Defining Beauty
Summer 2014
Jasper Wade,
The girls are just a few months old. My body is pumping with hormones and milk. I am living in hours and ounces, but aching to make memories with you, too. Someone took this picture of us while we were talking about all the ways you've changed and I've changed. You were asking about my body because you missed my lap while I was pregnant and you had questions about why my breasts are tender and leak sometimes. (Okay, all the time.)
There are lots of things about my old body I miss. I remember fondly the sleek and toned person within this shape, now heavier and softer than before you and your sisters came to be. Some people shed this stuff with ease, but I struggle to return to that magic number…
Blah blah blah. Who the hell cares? I certainly don't most days and that's why I remain fuller. My love handles are so much more beautiful than that complaining. My belly is a pillow for snuggles and safety.
You might never know or care, but I made a promise when you were born.
I will never tell you about the things I wish I could change about my body. I will never vent in front of you and a mirror. I will never say I'm ugly or fat or droopy. Not then. Not now. Not in 40 years when I'm deciding whether to buy a sleeveless dress.
I will never tell you because I want you to know the truth: I am your mother and I am beautiful. I am strong. I move and lift and hike and walk and bike and wrestle with you. I am healthy and lovely and whole. I am the kind of woman you need to know as you grow. I get to help inspire your definition of beauty and that's a privilege I will not waste.
I will keep moving and straining to be alive and whole, but I will never deny you when you offer me a piece of your peanut butter toast. I will never shy away from sharing a watermelon with you or letting you burry your face in my midsection for comfort. God, I love that. I will never tell you things that detract from the wide and physical love I have for creating you because that is worth all the soft parts of me that weren't there before.
Love, Mama