Postpartum Body poem.

**I did NOT write this poem, I saw it on pintrest and loved it.**

 

 

 

 

Once upon a time,

My skin was smooth.

Unscarred.

It created soft dips down between bones.

My hips were tight and narrow.

My breasts were small and round.

 

But with the energy of new life,

Every cell in my body was changed

And forgot the old ways of being.

Things became displaced…

My skin stretched over growing life.

It tore under the power and energy of my baby.

My hips moved apart to enable birth,

Creating a passage to travel.

My breasts grew, and the skin tore there too.

 

My body was scarred from a knife

That created new a passage across my abdomen 

 for my baby to travel.

 

And now I am a mother.

And I am softer. And I have more give,

In my mind and in my body.

My skin is loose,

As it reaches over my body.

Marks from stretching create

Deep crevices and silvery trails.

Like a road map showing the journey

My baby and I trekked to get to where we are today.

 

My breasts continue the work of my body.

Protecting.

Full of life. Full of love.

Flowing with energy.

Creating a bond impossible to replicate.

 

I have a scar.

A marks from when I birthed; my birthmark.

It was touched by new life.

Within that scar is a memory:

That scar tells of the final moment my baby was inside me,

and the moments my baby existed in two worlds.

 

My hips are wider.

They have held the weight of my child.

They have held my whole world.

I created life.

If I was a scientist, I’d get a nobel prize.

But I am a woman, which is infinitely better.

My prize knowing that I made my little boy.

 

I grew him.

My body grew him.

And for that, my body deserves grace.

Respect. Admiration.

Love.

It created life.

It created pure perfection.

And because of that

My body is perfect.

 

My body deserves to be loved.

My body deserves my love.