Why new mums are turning to drastic weight loss fixes

Why new mums are turning to drastic weight loss fixes (Photo: iStock)

When Sheila gave birth to her daughter, she imagined a season of softness, bonding, healing and allowing her body the grace it deserved. But just weeks later, as the congratulations faded, a new kind of pressure emerged, the unspoken expectation to look like she’d never been pregnant at all.

“It started with subtle comments,” she recalls. “A friend said, ‘You’ll bounce back, right?’ Then someone on Instagram asked if I was expecting again. I’d just had the baby two months prior.”

For Sheila, whose partner is a public figure with a sizeable online following, the scrutiny wasn’t just external. “He’d repost my old videos, me in crop tops, gym fits. It was subtle, maybe unintentional, but it stung. I felt like I was slowly becoming invisible.”

Sheila isn’t alone. Across the globe, new mothers are quietly battling what many now call “snapback culture” a societal narrative that suggests post-baby weight is a flaw to be fixed. And with the growing accessibility of extreme measures, more women are responding to this pressure in drastic ways.

“The comments started even before I gave birth,” says Aisha, 33, a first-time mother. “People would say, ‘Enjoy this time, because you’ll be hitting the gym hard soon!’ It made me dread the postpartum period instead of looking forward to it. I felt like my body was already on trial.”

Aisha found herself scrolling through social media and comparing her growing bump to the perfectly flat stomachs of celebrity mothers. This comparison fuelled a quiet anxiety. “After the baby arrived, I avoided mirrors. Every stretch mark felt like a personal failure, even though I knew it wasn’t rational.”

For some, the answer lies in medication. Ozempic, an injectable drug initially developed for type 2 diabetes, is now being used off-label as a weight-loss solution, often recommended quietly among mothers. It dramatically curbs appetite and leads to rapid results, but not without side effects.

When medication feels too slow or uncertain, surgery beckons. “After my second baby, I opted for a gastric sleeve,” says Nana, 30, who had struggled with her weight before becoming pregnant. “I was tired of being called ‘mama nani’ as if I were only my children’s mother. I wanted to feel like a woman again, both for myself and for my husband.”

Procedures such as gastric bypass, sleeve gastrectomy, gastric banding and duodenal switch are quietly gaining popularity as postpartum solutions, providing dramatic, immediate results.

Statistics reveal the widespread nature of this issue: globally, 50-75 per cent of women do not return to their pre-pregnancy weight within 12 months of childbirth, with many retaining 4.5 kg or more. This postpartum weight retention significantly contributes to long-term overweight and obesity.

According to psychologist Caroline Karanja, the postpartum body is not just a personal journey; it is also part of a wider cultural conversation. “Traditionally, African women carried weight with pride. It signified strength, wealth and attractiveness,” she says. “However, with increasing Western influence, we’re seeing a shift; nowadays, thinness represents success, discipline and desirability.”

Caroline explains that new mothers are especially vulnerable. “They’re in a delicate space, navigating identity, hormones and sleep deprivation and yet they’re under immense pressure to recover physically as if it were a timed competition.”

The shift isn’t always overt. It manifests in gym adverts promising ‘the old you’, partners making offhand comments or the countless online posts of celebrity mums flaunting their flat stomachs just weeks after giving birth.

“And when those expectations are internalised,” Caroline warns, “women begin to chase after an unrealistic ideal, often at the cost of their wellbeing.”

For some, this pursuit extends to diet culture and gruelling workouts. “After my first child, I tried every tea I saw online and every intermittent fasting trend,” says Lucy, a 28-year-old mother of two. “I was barely eating and yet I was applauded. People kept saying, ‘You look amazing,’ but inside I was falling apart. I was doing gruelling gym routines before I had even fully healed, pushing myself to exhaustion.”

Esther, a 35-year-old corporate professional, echoes this sentiment. “My maternity leave felt less like a break and more like an intense personal training camp,” she says. During a video call when my baby was only a month old, my boss casually remarked, ‘Looking forward to seeing you back in shape!’

It was subtle, but it felt like a direct order. I started skipping meals, pushing myself on walks while I was still bleeding and even considering keto and detox teas. I just wanted to prove that I hadn’t let myself go.

Esther admits to spending hours researching extreme diets and considering a drastic detox. ‘The pressure to return to work looking “pre-baby” was immense. It felt like my professionalism was tied to my waistline.’

Wanjiku, a 29-year-old new mother struggling with postpartum depression, found the pressure unbearable. ‘My baby had colic, I was barely sleeping and the only thing people asked about was my belly. Even my mother, who meant well, would say, “Are you sure you’re eating right? You’re still so big.” It wasn’t just about fitting into old clothes; it was about feeling like a failure in every aspect of my new life.

Wanjiku says she would cry in the shower when she looked at her body and felt so disconnected from it. She felt like she was letting down her husband, her family and even her baby, simply because her body wasn’t ‘snapping back’ quickly enough. This constant, gnawing shame overshadowed the joy of motherhood.

Globally, around 10- 20 per cent of women experience a mental health disorder after childbirth, primarily depression, with some studies reporting even higher rates in developing countries.

Research consistently links postpartum weight retention and body dissatisfaction to an increased risk of depressive symptoms and more severe postpartum depression.

Women who perceive their gestational weight gain as excessive, or who are dissatisfied with their post-baby body, are significantly more likely to experience mental health issues.

It’s a complicated dance between wanting to reclaim your body and proving that you have value outside of motherhood.

The truth is that healing after childbirth isn’t straightforward or one-size-fits-all. Some women feel empowered by gym routines; others by simply surviving the day. Both experiences are valid.

Caroline encourages new mothers to rewrite the narrative. “Your worth doesn’t shrink or expand based on your size,” she says. “It lies in how you show up for yourself and the quiet choices you make every day. If we can extend compassion to our children, we must also extend it to ourselves.”

Postpartum recovery isn’t a race to reclaim who you were before motherhood. It’s a slow, personal transformation into a new, stronger and more tender version of yourself, reshaped by love and labour.

“She’s not the body I knew,” says Sheila, softly touching her midsection. “But she made my daughter. That has to count for something.”

Caroline adds, “We must challenge the idea that beauty after birth is about erasure. True healing doesn’t mean disappearing into our pre-baby bodies; it means expanding our definitions of worth.”