OK, well I don't want to get too damned explicit here but I am TELLING you that there is flesh from the upper wall of the vaginal canal itself that USED to be quite politely tucked away within, which NOW is sort of "pushed out" looking, since my second birth, which was accelerated using pitocin and my epidural didn't work and it was painful as HELL but at least rather fast. The very appearance even from the outside is permanently different, not only in coloration but as I say, in form, this happened fifteen years ago, it has recovered as much as it's ever going to, I am fairly freaking sure.
I cannot speak to your body. But I can tell you that mine is most definitely different.
EDIT: Forgot, also, with my first, there was a lot of tearing and I had stitches. I have scars.
Now, I'm fortunate in that I did moisturize the heck out of my stretch marks so they aren't bad, my belly looks nice, but I also lost literally 2 cup sizes (C to A) after breastfeeding, and I'm told by the cosmetic surgeon who removed the small benign tumor on my nose (it grew back when it healed, yay me, another lifelong disfigurement to live with) that women often have breast enhancement surgery because of changes post babies.
I decided however that it is far more in character for me to get tattoos than it is for me to get a boob job, I am not trying to look like Barbie for godssakes so I can deal with how feminine clothing doesn't look right on me and my body's silhouette does not quite go in and out in all the right places.
Mostly this stuff doesn't bug me, once in a while it does, a little. Usually when I'm at the dungeon, looking on with all of the other onlookers at a perfect young female body the likes of which one might move heaven and earth to possess...it makes me sad both that there are a LOT of humans I share my world with, that would assess my personal value and hers and any woman's on such a basis, as WELL as the fact that I'll never have that kind of value no matter what I do in life, to, well, frankly, most of humanity. I don't know whether I'm upset at me for not being "pretty" or the whole fecking world for thinking it's so important. I personally see a lot of beauty in so many kinds of people, give me a sharp intellect, a creative soul, a kind spirit...and you can keep the physical perfection of youth, I am not interested. But that makes me some kind of oddball with odd kinks, because most of...people...especially males who are "visual" won't agree with me. Am I bitter because I'm jealous, or am I bitter that my values are unnatural and not share by humanity? Big questions for a thread about vaginas.
At its starkest and most depressing, there is all of that.
Which is why I said "fuck all that shit" and jumped off that scale and onto one where I reframe the whole damn situation and judge myself on character, on ethics, on smarts, on humor, on kindness to self and others, on literally ANYTHING but womanly good looks. If my appearance is not serving a function, usually to express my personality, then it is time I won't usually be wasting. But if I could do something to myself to better please my partner, specifically, then I might be willing to give it a go, so long as it isn't TOO much trouble.
But I wander, ramble and generally digress (bad habit of mine) and the bottom line is, whether it makes me weird in yet another way or not, I really do think that having the kids changed my body in a number of ways. On the bright side, my G spot became much more accessible during and after my pregnancies than it ever was previously. That's nice. Sex actually feels a lot better for me now than it did when I was younger.