This Body of Mine

Featured Member Post

I look up at the staircase with a sense of dread. Groan. I have to make it all the way up there? And then I suddenly remember that my body works again. I lift my knees and propel forward with so much more ease than I did just weeks ago. I feel gloriously unencumbered. There is still a novelty in being able to move properly. To bend at the waist is divine. I keep forgetting I can; I keep asking the kids to pick things up off of the floor. Well, they should anyway, those messy little buggers. But I too can collect debris off of the floor.

I’m smaller now than I was when I got pregnant. Which is like the reverse of what happens to most people but apparently this body works in opposites. I put on weight when not pregnant; I lose weight while pregnant. Technically my weight remained constant for 9 months, despite growing an almost 10 pound baby and the assorted accoutrement that comes with a baby (like a placenta and giant water-filled cankles). So once the baby popped out, there went like 30 pounds or so in a nano second. How bizarre.

Callum tells me my tummy is still big. Kid, you have no idea how much smaller it is. I’m not taking it personally.

this bodyI’ve always thought I should be a surrogate. If I just kept getting pregnant, I could practically be skinny. And I could give other people babies, if they need some help getting their own. I don’t want all the babies here. Infants are terrifying (she says, as she cares for one). I think this is definitely enough. More than enough, probably.

I gave all my maternity clothes away this morning, every last piece of them. I feel like some sort of weight left the house with those three large bags of clothes, like something was hanging over me. Goodbye, pregnancy. Godspeed.

My ankles came back about a week after Charlie was born. I’ve never been so happy to see a part of my body again -- probably more than my stomach. I had no problem finding clothes that fit the bump. I had a terrible time finding shoes that fit my swollen feet and ankles. I wore Birkenstocks for almost the entire pregnancy. I think I might burn them. I just need to find a fire to throw them into.

My gall bladder has not acted up again since the night after he was born. I have no reason to assume it will get evil again, but I probably should remember that they told me I need to have it out. The idea of surgery, even day surgery, just terrifies me.

This body has a lap to hold babies and big kids. It feeds a baby, and comforts it. It’s about to do the school run and get frozen in the playground. Today it’s fueled by coffee and muffins brought by a friend and leftover turkey meatball pasta. Keep going, body. Let’s go.

(cross posted from my personal blog

young woman jumping on meadow photo via Shutterstock.


In order to comment on, you'll need to be logged in. You'll be given the option to log in or create an account when you publish your comment. If you do not log in or create an account, your comment will not be displayed.