“I have stretch marks. The evidence of each baby carved into my skin. My son’s life dances above the cesarean scar that saved the life of my final baby. My second etched her marks into my hips as a permanent hug. Their stories written on my skin as a perpetual reminder of the way it stretched, morphed and survived.”
I wrote this in an Instagram post a while back. It was to express the way I love all that my body has become but it hasn’t been without trial, without struggle and forgiveness (mostly for ever believing it was flawed in the first place). I know that loving your body when it has changed so much, when it feels foreign and strange can be a battle. So, I’m going to ask you to put aside loving it for this moment. You don’t even have to like it. But take a moment to appreciate the magic.
It grew a human being. That’s pretty magical if you ask me. To create a life from scratch and to feel its dancing from inside. That’s no easy task. You didn’t read a book on how to craft an eyelash, your body knew exactly what it was doing.
You may have risen 47586 times last night and you will rise again when your baby calls. The exhaustion is real, but your legs swing over the edge of the bed and carry you to your little one. Without fail, rising time and time again for the life you so carefully designed within you.
There might come a day when your little ones mould, squish, or comment on the wobbly evidence that their life was once tethered to yours. You may cringe but look at their faces. Joy and wonderment. How did you make them? What was it like to carry them? They laugh and giggle as you tell them about how they kicked you while you slept or had hiccups that made your belly jolt. They are delighted in their creation.
The stretch marks, the less than perky breasts, one thin pink line where a miracle happened laying across a soft stomach are all I have left from 3 pregnancies. My kids will continue to grow, and the day will come when they no longer cling to me. But their beginnings, their beautiful existence will forever remain apart of me. My skin will always tell an enchanting tale of fierce love, resilience, life, and magic. So does yours.