While my experience this time around has been much better in so many ways, my body was changed much more by this pregnancy.
I didn’t get a single stretch mark with Mae. I assumed that would happen again this time, and I was mistaken. So I am having to accept these new marks on my stomach and body.
Since I’m not anxious, I’m actually eating (this is a good thing), but it means the pregnancy weight is flying off me like it did last time.
Breastfeeding is going well. I’m so thankful for this. But I can see how my breasts and nipples will change the longer I nurse.
And I’m tempted to say something how about we “sacrifice our bodies” or all the we give up, but I’m really trying to re-frame my thinking about my body. If I think I sacrificed something, then that means I think my body is less than, not as good, and really I should think my body is AMAZING, and I do on good days.
My body made a big, beautiful baby boy, and then my body has continued to sustain that child with food it is providing. Think about that. My body has created and nourished a human. My breasts have provided approximately 420-500 meals already to just this baby. I’m convinced that if men could breastfeed, they would tally their meals in this way and brag to each other.
But the baby is up, and I must provide another meal, and I am trying to think of my body as a strong vessel, and all that my body can DO. My body is not just to look at; it is mainly to be used, to hug my children, kiss my husband, walk and discover the world.