My body bear the marks of motherhood: pale skin, extra weight, dark circles under my eyes, and stretch marks. I miss my pre-pregnant body. I wonder, when will she return? If she does, will she remember herself? Will she be more, less, or just the same self?
When I met my sister for a brief hour trip at the mall, she lamented she use to be an extra small. I tell her, I use to be an extra small too!!
I whine to my husband, "see this belly, it use to be flat and you could see my muscle". He sheepishly smiles, "mine use to be too". He smiles at me as if he doesn't see this post-pregnant body. When my son smiles his toothless grin, he also doesn't see this post-pregnant body. My mother, on the other hand, is another matter.
It is just me (and my mother). I want that body back, partly for practical reasons: it cost a fortune to replace a work wardrobe and partly for vanity and self-esteem - I like its strength and vitality.
But I won't wage war on this post-pregnant body. I won't declare it disgusting or obese. This body is still me. It has given birth and I will treat her gently, take her on walks, and when I have enough sleep I will once again do drills, long bike rides, and hikes. This body is the only one I have and it houses the spirit of my being.
She will likely still have marks, indeed she may gain more throughout the years, but the marks are from carrying my son and he is beautiful to me.
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