And before I get to it, I should add how very thankful I am to every one of you readers. Those who contribute, who pass on the link, who read and are changed, those who e-mail me your gratitude. You all have changed my life, contributed to my own growth in accepting myself and my body as I am. Thank you, all of you.
I am thankful for my body, I have more respect for my body now that I have two children than I did in my younger days. I love my curves, love the fact that my curves show that I can bear children, that I am that powerful. I do not look like a girl, but like a woman! Yes, I have stretch marks, and my belly will never be flat, but I gave birth to a 9 lb 9 oz son. If I can do that, I can do anything.
-Julie Ann
I am thankful for so much in relation to my body: that it could be the nest where my son could enter the world and grow in; that, in spite of my anxieties, the nest provided all he needed; that it could open up for him to emerge into full participation in the world; that my breasts could both nourish him and provide a connection to his nest so that he could take his own time about participating in the world; that now he is independent of the breast connection, I can offer him a lap and arms to enfold him and even carry him. I am especially thankful to my breasts. They were only hints of breasts before I was pregnant, like the tufts you can make on meringue with the back of a spoon! And yet, they worked!!! I still remember the day I found colostrum in my breasts: miniscule they may have been, but they worked & nursed my son for 5 1/2 years – I am so thankful for that! I have no stretchmarks, but I do have slightly fuller breasts – still well under an A cup size but MY Mamma breasts!!!
Thank you Bonnie for the prompt to appreciate myself & all of us in this way!
-Andrea in Edinburgh, Scotland
First, I would like to say thank you for this wonderful site you have created. It helped immeasurably during my first couple months post-partum; allowed me to see past the flaws and celebrate the deeper meaning of my body. I had thought there was no way my body would snap back to its formerly fit & lithe self. Reading the stories other women shared allowed me to confront the fact that even if it didn’t, would that really be such a bad thing? Why was so much of my self-esteem tied to my body image? So I decided to live well, eat well, exercise, and enjoy my children. And by about 3 months post-partum, while not quite as taut as before (my “accordion” belly), I was amazed that I could again fit into my skinny jeans. The surprise was how it was a pleasant one, but not one that caused me to redefine my self-esteem…because it was already back.
So, thankfulness. An ode to my breasts.
At 6 months following the birth of my second child, I am still amazed at the ability of my breasts. I am so thankful to have nourished another thriving child, who nurses like champ. When I look down at his robust little thighs, I marvel at how I could sustain a child entirely on my own. It is a mystery to me that my (normally) A-cup breasts could me such great milk producers. Following both pregnancies, they grow to D-cups, and I’ll admit, they are quite lovely. In fact, I regularly admire them in the mirror, telling myself I might as well, since they are temporary gifts. More importantly I love the closeness I feel to my baby while he nurses – how he looks up at me as he drinks and can be instantly soothed – it is a satisfying feeling. It gives me renewed appreciation for mother nature, the perfection of human physiology. And I will not begrudge what happens to my breasts following this second child, because whatever the cosmetic price, they have performed their job admirably, and it will have been more than worth it.
-lksmama
For my American readers, I hope you had a lovely Thanksgiving. For everyone, I hope you took this chance to reflect upon your blessings.
Peace to all.
In the first days at home with Molly after giving birth to her at the local hospital, I was using the boppy nursing pillow. My face, arms, belly, legs, everything was bloated so I still looked pregnant. I was too busy to dwell on it, and I didn’t even take note when the pounds melted away due to breastfeeding and lack of cooking and eating. I was in the glider rocker, a gift from my sister-in-law, and my newborn baby lay on the boppy pillow. She nursed at my breast and I must have dozed off. When I awoke, to my surprise, I found that my newborn baby was no longer on the boppy. She had slipped through the inner edge and landed on my bare belly. My belly flesh was the softest of any body part I’d every felt, and there was my child curled up atop my velvety soft belly. Her hands rested by her face, and she fit perfectly round the outside of the belly that had nourished her inside. I was filled with joy and pleasure at seeing my belly serve her so well even after her birth. It struck me so, I see now, because it is the visual transition from my pregnancy to the parenting of my daughter – straddling both sides of the belly. The best part is perhaps that it happened while I was asleep and so was she. Motherhood was that natural, seamless, warm, and safe in the first few days.