My hair is glossy black, the white, very visible.
My eyebrows, non-existent as usual, needing a little help with brow pencil.
My eyes, tired, the bags underneath, needing their own zip code.
My nose, a little red, from overblowing.
My lips and mouth, a little dry.
My skin, looking a little blotchy.
My neck, an area much neglected.
My shoulders, aching.
My arms, somewhat flabby.
My breasts, not what they used to be.
My waist, not yet back from vacation.
My belly, floppy and resembles a flotation device.
My hips, hello, where did you come from?
My thighs, still too large to fit into my old pants.
My legs, my least favorite part of my body.
Just a word.
It punched me in the gut.
A word uttered to me, perhaps said with good intentions. Perhaps not.
Nevertheless, it punched me in the gut.
I know, only a couple of weeks postpartum, of course I’ll be far from my pre-pregnancy body.
I KNOW this.
Yet, it punched me in the gut.
A change of perspective is required.
My hair is glossy black, still thick from generous pregnancy hormones, not quite shedding yet as before.
My eyebrows, frame my eyes just right.
My eyes, see my boys, and see the love my firstborn has for the baby.
My nose, smells my newborn’s heady baby scent.
My lips and mouth, full of kisses for my children.
My skin, as of now, no pimples (can we say yay), trying not to look its age.
My neck, skin still smooth.
My shoulders, strong, and bearing the weight of motherhood well.
My arms, always full – full of toddler and baby goodness.
My breasts, full, full of nourishment for my baby.
My waist, who cares?
My belly, carrier of two miracles of life.
My hips, just the size they’re supposed to be, bearing the weight of two children when I hold them in my arms.
My thighs, where my baby lies, where my toddler sits.
My legs, carries this body where it needs to go.
This body? Has served me well.
This body? Carried and delivered two beautiful children.
This body? Though not perfect, is mine and is what it’s supposed to be right now.
What do you love about your body?