baby's gender by your cravings. And then there's the so-called pregnancy glow, which is the notion that pregnant women are magically #blessed with the most radiant skin of their lives.
Well, it appears as though the stork passed me over for the latter rumored pregnancy perk because getting knocked up has led to some of the worst acne I've ever had. Of course, my pregnancy hasn't been entirely without benefits, with the obvious being the prospect of a chubby-cheeked baby at the end (which, trust me, in spite of the gripes I'm about to air, I don't take for granted). Almost as sweet, pregnancy finally gave me the voluptuous figure my seventh-grade self had desperately hoped for in a very "Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret" kind of way. Unfortunately, in the process, my skin has also reverted to my teen years.
Almost as soon as that second line appeared on my pregnancy test, gigantic cystic acne sprouted on my back, stubborn pimples dotted my jawline and zits appeared where they never had before (apparently shoulder acne is a thing, who knew?). It was painful and embarrassing. To add insult to injury, because I was still trying to keep my bun-in-the-oven under wraps, I couldn't even explain away my acne-riddled complexion. At one particularly low point I had to enlist my husband to color-correct and conceal each body pustule so that I could attend a fancy Beverly Hills party in a dress that exposed my upper back.
Needless to say, I've come to resent the idea of the pregnancy glow. I mean, I'm literally growing another human being inside my body -- and I'm supposed to glow while doing it? And I'm supposed to adopt this glow at the same time my pants don't fit, Kleenex commercials bring me to tears and the smell of Cheerios makes me want to gag? Give me a break.
But despite my exasperation with my skin's rebellion, the health journalist in me was intrigued. Was there any truth to this mythical glow? Was it just a lie concocted by the patriarchy? Or was it just something we projected on moms-to-be? More importantly, where was mine?
To get to the bottom of the so-called "pregnancy glow," I consulted skin care and pregnancy experts. Read on to find out what it is, how it can go oh-so wrong and what you can do to cope with unwanted baby-induced breakouts.
SEE NEXT PAGE: The Truth About the Pregnancy Glow
Well, it appears as though the stork passed me over for the latter rumored pregnancy perk because getting knocked up has led to some of the worst acne I've ever had. Of course, my pregnancy hasn't been entirely without benefits, with the obvious being the prospect of a chubby-cheeked baby at the end (which, trust me, in spite of the gripes I'm about to air, I don't take for granted). Almost as sweet, pregnancy finally gave me the voluptuous figure my seventh-grade self had desperately hoped for in a very "Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret" kind of way. Unfortunately, in the process, my skin has also reverted to my teen years.
Almost as soon as that second line appeared on my pregnancy test, gigantic cystic acne sprouted on my back, stubborn pimples dotted my jawline and zits appeared where they never had before (apparently shoulder acne is a thing, who knew?). It was painful and embarrassing. To add insult to injury, because I was still trying to keep my bun-in-the-oven under wraps, I couldn't even explain away my acne-riddled complexion. At one particularly low point I had to enlist my husband to color-correct and conceal each body pustule so that I could attend a fancy Beverly Hills party in a dress that exposed my upper back.
Needless to say, I've come to resent the idea of the pregnancy glow. I mean, I'm literally growing another human being inside my body -- and I'm supposed to glow while doing it? And I'm supposed to adopt this glow at the same time my pants don't fit, Kleenex commercials bring me to tears and the smell of Cheerios makes me want to gag? Give me a break.
But despite my exasperation with my skin's rebellion, the health journalist in me was intrigued. Was there any truth to this mythical glow? Was it just a lie concocted by the patriarchy? Or was it just something we projected on moms-to-be? More importantly, where was mine?
To get to the bottom of the so-called "pregnancy glow," I consulted skin care and pregnancy experts. Read on to find out what it is, how it can go oh-so wrong and what you can do to cope with unwanted baby-induced breakouts.
SEE NEXT PAGE: The Truth About the Pregnancy Glow