Previous entry here.
I didn’t intend on updating so soon, but something happened that I wanted to share.
First of all I come here regularly because I feel like I’m a part of something when I read your stories. Some of your stories I relate to more than others, some stories make me want to cry because I either want to reach through the computer and hug you or because I can’t believe how beautiful you are, and if you don’t like your body, what would you think of mine…
It’s been a tough couple of months on a lot of different levels and I feel that although I’m still losing weight and inches, it only makes my skin sag and “hang” more. But I do feel healthier so that’s gotta count for something.
But here’s what I wanted to share with you, to reminds all of us of what really matters.
The other day I was sitting on the floor and playing with my daughter (who will already turn 1 year old very soon and is starting to walk) and I found myself wanting to cry at the sight of the roll of belly fat hanging in front of me. I was pinching the skin and moving it around distractingly. My daughter walked over and kneeled down next to me and put her little hand on my belly and she pat it lovingly. I looked up into those big blue eyes and that big gap toothed grin of hers and I did find myself crying, but not of sadness. I couldn’t believe that almost a year ago, this little girl was resting inside of me, kicking her little heels eager to come out. And now there she was, walking and smiling and caressing my belly from the outside.
That night I opened the baby book that I’d been too busy to pay attention to and found the section titled Your First Home. There I pasted three pictures, one of before I got pregnant, one of my big pregnant belly and the third one of my belly in its current state, and underneath I started writing:
“The first picture is of Your First Home before you moved in. It’s like a brand new house with new furniture that still has the paint and new carpet smell. Sure it looks good but you’re afraid to touch anything for fear of breaking something and it doesn’t feel like you home.
The second picture represents all those years you spent in that house, molding it to your liking making changes, building memories. Sometimes it gets cluttered and messy and crowded and it might have lost that brand new house appeal but it smells homely and it’s comforting.
That last picture is like a beloved house after you’ve decided to move out because it doesn’t suit your needs anymore. You say goodbye to it with a heavy heart but you know that you need to move on. Who knows, it might just suit somebody else one day. Before you leave though, you take a good look at it. A brand new house it isn’t anymore. The paint is chipping, the carpets are dirty. To a casual by-stander it might not look that great, but you know better. That house is beautiful to you because it has been lived in. Laughter has echoed in its wall, maybe some tears have been shed too, but mostly it’s Love that you can feel in its foundation.
My dear daughter, when I look at this belly that was you very first home, I smile. Every line, every wrinkle, every mark is there because you decided to choose me to be your mommy. Maybe one day I will give you a brother or a sister and they too will leave their own personal story on my belly. And I hope that one day, if you so desire, you will be blessed with a baby of your own and that you too will have the privilege of becoming someone’s First Home.”
Your bellies might be scared, deformed and wrinkled but they were your precious children’s first home and that’s something to be thankful for. It doesn’t make everything better I know, but it puts things in perspective.
Thank you for allowing me to share.
Peace to you and yours
~Proudmama
Pictures are 11.5 months postpartum.
Updated here and here.
