A mark for every breath you took,
every blink, every sleepy yawn.
One for every time you sucked your thumb,
waved hello, closed your eyes,
and slept in the most perfect darkness.
One for every time you had the hiccups.
One for every dream you dreamed within me.
It isn't very pretty anymore.
Some may even think it's ugly.
It was your home.
It held you until my arms could
and for that,
I will always find something beautiful in it.
The other night I discovered a disturbing change in my appearance.
Actually, no. I didn't discover it.
Paul did, which made me feel even worse.
He hugged me and kissed my hair and told me that he still thought I was the sexiest momma on the block, but I still cried. The past three days, I haven't been able to stop looking at this new development. I now have three purple varicose veins on my lower right hip. It's a result of my uterus getting heavier and cutting off the circulation to my legs. I've been moping about this for three days, but now I am done. I am finished being vain (pun intended) and I have a damn good reason why.
Reason: I have a body.
I have a body that can do neat things, like house and feed a baby for nine months. This body can create a life - an individual that no one else could create. The acne, weight gain, stretch marks, and varicose veins are all just souvenirs of the incredible work that is going inside of me right now. How could I resent that?
I'm a bit ashamed of the brief bout of vanity and selfishness I've been feeling over this.
Try not to judge me too harshly.
So today, I am thankful for my body.