Dear Postpartum Body,
I caught a glimpse of you today as I was rushing to get into the shower while my kids were finally down for their 20-minute morning naps.
Usually, when I see you, you are covered in a baggy t-shirt and leggings (maternity leggings that is).
I got in the shower and as I washed my once full head of hair I was reminded that not only have you forced me to buy clothes two sizes bigger than what I wore pre-pregnancy,
but you have made me say goodbye to my thick locks as clumps of hair washed down the shower drain.
My youngest woke up mid-shampoo so I didn’t have time to use conditioner. My hair would have to air dry into a frizzy mess.
That’s okay because I would have probably ended up throwing it into a ponytail anyway.
As I got dressed, I noticed my hanging belly, full of stretch marks.
While I was pregnant, I was so happy that I remained stretch mark free. Who knew you could get stretch marks AFTER giving birth?
I put on my favorite maternity pants, packed up both babies and headed to the grocery store, hoping no one would see my belly and ask me when I am due.
I’d like to say I don’t recognize you, but that would be a lie. I am used to seeing you.
In fact, the other day a pre-baby picture popped up on my Facebook memories.
There I stood in a cute little tank top and shorts. My hair was perfect, and I had a full face of makeup on.
That is the girl I no longer recognize.
After dinner, I played cars with my toddler and danced with him to his favorite songs by The Wiggles.
I fed my daughter a bottle and watched as my son ran up to her giving her kisses and making her crack up laughing.
I smiled as he counted to five, holding up five fingers for every number.
My heart melted when he blew me a kiss and in his tiny voice said, “I love you, Mama.”
Then I realized, postpartum body you are so worth it.
You nourished my babies before they were Earthside.
You grew them for nine months without failing any of us.
You withstood the pain of childbirth and helped give me my whole world.
You’re not going to be around forever.
Just like the baby sleeping soundly in my arms, you are just a season in my life.
Thank you for everything you’ve done, stretch marks and all.
A grateful mother who will eventually fit back into her skinny jeans.